#do I know that someone going off to battle is a different situation than someone who's been straight up murdered? yes again

[avvwritesstufff]

𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙄𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙒- For nearly eight months, Nicole and Paige had been secretly entangled in a relationship that felt equal parts thrilling and dangerous. They’d always known each other, but everything shifted during last year’s tournament. Paige, the star basketball player, and Nicole, the cheer captain—it was the kind of romance that belonged in a teen drama, full of stolen glances and whispered promises. Paige was known for being a player, but with Nicole, it was supposed to be different. Paige swore she loved her, that she’d do anything for her. And for a while, Nicole believed it. Even when she caught Paige in compromising situations more than once, she let it slide. Paige always promised it wouldn’t happen again. Nicole wanted to believe her. She needed to believe her.

𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙎- Angst, gaslighter!paige and gullible!oc

𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏- 1.8k+

𝘼/𝙉- this is NOT read over or anything and it’s so bad so i’m sorry i had to curse your tumblr with this☹️

It was a chilly evening in Storrs, the kind of night where the crisp air made everything feel sharper, more alive. Nicole had just gotten back from her late-night class, feeling the fatigue of the day settle in. Usually, evenings like this were reserved for hanging out with Paige, but tonight was different. Paige had canceled last minute for some team bonding activity that her Coach had insisted on. Nicole didn’t take it personally—she’d been through plenty of those herself and understood how it went.

Still, the change in routine left her at a loose end.

As she kicked off her shoes and considered an early night, her phone buzzed. It was her friends, Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn.

“You have to come out with us tonight,” Angie insisted. “We haven’t seen you since school started! You’ve practically gone ghost!”

Nicole hesitated, guilt creeping in. They weren’t wrong. Ever since things with Paige had deepened, she’d pulled back from everyone else without really noticing. “Okay, fine. I’m in,” she finally agreed, knowing they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The best part of going out, Nicole thought as she rummaged through her closet, was always the getting-ready phase. Her dorm buzzed with energy as Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn arrived, makeup bags in hand.

Loud music blasted from the TV as they crowded around the small mirror, trading tips and compliments while brushes and eyeliner flew around. For the first time in what felt like forever, Nicole let herself relax, laughing at their inside jokes and soaking in the warmth of their company.

“Alright, Nikki,” Angie teased, narrowing her eyes as she applied her lipstick. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Nicole froze mid-swipe of mascara. “What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on,” Angie pressed, smirking. “We’re not dumb. You’ve been MIA, and don’t think we haven’t noticed that hickey on your neck.”

Nicole’s hand shot to her neck instinctively. She laughed awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not like that. My classes have just been insane this semester.” She stood up quickly and made her way to the kitchen.

Angie raised a skeptical brow, following her. “Right, because classes leave perfectly placed hickeys on your neck. Sure, Nikki. Tell us another one.”

Nicole sighed, realizing she wouldn’t win this battle. “Fine! Yes, I’ve been seeing someone. But it’s really not a big deal.”

Angie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, spill! What’s his name?”

Nicole hesitated, thinking fast. “Um… Paul. His name’s Paul. He’s sweet. And hot.”

“Paul?” Angie repeated, tilting her head. “Alright, what’s his last name? Let me look him up on Instagram.”

“Oh, he’s not on Insta,” Nicole replied quickly, pouring herself two shots from the freezer. “He’s more of an off-the-grid kind of guy.”

Angie frowned but before she could press further, Nicole checked her phone. “Wow, would you look at that? It’s already 9:30. Time to go!”

The subject was dropped—for now—as they hurried to get their coats and head out.

The four of them piled into Hailee’s boyfriend’s car, who kindly dropped them off at the local bar. As they walked in, Nicole took in the lively atmosphere: the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the low beat of music in the background.

The girls claimed a corner table, but Nicole made a beeline for the bar. She ordered a Dirty Shirley—Paige’s favorite—and as the bartender handed her the drink, it hit her.

She hadn’t talked to Paige all night.

PB💕

3:36 pm

Coach said I can't be

on my phone during this

thing, I'll call you later if

I'm not exhausted

Love you💕

(nikki❤️this message)

hey p,

i haven’t heard from

you and wanted to make

sure everything was going

good, i love u❤️

Nicole set her phone down and glanced up, and there she was—Paige. In the middle of the crowded room. With another girl.

Nicole froze. The world around her seemed to blur, her focus locked on the scene unfolding before her. All she could do was sit there, paralyzed, as disbelief washed over her. Paige wasn’t just with someone else—she had lied. And to Nicole, that was the most jarring part. Paige never lied. At least, that’s what Nicole thought she knew.

Time dragged, stretching what was barely a minute into what felt like hours. Finally, Paige looked her way. Their eyes met. Nicole felt a tear slip down her cheek, unbidden and unwelcome. The moment Paige saw her, Nicole broke the connection, pushing herself up and weaving through the tightly packed bodies in the bar. She needed air.

Outside, the cool night air hit her face as she sank onto the steps, staring blankly ahead. Her tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them away, determined not to let them win.

The door burst open behind her.

“Nik! Nicole—thank God. Please, let me explain!” Paige’s voice was frantic as she scanned for her.

Nicole didn’t turn, didn’t flinch. She just stared ahead, her face expressionless.

Paige moved closer. “Ma, come on—” she reached out, her hand brushing Nicole’s arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Nicole’s voice was flat, cold, devoid of the warmth Paige once knew. She jerked her arm away.

Paige knelt in front of her, her voice softer now, pleading. “Let’s go home, Nik. We can talk about this. You’re the only one I care about, you know that. I don���t even know that girl’s name—she came up to me, I swear.”

Nicole hesitated. Her mind raced, torn between fleeing and confronting the betrayal. She exhaled sharply.

“Fine. But let me say goodbye to my friends first.”

Paige nodded, following closely as Nicole re-entered the bar. Nicole wiped her face quickly, masking her turmoil as she approached her friends.

“Guys, don’t kill me,” she said with a forced laugh. “I’ve got an important assignment due in an hour. I promise I’ll stay longer next time!”

They groaned but hugged her goodbye, none of them catching the storm beneath her calm exterior.

Outside again, the silence between them was heavy. Once in the car, Paige started the engine, glancing nervously at Nicole.

“Nicole, you know you’re the only one I want. I was trying to push her off me, I promise—”

“No.” Nicole’s voice cut her off, sharp and steady. “Stop that. You don’t get to promise or swear on anything anymore. You’re a liar, Paige. And I’m not stupid. This isn’t the first girl, and it won’t be the last.”

Her voice cracked, but she kept her eyes fixed ahead. Paige reached out, but Nicole flinched.

“Baby, come on. You know I’d never—”

“Stop calling me that,” Nicole snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a narcissistic piece of shit, and I never should’ve agreed to this. You can’t commit to anything but basketball.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling over. “Nik, what the fuck. You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

Nicole let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m saying. How many, Paige? How many girls have you cheated on me with? Actually, forget it—I don’t want to know. Let me out.”

“What? Are you serious? The car’s moving, Nicole!” Paige veered onto the shoulder, her voice rising.

“Let me out!” Nicole fumbled with her seatbelt, finally yanking the door open.

“Nicole, stop! You’re drunk!” Paige shouted, pulling the car to a screeching halt as Nicole stumbled onto the pavement.

Ignoring her, Nicole began walking down the dark street.

“Nicole, get back in the car!” Paige called after her, panic lacing her voice. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold!”

“Leave me alone, Paige. My dorm’s two blocks away.” Nicole’s voice was slurred but defiant as she staggered forward.

Paige caught up to her, grabbing her arm just as Nicole tripped. She steadied her, their eyes meeting. For a brief moment, Nicole saw a flicker of the Paige she had fallen for—the girl who had made the last eight months feel like a dream.

Without a word, Nicole turned and walked back to the car. Paige followed, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto her face.

“Just because i’m in the car doesn’t mean we are good paige” nicole states turning toward the door and leaning against it

The ride back was short, but the silence between them was deafening.

When they arrived at the apartment building, Paige helped Nicole out of the car, steadying her as they walked to her dorm. The night air was cold, but the silence between them was colder.

At the door, Paige hesitated, then pushed it open and followed Nicole inside.

“Out,” Nicole said, her voice low and sharp, pointing at the door.

Paige ignored her, forcing a soft smile. “Baby, you’re just drunk. I don’t wanna leave you alone like this.” She closed the door behind her and gently guided Nicole toward her bedroom.

Nicole didn’t argue, too drained to fight. She sat on the edge of her bed, watching Paige through tired, narrowed eyes. Paige set her phone down on the nightstand and knelt in front of her, slipping off Nicole’s shoes with care.

“I got you,” Paige murmured, her voice soft, almost tender. She helped Nicole out of her jacket, then started removing her makeup with a tissue from the bedside table.

Nicole didn’t say a word, just stared at Paige, trying to decide if this was love or manipulation.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” Paige said, standing up. “Try to lie down.”

As Paige left the room, Nicole let out a shaky breath. Her eyes landed on the phone Paige had left on the nightstand. It lit up with a notification.

Snapchat: Nessa🤫🍑📞

Nicole’s stomach churned. She picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked it—no password. The messages stared back at her:

Nessa🤫🍑📞: When are you gonna be here? I neeeed you, Paige.

Nessa🤫🍑📞: Bro, are you seriously ignoring me because of that girl you’re “with”? Like, come on, Paige. You know I’m the one—not her.🙄

Nicole’s blood ran cold. Every doubt, every suspicion she’d tried to push aside slammed into her like a freight train.

Paige walked back in, a glass of water in hand. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Nicole standing there, holding her phone.

Nicole handed it to her without a word. “Get out.”

Paige opened her mouth, but the look in Nicole’s eyes stopped her. It wasn’t anger; it was something colder, something final. Nicole stepped past her and opened the door, standing silently as she waited.

Paige hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She wanted to fight, to explain, but she knew better. She could come back tomorrow. She always did. Say she was sorry, promise Nicole the world, and somehow, break it right back.

Without a word, Paige walked out.

Nicole closed the door, locking it behind her. She leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. The tears came then, silent but relentless, each one carving out a piece of the love she’d held for Paige.

For the first time, she let herself wonder if she could ever put the pieces back together.

[givehimthemedicine]

"I can't lose you" vs. "You're not going"

so many times that Mike expresses love for El or concern for her safety, he frames it on himself, and how losing her would impact him.

it's true that Mike's adolescence shouldn't have to be so heavily shaped by traumatic losses. it's true that El shouldn't be obligated to keep putting her life on the line. these two have this repeatedly clashing survivors-guilt / hero-obligation thing going on that makes this all so complicated. I'm not painting a 13 year old boy as bad for not articulating a complex issue. this isn't an anti-Mike post.

what I'm focused on here isn't Mike's thought process but what El actually hears come out of his mouth, because that's all she has to go on.

and what she keeps hearing from him throughout the show is that his love for her, and wishes for her not to die, tend to sound motivated by fears about the emotional consequences for himself rather than concern for her wellbeing.

2x9. El, about to walk back into the building where she was imprisoned and abused all her life and use her powers to a potentially life threatening intensity with the burden of the literal world on her shoulders, has to spend her parting moment with Mike reassuring him that he won't experience loss.

3x6. El, for the first time in her life finally hears someone say they love her, and in the same breath the frame gets pulled back onto Mike's own fear of loss again, because again it's about her risking her life / using her powers. (not to mention, after it's all over and done without Mike having lost anyone, she tries to follow up on the I love you and he pretends he has no idea what she's even talking about)

4x9. El hears Mike elaborate on the "I can't lose you" concept at length while in doing so literally (ofc unintentionally) causing her to lose Max. his long awaited love declaration speech is focused mostly on himself rather than naming anything he loves about El beyond her abilities. which seems to be the moment it really clicks for El that this ain't it.

now consider El's response to Max's death.

there couldn't have been a more perfect opportunity to give her Mike's usual line, "I can't lose you!" but they didn't draw that parallel.

even in the privacy of the void, El doesn't speak on her own loss. her words are a direct response and reassurance to Max's last ("I don't wanna go, I'm not ready!" -> "You're not going"), even knowing she can't hear her for multiple reasons at this point. she listened to Max. she doesn't make it about herself. her concern is framed solely on Max.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, pillory, elf-reader, orc assailants, war between orcs and elves, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, poor confinement conditions, starvation, piss drinking, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome

♡ FEM reader

The orc camp smells of blood and sweat and other obscenities you and your snooty elven nose fear naming. 

They’ve stripped you and your fellow troops of all weaponry and armor—ugly bastards even took your boots! Leaving you in only silken undergarments, standing barefoot in the cold, wet mud. 

It’s to make it harder to run away if you were to escape, you suspect. You can’t decide if it’s a clever tactic or simply a cruel one. Either way, it’s the least of your worries... You haven't been fed or given water since yesterday when you were all captured—paired with having been made to march for half the day barefoot, all tied up by your wrists, one behind the other, toed along like animals with mean tugs that had more than one of you falling face first in the mud—who knows how many of you will be able to continue walking when they decide it’s time to start moving again—much less run away if and when the opportunity presents itself—leaving you hopeless if someone doesn’t do something soon.

And it turns out that someone is you.

“Hey!” you yell. Bruised hands gripping the splintered wooden bars of your crudely built prison, glaring at the two brutes standing watch.

They acknowledge your shout, but neither of them gives any reason for you to believe they understood you were talking to them. Looking at you, then at each other.

“Yes, you two, guards!” you make clear.

They continue to look at you, yet don’t make a move.

You sigh exasperatingly—yet with how tired you are, it’s more a full-chested groan unbecoming of a fine elven knight, but under the circumstances, you couldn’t much care. 

“I know ungodly monstrosities such as yourselves don’t require much to sustain your foul existence, but elves need food—at the very least water!” 

A fellow elf grabs your shoulder gently, saying something under his breath, perhaps in an effort to make you quiet, but you nudge it off and continue your rant in spite of it. 

“If you plan to keep us alive—as I would think, given your decision to cage us—I would advise you to meet us with the bare necessities!”

Both guards look away toward another orc—one sitting on a thick log at the mouth of one of the nicer, warmer-looking tents they’d pitched—perhaps the biggest one—sharpening his blade with a rock.

He doesn’t look up from his handiwork but speaks, “The elf is hungry?”

You scowl at the question. “Yes, you oaf—the elf is, in fact, hungry.”

He lifts his blade and looks it over—one side, then the other—before sinking it deep down into the mud. Tossing the rock away, he stands and whistles sharply, prompting the two guards to wander off as if to get something. Meanwhile, what seems to be the commander starts walking towards the prison.

Regret starts to fester as he approaches, and you’re reminded once again why the inferior race best you in battle time and time again despite your obvious intellectual difference. Three cabbage heads taller than you, his weight must be about four or five, maybe even six, times yours—built like a grizzly bear—plus his armor, which easily adds another.

He unlocks the prison, and you step back on instinct.

“Come. You will be fed,” he says, opening the gate wide.

You look behind you—all the other elves have scurried back into the far end of the cage, leaving you alone in your endeavor, which only feels foolish now that you’re sure he’s going to use those blood-dirty hands of his to squish your head clean off your shoulders as soon as you step out.

Even still, maybe by the adrenaline of imminent death or the lightheadedness of starvation, you dare ask, though a little cautiously now, “What’s on the menu?”

The orc snorts—perhaps at your pickiness—finding your resolve to uphold your standards funny, given you weren't in much of a situation to make demands. You could scoff, too—of course, you can't expect an orc to understand anything about standards.

He smirks, answering, “Something to keep warm."

Or perhaps he was laughing for an entirely different matter...

The guards return carrying something. You spot them behind him, trudging loudly in the slop before halting—mounting something close to the firepit.

By the time you understand what it is, it’s already too late. Your hair’s grabbed—as well as your entire skull—taken in one meaty hand, pulled out of the safety of the cage, and shoved harshly down into the wet dirt.

He locks up the gate again as you lie there. And you take your chance to try and run, crawling forward—fighting through the clay, dragging you down. Scrambling for balance, you’ve barely even made it up on your feet once he grabs you again—this time leading you towards the other two standing in wait along the torture device they’ve set up just for you.

You’re lifted to stand atop a crate, making you the right height, then bent over—with your wrist led into each their position as well as your throat, shoved down as the lunette comes down and successfully locks you in place—perfectly trapped in the pillory with no means of escape.

You pull and struggle, toiling against the wooden plates—too late for any such silly thing as regret you can only whimper in short, panicked screams and cries—but it’s no use. The hand comes back and grabs your hair, yanking it tightly, making your neck crane as he forces you to look up despite the fixed position.

He smiles down at the look on your face—watching your tears make clear streaks through the mud, lips wobbly as you begin to beg, “Please—I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Oh, don’t worry, little elf,” he cuts you off with a coo, grabbing your jaw in his other hand. “You’ll be fed, just like promised.”

Something behind you rips your silk cloth away, baring you. You stiffen all over, breath hitching as useless fists whiten in their restraints. You want to kick, to thrash—but poor balance only results in you choking yourself—and so you’re left to stand there, helpless—bowed and nude before three orcs you’ve angered with your reckless entitlement.

“Mh, pretty elf holes…” one of the guards behind murmurs, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them to take a look, filtering grubby fingers through the crack and lips, rubbing over both holes.

You shake, trying to thwart their efforts. But a gritty pad roughs over your clit and finds purchase below it.

“Stop, stop! Don’t!” you wail, but it pries you apart anyway—wriggling inside your cunt in a brutish shove, it sheathes itself deeply in curiosity to see how much you could fit, eagerly pumping it inside knuckle-deep before pulling back out—then repeating the motion—promptly finger-fucking the tight opening with a digit the size of an average elf’s manhood.

You sob, heaving for breath. Shaking your head in shame as you start to slicken—if just to make it a little more bearable, but the wet noise of it only serves to make you wish they’d killed you instead.

“Shh, elf. Don't cry.” The commander orc in front of you keeps his hold on your hair, talking down to you as he admires your despair. “We’ll give you what you beg for…” He strokes your cheek harshly with the other hand, smearing your tears before moving on to his armored belt. 

You whimper as it drops, revealing what must be your newest and truest worst nightmare. 

“A warm meal in all your hungry holes.”

The two guards take turns behind you. You can’t see them, but they’ve made themselves more than known—having stretched out both your openings to accommodate their overgrown size. 

They seem to like it when you cum—keeping their fat fingers on your clit and always fondling your tits, rubbing your nipples as they fuck your womb deeply until you wet them with your fluids. Your knees gave in a little while ago—their groping now the only thing keeping you upright, and the steady pounding the only thing keeping you awake.

Meanwhile, the commander has his fun with your face. Making you cuddle his heavy ballsack, dousing your face in the rank. With a dagger threatening your pretty eye, he'd coaxed your tongue out to play sooner than you’re proud of—now pliantly hanging from your mouth, licking every foul-tasting patch of his toad-like skin—feeling worse than a beggar eating scraps.

But you ought to thank him. Earlier, he’d tried forcing his length down your throat—making your jaw all but unlock to make room. His cockhead is the size of your fist—in the end, you could only suck on it, only able to satisfy him and his harsh scalp-ripping grip on your hair by prodding his dickhole with your tongue. He started petting you when you did that, making you feel all the more defeated.

His mercy tastes worse than the rancid white you’d been made to swallow. You’d wanted to bite, but the dagger he’d earlier stabbed into the wooden plate for safe-keeping keeps you sweet as you lick and suck the prominent veins running up his fat size—face glazed in sweat and spit, both his and yours.

“Poor elf-bitch…” he jeers while twirling a lock of your fine hair around his crooked finger. “Fed twig all your pretty life—of course, you’re hungry.”

He chuckles, voice hoarse and muted—almost soft, were it not for its gritty timbre. Keeping his cock resting heavy against your face, covering your eye while rubbing the base against your pouty lips.

“A mouthy whore like you needs real cock. Only happy when you’re pounded like meat.” He hums, “In your natural state, pleasing those bigger and stronger than you as a good pet should.”

He laughs louder, rumbles with it enough to shake the ground, then breaks away from you.

“Leave her cunt to me,” he says, folding his arms upon his chest, leaving his heavy cock to swing between muscle-ripped thighs as he leers at the scene. “Prissy elf pussy’s mine to breed.”

One of the guards soon takes up the vacant spot in front of you, putting his leaky tip to your lips in a sloppy kiss before pressing through to fight your throat for space—putting you in an air-tight spitroast—with your ass already being forced to play host for the other intruder, getting your drenched and swollen pussy slapped by a pair of weighty balls on each of his breath-robbing thrusts into your guts.

“A'right, boys,” the commander announces, “Let's stuff her ‘til she’s big and round. 'See if she's still hungry then.”

They both groan and dig in as far as your body allows, bordering on its limits, making you stretch to take them deeper before planting their seed—coming in fast ropes at first, then thicker waves, and finally smaller spurts aided by the shunting of their hips as they rut against you—feeding it to you without rush, one dose after the other, until their balls were all good and empty.

Then they sigh, breathing heavily, waiting for their seed to be settled and swallowed in your bowels before slowly sliding their spent cocks out—letting the overdose spill from your holes as you take a weakened breath and quake in the aftershocks, left hanging in the stand with a body full of orc cum and something else, something that's made your mind feel all funny and flirty. 

Then, stomach heavy and warm, hanging with more weight than your breasts—tender and oddly tingly all over—you croon, like a cow, when the commander lifts your hips and eases inside your cunt only a short moment after—starting to pound you softly but deep enough to make your head hang and tongue drip with drool, moaning like an animal in its heat, all silly, like a mating-call, waiting for your womb to be fed with the same warmth.

He cups your buttcheeks with both his thumbs hooked within your ass, and still, he feels you tremble and cum without your clitty being touched—milking him for his spend, begging him with your tongue out in sweet mews. "Bleath, bleath, mathder~"

And although he can't see it from his position, it still makes him smile. “That’s right, dumb little elf-pet. Beg, and you will be fed.”

You clench up and throttle when he finally blows, and the warmth swarms your gushy insides in heavenly goo—leaving you feeling cozy from the inside out—cross-eyed and panting in utter ecstasy.

He also waits—waits until his cum takes root and his cock unswells for a good minute or two before pulling out with a throaty sigh. Then he rounds the pillory, a heavy step at a time, until his lousy and still steaming cock is met face to face with your sweaty flush-cheeked expression.

“Still hungry, elf-girl?” he asks, jostling the sloppy member against your equally drowsy face. “Or was it thirsty?”

He picks your chin up with a hand, holding it steady while watching your half-mast and glazed heart-eyes lazily blink up at him—grinning and humming at the sight.

���Tell me, elf-pet, which of it was it you were whining about?”

Drool spills from your mouth as you answer, speech slurred like a drunken degenerate, “Both~”

He clicks his tongue, “Spoiled.” But he doesn’t seem angry—no, rather pleased. “You’ve been well-fed for now—time to wash it down.”

He lifts his heavy slug and puts the numb tip to your lips, which eagerly parts wide for him to press inside softly, filling the drizzly cavern, cockhead resting neatly on the wet bed of your tongue. 

You obediently await it with your eyes locked onto his—both moaning once it comes. Hot and salty-sweet, it pours onto your tongue and sloshes down your throat, spilling from your mouth and somehow splashing all over your face—making you shudder in warm bliss as you gulp it down as if it’s in another class from the aged wine back home.

“Drink, elf-slave. Drink and be grateful,” he instructs, and you obey, allowing the piss-stream to hit the back of your throat where you could glug it all down with minimal spill.

When it stopped, you sucked his tip and tongued the slit like before, cleaning it dry of the last drop, saying, “Thank you—thank you, master.”

Elves never cease to surprise him. Always so prissy—high and mighty creatures—and yet they fall the farthest from grace when pushed. 

He had many different ideas on how to make an example of you to the others—cease any ideas they might have of uproar and rebellion. Leave you here for the ogres and trolls to come and have their sloppy seconds. Tie you up by your ankles and drag you behind the horses through all the muck. Let the rest of his troops have at you until you met with your unfortunate end.

But no. He thinks not.

“Let’s move—” he announces to the camp. “Time to take our bounty home.”

After all, for all your whining, you did have a point earlier—you elves are only good to them alive and well. Best get you to the nearest market and sell you.

The guards unfix you from the pillory and start hauling your collapsed form back to the cage.

“No, not her,” he corrects them, thinking of your pretty eyes and soft tongue and that pretty elf cunt that milked him dry like none other. “She rides with me.”

On bearback, he ties your hands around his neck and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, riding backward with your legs draped over his—still naked with your cum-belly leaking out over his saddle—making a mess he’ll have you lick clean later.

“Tell me if you get hungry again, little elf,” he sneers, though a little fondly. “I’ll feed you again.”

And you, despite groggy, with eyes closed, mumble back dumbly, “Thank you, master.”

♡ PART TWO

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hey there! I love the grumpy x sunshine trope for Logan. What if someone has been bothering reader or something happened, and because of it, she’s just not acting like herself and Logan starts picking up on it. He tries to let it go, but it sort of just gets worse and worse, and he becomes really worried for her. So he finally confronts her about, and she has a total breakdown about it- he knows that she’s been upset but not to this extent. So her comforts her and she finally opens up about what’s been going on. That’s kind of all I have, so I’ll leave the rest up to you. I love how you write for Logan, thank you for all the time and dedication you put in. 🫶🏻

When the Sunshine Fades

The Xavier Institute had been bustling with the usual mix of chaos and camaraderie. Students running through the halls, the occasional burst of mutant powers misfiring, and, of course, the ever-present banter between teammates. But through it all, one constant had always been your presence—your sunny disposition that seemed to brighten even the darkest corners of the mansion.

You were the kind of person who could find the silver lining in any situation, always quick with a smile or a word of encouragement. It was one of the things Logan admired most about you. The way you could light up a room with your laughter, the way you saw the good in everyone, even in him—a man who had spent so much of his life battling his inner demons.

But lately, something had changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, and Logan couldn’t help but notice.

At first, he’d told himself to let it go. Everyone had their off days. Maybe you were just tired, or maybe something minor was weighing on your mind. He wasn’t one to pry, especially since you’d always been so good at bouncing back. But as the days turned into a week, and your usual cheerfulness continued to fade, Logan found himself growing more and more concerned.

You’d stopped laughing as much, your smiles were forced, and there was a heaviness in your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You weren’t spending as much time with the team, opting instead to retreat to your room or find some quiet corner of the mansion where you could be alone. You still tried to keep up appearances, but it was clear that something was wrong.

Logan wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the other X-Men had asked him if you were okay, assuming that he would know since the two of you were so close. But Logan didn’t have an answer for them. He didn’t have an answer for himself, either, and that gnawed at him more than he’d like to admit.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of watching you withdraw more and more, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He’d always been protective of you, but this went beyond that. He was worried—genuinely worried—and he couldn’t stand by and watch you suffer in silence any longer.

It was late in the evening when he found you in the mansion’s library, curled up on a chair with a book you hadn’t even bothered to open. Your eyes were distant, and you looked so small, so fragile, that it tugged at something deep inside him. Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself as he approached you.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could manage.

You looked up, startled by his sudden presence, and tried to muster a smile. But it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hey, Logan.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, his eyes never leaving your face. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Your smile faltered, and you looked away, focusing on the pattern of the carpet beneath your feet. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, darlin’,” Logan said, his tone a bit firmer now. “You’ve been actin’ different. Withdrawn. And I know somethin’ ain’t right. You’ve barely been yourself for weeks now.”

You swallowed hard, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine, Logan. Really. Just... been a little tired, I guess.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. He hated that you were trying to brush this off, trying to pretend like everything was okay when it so clearly wasn’t. “You ain’t fine. I know you too well for that. Talk to me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. Logan felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t meant to push you this hard, but he couldn’t back off now, not when you were clearly on the verge of breaking.

“Please, sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening again. “Just talk to me.”

That did it. The dam you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally broke, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You covered your face with your hands as the tears began to fall, your shoulders shaking with the force of your emotions.

Logan was out of his chair in an instant, crossing the small space between you in two strides. He knelt down in front of you, his large hands gently pulling yours away from your face. The sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips made his chest tighten with a mixture of anger and helplessness.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just let it out.”

You shook your head, trying to get a grip on yourself, but the floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now. “I-I’m sorry,” you managed to choke out between sobs. “I didn’t want to bother you with this... I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “A burden? Darlin’, you could never be a burden. Not to me.”

You took a shaky breath, your hands clinging to his arms as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “It’s just... everything’s been so overwhelming. There’s been someone... someone who’s been bothering me, saying things that just… they won’t leave me alone, and I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s been getting to me. And I don’t know how to handle it anymore, Logan. I’m just so tired.”

Logan’s eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Who’s been botherin’ you?”

You shook your head again, fresh tears spilling over. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to drag you into it, but I can’t... I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not. I just feel so lost, Logan.”

Logan’s heart ached at the sight of you, so vulnerable and broken. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a protective embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed your face against his chest. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so damn sorry.”

You clung to him, the sobs wracking your body as you let everything out—the fear, the frustration, the exhaustion. And Logan held you through it all, his arms a fortress around you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm.

“I shoulda noticed sooner,” he murmured into your hair. “Shoulda done somethin’ before it got this bad. But I’m here now, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded weakly, your tears beginning to slow as the weight of his words settled over you. You’d been carrying so much on your own, trying to keep up the appearance of being okay, but now, in Logan’s arms, you finally felt like you could let go.

“I’m scared, Logan,” you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.

Logan tightened his grip on you, his voice low and fierce. “I know, sweetheart. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. I’ll take care of it. Whoever’s been messin’ with you, they’re gonna regret it.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” Logan replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “No one messes with you and gets away with it. Not while I’m around.”

You managed a small, tearful smile at that, the first real smile Logan had seen from you in what felt like forever. “Thank you.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t ever have to thank me for lookin’ out for you. You’re too important to me, darlin’. I don’t want you to ever feel like you gotta deal with this crap on your own.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin, chasing away the lingering cold that had settled in your bones over the past weeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Logan.”

“Lucky for you, you don’t gotta find out,” he said, a hint of his usual gruff humor returning to his voice. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the last of your tears drying on your cheeks. “I’m glad.”

Logan gave you a small, reassuring smile before pulling you back into his arms, holding you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the strong, sure beat of his heart a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in far too long.

For a while, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other as the world outside faded away. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone. You had Logan by your side, and that was enough.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Logan pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way.

“Come on,” he said softly, standing up and offering you his hand. “Let’s get you to bed. You need rest, and I’m not leavin’ you alone tonight.”

[cupcakelvr]

𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

(Both NSFW and SFW)

Minors n men dni!!

SFW ~

Always up for a challenge. Whether it's a tough mission or a game of cards, Sevika thrives on challenges. She enjoys any situation where she can test her skills and intelligence, and she respects those who can hold their own against her in battle or conversation.

༞

She’s loyal af. Her loyalty to Silco shows how deep her devotion can run. If you're someone she deems worthy of that loyalty, you become a part of her inner circle, which is a rare privilege. Betraying her trust, though, is unforgivable in her eyes.

༞

Our bbg is a night-owl. Sevika thrives at night. Whether it’s late-night patrols or enjoying a drink in a dimly lit bar, she’s in her element when the sun goes down. The night brings a certain calmness that lets her guard down, and those rare, quiet moments are where she’s most reflective.

༞

Despite her rough exterior, Sevika follows a strict personal code. She believes in discipline and self-control, which is why she takes her training and physical condition seriously. Even when she’s off-duty, she’s never entirely relaxed, always keeping her edge. (She just needs some head.)

༞

If she cares about you, she shows it in subtle ways. She might give you a hard time or tease you, but she’s always watching out for your well-being. Acts of care, like bringing you something to eat or patching you up after a fight, are her way of showing affection. (She will 100% scold you.)

NSFW ~

Here we go with the horny shit..

OUR FAV DOMINANT QUEEN. Sevika has a naturally dominant presence in the bedroom. She’s assertive, in control, and knows what she wants. She’s not afraid to take charge, and she enjoys when you let her lead.

༞

LOVES HAVING CONTROL. She loves keeping you on edge, alternating between letting you beg for more and giving you exactly what you want when you least expect it. She gets off on seeing how much she affects you. (Dominate me please)

༞

Aftercare’s different with her each time but one thing she’ll always do is light a cig and share it with you. After that she’ll take really good care of you, she will bring you snacks and water.

༞

While she's dominant, Sevika isn't always loud during intimate moments. She lets her actions speak louder than words, using her body and presence to control the mood. It's the smoldering intensity in her gaze, the way her hands grip you just right, that makes the experience unforgettable

༞

Sevika keeps you on your toes by constantly switching things up. She might start slow and methodical, only to suddenly change to something more aggressive. The unpredictability adds to the thrill, making each experience with her feel fresh and exciting.

I HOPE YALL LIKE IT LMK IF I MADE SOME MISTAKES.

ꨄ

[terry-perry]

okay I need some more alastor x Carmella’s daughter!

can we have an imagine this time of that situation?

A Business Proposal

“First the Princess of Hell, and now you've gone for one of Carmine's brats? You really have no shame, do you Alastor?"

Right on cue, Vox was ready to confront Alastor after the last Overlord gathering, not caring that everyone was still around to watch. It was just like the Vees to want an audience. Had it been anyone else, Alastor would've torn the obnoxious picture box to shreds and have his torment recorded for his next show. Vox wasn't worth the effort, however. In fact, Alastor knew of a better way to destroy him.

"My friend, there's no need for such jealousy," he started with the nonchalant tone he knew drove Vox crazy. "It's not my fault my natural charisma led to such powerful allies while all you can conjure up are underlings who do nothing more than feed your fragile ego."

That certainly struck a nerve since Vox began to grind his teeth as his stare grew more intense. Alastor simply stayed calm as he subtly carried a tone of smugness. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have lunch with my lady love, whom you will not disrespect again," This was the only time he chose to strike actual fear in Vox's heart as he switched to his Radio Demon persona by darkening his eyes and letting his figure grow into a form that better radiated evil. "Not unless you wish to be a new voice for my broadcast..."

Vox could only stare in bewildered silence as Alastor threatened him. The jab was bad enough, but the last statement stunned him enough to merely nod.

"Darling?" A third voice that differed with its femininity and lack of intensity came through. "Ready to go?" Y/N asked her boyfriend, bearing no mind that he was in almost full demon mode.

Alastor snapped his head around in her direction, calming down instantly. He supposed he made his point, and he was rather famished.

"Ready as always, my dear!" He replied, offering his arm to her which she happily accepted. "I know a lovely little bistro that serves excellent venison."

They walked past the still-emasculated Vox who was doing his best to refrain from buffering.

"Always fun catching up with you, old friend!"

----

Alastor would be lying if he said he wasn't caught off guard by Carmilla's sudden invitation to her home. She may have been Y/N's mother, but he rarely interacted with her sans a few polite greetings whenever they saw one another. According to Y/N, she did approve of him, it was just hard to gather since for every jovial "Hello!" he'd give her, she'd return with a small nod and acknowledging hum. It could be rather off-putting for someone like Alastor who thrived on other's reactions to all he did.

Some feared him, which always brought a certain giddiness within him that bordered on titillating. Some believed they could outmatch him in the battle of wits, which he was always ready for with a good put-down.

Months ago there was that precious giggle his dearest Y/N let out to alert him that she carried a torch for him. He knew right away that was something he could use to his advantage. Working with the heir to Hell's throne was already advantageous, but being involved with one of the daughters of an Overlord with the largest assembly of weapons in the city was something that could make his position all the more concrete. Pestering gnats like the Vees, even with their childish disrespect, knew opportunities like this don't just come every day. It was most likely why Vox tried to provoke him like he did.

So this was why Alastor had to be sure he had Carmilla's approval since it would cement him further in his current position. For someone who believed a smile could go a long way in keeping many guessing, he was certainly thrown off his game by her lack of expression. He could only hope this invite to whatever this was could keep things favorable for him.

Alastor was welcomed in by no one as the door opened on its own like always. He stepped into a large sitting room which contrasted with the one at the hotel as the latter was bright and rather tacky. The Carmine household was more gloomy, yet rather welcoming. He thought it was because the room he was directed to had walls completely covered in books. No doubt his bookish Y/N inhabited this room often, having the habit of sticking her nose in one. Currently, however, sat her mother in an armchair, staring passively at him like always.

"Alastor," Carmilla greeted him, waving him forward. "Glad you came. Please sit."

She gestured him to a sofa next to her seat that he accepted, along with the glass of bloodred wine she offered. Sadly it was just that - wine. It will have to do.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here so unexpectedly, without Y/N," she began, all business and direct, as always.

"If this is about my altercation with Vox this morning, I apologize," he said. He wasn't really sorry for putting the noisy picture box in his place, but whatever kept him in Carmilla's good graces. "As you know, he's an old acquaintance of mine. Things between us can get rather-"

She held up her hand to stop him before taking a sip of her wine. "That's not why I called you here. I've learned not to pay the Vees any mind long ago. No, I wish to speak to you about your relationship with Y/N."

At this, he kept his smile intact as always, but it held a certain wariness, a curiosity. He hoped she couldn't tell how he was preparing himself for whatever she could mean. She sat further back in her seat, studying him it seemed. When he chose to stay quiet, she continued. "I understand you're a busy person, as am I, so I'll do us both a favor and jump right to what I wish to discuss," without hesitation, she did just that. "I want you to marry Y/N."

Alastor could barely cover how he winced at that - the static emanating from him didn't help. Even with all the theories he conjured for this meeting, he didn't imagine this.

Carmilla must've noticed how she caught him by surprise since this was the first time he saw her look amused at the situation. She seemed to want to play with him since she took her time with her next sip before deciding to reassure him. "This doesn't need to happen any time soon," she said. "I don't expect you to get engaged tomorrow. I only want to give you my blessing if that's where you two end up. I find it beneficial for you to know beforehand because you're a businessman before anything else. You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Well, there was no use denying it, so Alastor shrugged. The wariness, however, remained. "Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come with a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

Carmilla once more studied him stoically, which had Alastor's wide grin falter. "If I were in you, I'd do the same, I suppose. Which is why I know you'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her. If not, you'll go about your business like nothing. You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction. If any issues, deal with me. Are we clear?"

Oh, she was making this too easy. Alastor almost wanted to let out a cackle of triumphant laughter. Had she stuck out her hand to shake he would have. For now, he'd settle for the clinking of glasses that signified a toast.

One marriage, coming up!

[retroaria]

Hey hey I hope u doin well :) I would like to request a wind breaker headcannon when their girl is really sassy/badmouth like swaering and gets herself into trouble. Maybe for Suo , Kaji, Sakura, Toma and Umemiya :).

a/n: i’m notoriously not good at writing for hiragi so i apologize for excluding him :( thank you so much for the request and i appreciate your patience!! <3

• | WIND BREAKER M.LIST | •

Suō finds your behavior rather entertaining, so much so that he lets it go on longer than it should some times. Not that he finds it humorous or anything - he finds it really attractive actually.

he loves watching you handle your own and be fierce about it, sometimes leans over and makes a cat growling noise in your ear (such a cheeky loser lol)

defends you with the biggest smile on his face, “sorry, she’s a hot head.” - he’s not sorry at all and he’s about to go give you a fist bump for telling the person off.

if ever he finds you biting off more than you can chew, he steps in and handles the rest for you. you guys are kind of evil, an evil team if you will. (it’s pretty romantic!)

kaji’s favorite little moment of life with you is when he gets to say “i told you so.” not only does it grant him exclusive access to the adorable pouty face you make while he teases you, it also makes him feel less guilty for not actually stopping you from running your mouth and getting into trouble.

“i told you not to do that.” sure he did! once or twice…maybe…under his breath as to not distract you from unleashing your rath. seriously though, for as much distaste as he shows in your rowdiness, he can’t hide the little smirk that gives him away while he sits back and watches you go off. he isn’t sure if he should be amused, proud, or concerned, but somehow he’s all of the above.

kaji’s biggest fear would be you causing some sort of drama in the community, and the rest of the guys have to start keeping tabs on you. so he keeps tabs on you himself and lends a hand when he sees necessary. he’s also sure to cover your tracks and would defend you with his life (unless he gets bored and realizes it’s pointless but in that case he knows you can figure it out on your own) partners in crime!

umemiya pretends to have zero recollection when a story of your aggressive misadventures is mentioned to him. “whaaaaat she didn’t do that, pffft- and if she did i’m sure she had a reason…yeah…” he must’ve been out of town that weekend. he loves you with all your fiery rage of course, but some of the stuff you’ve done really makes his head spin (in a simultaneously loving and nauseating way)

he gives you the same pep talks he gives the other guys in bofurin and encourages you to fight every battle with a purpose. once you get the hang of that he’s sure to let you know that “because i wanted to” and “because i can” are not good enough reasons to curse someone out and threaten to have your boyfriend come and beat them up. (he knew what he was signing up for)

despite the different ground you both stand on in certain situations, he loves that you’re strong and independent and sees those qualities as being forever beneficial, so he wouldn’t change you for the world. maybe just change your approach! i’m sure that would spare him a few drops of sweat and flustered apologies on your behalf.

sakura is truly not fond of how many uncomfortable (and slightly dangerous?) situations you’ve roped him into. hes got hands for days, but he can’t really formulate full sentences sometimes, so he tends to take the back seat and silently beg you to stop and leave them alone and just go home or else they’re gonna get even more angry and- oh but if that actually happens suddenly he’s pumped and ready to hand out mean left hooks like it’s nothing.

he can’t quite wrap his head around how quickly and fearlessly you engage in aggressive verbal confrontation without just rolling your sleeves up before even opening your mouth. he finds it just as admirable as it is scary.

unlike umemiya, knowing you threatened some asshole trying to mess with you that HE was gonna come and mess them up gives him instant gratification. he’s on the way! actually he was probably already there with you and as soon as you stopped yelling and he could take his hands off his ears he’s ready to defend your honor. he’s the robin to your batman sometimes, but just let him believe he’s batman, for his sake and yours.

wooo another wind breaker post for the books!!! i’m sorry i’m a sleeper agent when it comes to writing anything besides blue lock but have faith in me guys -aria

[caelivir]

rayne ames relationship hcs (part ii)

— WARNING: creepy behavior from a guy but that’s it

— author’s note. i feel like the author’s note from when i posted this doesn’t apply anymore, but anyway, this is part two but isn’t actually because i lost the first part when i accidentally deleted my account… again im so sorry. ALSO!! the writing is a little different bc i’m cringing rereading my old stuff. (how did u guys let that slide)

— HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU TO @mikadzukis FOR SAVING MY OLD HCS I AM INDEBTED TO U!!!!

rayne ames loves dates with you. he loves them.

but he especially loves picnic dates

you introduced him to the idea on one of his days off

you promised it wasn’t going to be draining because you knew being a visionary is a taxing job

so he agreed

and he loved it

spread across the red and white checkered picnic blanket are plates of grapes, cheese, and sandwiches. two goblets of iced tea rest on top of a wooden board so they can remain balanced.

rayne’s large hands support his weight as he leans back onto the blanket. the half-blonde cranes his neck to stare up at the leaves. rays of sunlight peek through slivers of space between them. a butterfly flutters its wings above him.

“rayne!” you call for his attention.

your lover hums as a reply before directing his eyes toward you, offering his full attention.

“i made something for you.” you speak, grabbing for another basket on the blanket. you lift up the cover, reaching carefully inside it. you pull out a cake platter and set aside the lid that protected the dessert residing on it.

“it’s a cake!” you continue with a smile. “this is the first time you’ve been off in a while so i thought i could make a cake to celebrate! i even decorated it with some bunnies!”

a small grin grows on the visionary’s face. he pushes himself up. rayne takes the platter out of your hand and gently places it on a free board on the blanket. you’re caught in surprise as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. his head finds warmth in the crook of your neck.

“thank you.” he whispers.

rayne’s protective of you

he knows you’re capable of fighting your own battles, but there are certain situations where he just had to take care of it

if someone’s saying things about you or harassing you, he isn’t going to tolerate that

the entirety of easton knows not to mess with you, because messing with you means messing with rayne, and no one wants to put themselves through that

he’s already scary enough as is so all it takes is a couple of threats for the person to leave cowering in fear

you wait outside of the café as rayne uses the restroom. people of all ages each other as they navigate their ways theough marchétte street. one of them approaches you, but it’s not rayne.

“so what’s a fine thing like you doing alone here in the street.” a guy smirks, trailing his eyes up and down your body. you shift uncomfortably. he’s definitely a few years older than you and inches taller than rayne. a single line cuts through his right cheek, indicating his level of magic.

you swallow down an anxious gulp before speaking. “i’m with my boyfriend.”

“tell me gorgeous,” the man’s hand travels down the path of your jaw. you’re disgusted by his touch. “does your boyfriend like to share?”

“i really think you should go.” you respond firmly, shoving the grimy hand away from your face.

the guy chuckles, raising his hands in defense. “no need to get aggressive, sweetheart! i just want to know!”

“and who the hell are you?” a familiar deep voice says from behind you. you turn around to discover rayne, and your eyes light up at his appearance. you’re well acquainted with the detachment and chilling coldness of rayne’s gaze, but now, there’s a fire behind them.

rage.

he’s pissed.

recognition becomes evident in the man’s face, and it dawns on him that he just messed with a divine visionary’s lover, but before he can retreat, rayne steps in front of you. he yanks your harasser down to your level. you don’t know what the half-blonde says, but it’s clear that it sparks fear into the features of the other man. once rayne’s finishes with him, he apologizes profusely before running away in the opposite direction.

the anger behind rayne’s eyes fade; they soften when he finds your gaze. “are you okay.”

you grin. “yeah, now that you’re here.”

rayne lets you wear his robes

whenever you hang out in his dorm, your first instinct is to go through his closet and take them

when you first did it, he was going to protest

but you looked so cute i. them that he decided to let it slide

you especially like wearing them when you nap

though you wearing his robes does pose some problems for him from time to time

“you’re late,” orter points out from his seat at the table. his fingers slide the frame of his glasses up his nose. “and where’s your visionary robe?”

rayne strolls past the desert came, not bothering to answer for his actions. he didn’t want to admit—especially to orter of all people—the reason behind his missing robe.

this morning, just as he was almost ready to leave for the divine visionary meeting, rayne realized that he was missing his robe. the half-blonde searched ever crevice of his dorm but to no avail. rayne sighed, reaching the conclusion that you accidentally took it.

yesterday, he had to run a quick errand while you were napping. upon his return, rayne discovered that you had left. you scribbled a message on a notepad, explaining that you didn’t want to keep intruding. you were probably too tired to realize that you had his war robe in your possession.

rayne could waste any more time making a trip to your dorm. it was a bit of a distance from his. the best decision at the moment was to let you have it and attend the meeting without it.

that is how he ended up in this situation, late and stuck sitting next to ryoh.

“y/n has your robe, don’t they?” ryoh teases in a whisper. for some reason, ryoh had discovered rayne’s relationship with you. whenever the two visionaries crossed paths, his senior never fails to mention you.

the sword cane doesn’t respond. “that’s a yes, isn’t it?” ryoh continues with a shit-eating grin. he pokes the arm of the boy next to him

rayne inhales. gods, he was not going to hear the end of this.

whenever you and rayne are apart due to his job as divine visionary, you communicate through letters sent by owls

he talks about the places he’s at and shit talks the people he doesn’t like

you tell him about you classes and how things are back at the academy, especially things going on within the adler dorm

and you occasionally give him updates on finn because you know deep down rayne cares about him

an owl lands on the sill of the open window of rayne’s temporary room. the animal clamps down on an browned envelope placed in its beak. rayne approaches the bird, and it drops the letter into his hands before flying off.

the mattress of the bend sinks under rayne’s weight when he sits on it. he unfolds the piece of parchment in his hands unsealing the envelope. his eyes scan down the letter that reads:

dear rayne,

how’s your trip? i hope nothing’s gone bad. things back at easton have been the same as usual, but it’s not that fun without you here.

classes are boring, but that’s nothing new. i might rip my brain out. i’ve been baking to try and cope. by the way, when you get back, you have to try this cheese tart i made. i had your brother and a friend of his try them. they seemed to like it a lot. i don’t know the name of the kid yet, but he wants me to make cream puffs next time. he says they’re a lot better than cheese tarts so you’ll have to try those too.

speaking of finn, he’s doing extremely well. he’s making lots of friends which is really nice to see. he always seems nervous to talk to me though. am i intimidating or something. i don’t think i am. unless you’ve been saying some things about me then i think we’re gonna have a problem…

gods, i miss you so much. come back soon. i’ll be waiting for you always. take care of yourself and don’t stress too much. i love you.

- y/n

p.s. please get me a souvenir. thank you! i love you, again.

rayne stands up, finding a sheet of paper and a quill. he pulls out a chair by a table. a slight smile flashes on the visionary’s face as he writes back to you��his home.

[natewriteslol]

"Short" Fuse

Summary: Despite not really being close, Chilchuck opens up to you about being short, you listen and offer some interesting counters to his insecurities.

A/N: a lil sum sum :P

It had been a long, adventurous day, yet Laios continued his search within the dungeon for some food. The entire party was hungry, but of course the two chefs especially held the urge to eat. They both wanted to go after these specific monsters in the area that could be tasty, something about these snail creatures and main course. Despite apprehension from Marcille she tagged along and Izutsumi not wanting to miss out on the action and still wasn't tired due to her slight nocturnal nature followed suit.

They assured the remaining two should keep watch of the supplies of your camp. And with waves from all of them except from the beastman, the four were engulfed within the darkness of the dungeon.

Leaving solely you and Chilchuck.

Your relationship was most definitely not the closest as he adopted a fatherly nature amongst the other members of the party except for Senshi and you. And whilst that makes sense as the dwarf and yourself were both adults just like Chilchuck, it still was completely different.

You honestly just chalked it up to you joining the party at a later date than the rest, despite bonding with the rest of your other people, even getting closer with someone as combative as Izutsumi.

Truth be told, you couldn't stand it as you were at a stand still of a lack of satisfaction. You weren't liked and you weren't disliked as you both almost never spoke to one another. But you persevered and decided to completely break the ice, not caring if you were being weird at this point.

"How is your sight so good?"

He was caught completely off guard, thinking that you both were going to sit in silence the whole time.

"What do you mean?" Chilchuck asked back, side eyeing you.

"When defeating golems, you're the first to spot their hearts before anyone and you spot weak points on different creatures also that others are blind to. How do you do that?" You explained.

"Half-foots typically have keen eyesight, it comes with the hearing too. Big eyes, big ears," he put it simply.

You continued to poke and prod at him and you ended up making decent conversation with the man, even getting a couple of laughs. But somehow your topic had evolved from weaknesses, to then insecurities.

"Laois is an idiot, but I would rather have more height and be able to perform in battle a little more. Half Foots mainly need to stay out of the way and let other people handle it. It feels...cowardly," he says, putting his arms on top of his knees and sighing.

It was catching you a bit off guard but I guess the saying of opening up to a stranger than someone you know is making itself very apparent at the moment.

"I completely disagree man," you replied, taking a more casual approach.

Chilchuck didn't want to completely block your opinion and he was curious about what you had to say surprisingly , "What are you saying?"

"I'd argue every person in here obviously has an asset that they possess, meaning one would fall apart without the other. Also we have all been in close to death situations and you're usually the most likely to survive due to your height," you explained, poking at the fire with a twig as you sat on the cold dungeon floor.

"I guess," he replied, looking off to the side. But the look on his face had told another story, as if the brunette had more to say.

.

.

.

"Ever since my wife left me, I've been more caring about how people percieve me. Gets on my goddamn nerves."

There it was.

The Half-Foot blurted out, both horrified and relieved he got that off his chest. He held a small pebble within his palm, semi- gently throwing a rock into the fire, crackling the wood and which sent out light embers into the air.

He had been definitely holding that in for a long time, and had no idea how to say it or if he could even speak it aloud. It's common for people to feel that way, more vigilant and embarrassed over what others have to say about them especially if they're single. But it had been a while since the Half-Foot truly felt it after being married for so long.

And for the past five years, it had been completely gnawing at him and his security as a man. He was twenty nine yet still couldn't shake that feeling, but with his occupation, Chilchuck couldn't exactly dwell on romance mid-lock picking or battle.

But on quiet nights like this, it got to him.

"Well, you're lucky you're a good looking guy, otherwise you would be screwed," you said bluntly, taking off your boot to get some dirt out from the inside. He was honestly speechless, had you of all people thought that? Or were you just talking to make him feel better.

But this whole interaction makes him feel so weird, but it's not a... negative feeling.

"You are so damn ridiculous, you know that?"

"You can think whatever you want Chilchuck, but I think deep down you know I'm right," you said, your eyes still fixated on your boot cleaning process. Your statement made a blush spread across his cheeks.

"This dungeon is making me talk to you, I swear," he replied frustratedly, growing "tired" of your antics.

"Well good thing we had this talk, since we both have had things on our mind for a while, huh?"

Although you both opened up about how you've been feeling, Chilchuck was doing a majority of the talking on this subject. Was that what you mean? The beginning when you were talking about yourself and not his appearance and you finding him attractive?

Right?

And just as he was about to inquire further, the short man was quickly cut off by a certain loud blonde.

"Hey guys, we're back!" Laios said excitedly from afar, his voice echoing slightly on the dungeon walls, his hands were wet with wet giant snails whilst Senshi carried a large sack of god knows what on his back.

Marcille and Itsuzumi looked green in the face with disgust, but you knew they would most definitely eat the monster Escargot that you knew the dwarf would whip up. The sight always brought a smile to your face, especially their hypocrisy in finding everything Senshi and Laois made yummy.

As you sat up to go and help with dinner, you looked over your shoulder, "Thanks for the talk Chilchuck, we should do this more often."

This was might not curate the best outcome, but why didn't he want to stop?

Why the hell did he even care?

[kinicheous]

dazed | kinich

kinich comes to your rescue, but your oh so poor heart doesn't know how to deal with it.

genres/notes: fluff, angst if you squint, reader is down bad, reader is also injured/poisoned (let me know if something is missing!)

you feel embarrassed. flustered. warm, but in a good way. or maybe not, you can’t tell for sure. you want time to stop, but you also want it to fast-forward you out of the current. you can sense the parts of your body that hurt — which make the reason you’re in this situation in the first place — but your mind is too hazed to care about that really yet. 

kinich’s presence almost throws you off. it makes you let your guard down, but you also feel hyper aware of everything around you. you want to keep a healthy distance that will give the beating against your ribcage a break, but you also want to be closer. closer and closer, impossibly closer, as if you’re not being held against his chest at this very moment.

you’re conscious of every inch of his arm around you, all the way out to the fingertips that dig into your hips to further secure his grip. he’s careful about it, yet knowing just fine what he’s doing, seeing as his vines travel you through the dense jungles of natlan with ease.

the chill air should feel nice against your face like this, brushing it like gentle whips, but it does nothing to cool it down. it’s still burning terribly, and your guess is that kinich can feel it too as you subconsciously nuzzle into the crook of his neck. turns out you’re right because he soon sighs,

“don’t tell me the poison’s giving you a fever.”

you definitely don’t have a fever.

you don’t try to respond back with more than a shake of your head. much to your relief, he doesn’t question it any further. just a quiet “good”, and you realize that even one word alone has a special ring to it as long as it’s spoken in his voice — the more you comprehend that fact, the more pathetic you feel. 

kinich opens his mouth, ready to speak. he doesn’t have a particular interest in scolding someone who’s injured and poisoned to the border of comatose, but this is slightly different; on his way back from a commission, he’d just happened to stumble across your miserable state; it was surprising to see someone greatly familiar with combat crouching back against a tree, heavily breathing while in desperate attempts of hiding from tribal warriors. were you on a commission of your own? or fighting an informal battle? a misunderstanding? he wasn’t sure, but watching them about to gang up on a single, damaged person — who he, on top of that, knew very well — didn’t sit right with him. before you knew it, you were no longer on dangerous ground. or any ground at all.

kinich truly is ready to speak, but nothing comes out when he suddenly feels you fisting his shirt, tightly collecting the fabric between your fingers. so, he closes his mouth, letting out a deep breath through his nose. “stop being scared. i’m not going to drop you.”

you definitely aren’t scared.

you couldn’t be, ever. you trust him, possibly a bit more than you’d like to admit, and you don’t like this type of feeling — this type of affection, one you initially thought would be softer, sweeter and kinder, only to turn out to be much more violent. it feels rather like being internally assassinated, or like having your flesh dramatically ripped apart.

you simply never expected that falling in love with someone meant exposing the most fragile pieces of yourself. 

you can’t handle that any further, so you make a meek attempt to push yourself away from him. claiming that “you don’t have to carry me all the way back,” that “i can walk on my own”, yet it doesn’t surprise you the slightest when he holds you even closer with a scoff he doesn’t even try to cover.

“if i dropped you off by your door right now, i don’t think you’d even make it to your room,” kinich sighs and for a second, in the middle of your growing exhaust, you have to wonder if you’re actually feeling his lips graze the top of your head, “so just rest until we’re there.”

[jacks-little-jacky]

How do you think the other captains would react if Jack a soft cute so but in the battle field she’s just as violent as him

The other Captains | Jack the Ripper x Reader Headcanons

This is the second time I've written this request and I swear to god if Tumblr crashes again and deletes everything I will start pre-writing everything on docs. Also, this isn't my usual request of writing for Jack but rather the other Captain's opinions on something that has to do with Jack, so I hope I somewhat nailed them.

Yami Sukehiro

Honestly he's so confused about how Jack got a gf

She's cute??? Huh???

Since I see them as the best buddies, he's glad that Jack got himself a pretty and sweet gf but he fears how long he's able to keep her because the man is batshit crazy

so he's a bit surprised but relieved when he sees you go crazy too

he was a lil afraid Jack would become too much or maybe try to dull himself down as he only saw your cute side, so seeing how you're able to match him is good in his eyes

still makes jokes about Jack being too dumb to keep a relationship but he secretly ships it fr

William Vangeance

he likes you! you're sweet and nice!

maybe a little weird next to Jack because you seem his polar opposite

doesn't think too much about it, he's glad you make Jack happy

like Yami he spends a little moment to wonder if maybe he'd get too much for you

also relieved but not as much when he sees your other side

also... a little concerned.... especially if you're not a magic knight.

Rill Boismortier

oh! Captain Jack has a girlfriend! He has a heart! A soft side!

and you're so sweet too???

he def. would try to get along with you, partially because he really thinks you're sweet and he's a very friendly guy

also because he hopes it puts him in good books with Jack because he's lowkey scared

His reaction when you reveal your crazy side is like: "... Oh no... they're both insane..."

He likes your passion though! And how it matches with Jack. He sees a certain beauty in how your differences become irrelevant in a dire/battle situation and you both "dance" on the field

Mereleona Vermillion

she doesn't care all that much tbh

she thinks you're sweet but doesn't really waste another thought on it

only get's interesting when she sees how intense you can get

I guess she'd like Jacks willingness to fight so to see that you're kinda double trouble would be relationship goals for her

doesn't really spend much time thinking about it tho

Charlotte Roselei

How

No, just how? Jack? Pulled a girl? A sweet one like you?

She's baffled

You're so sweet? And nice? And that all for someone like Jack?

Charlotte doesn't like most men in general and while I am a firm believer of Jack x Charlotte in a platonic friendship way... She still would be confused how someone likes him ROMANTICALLY

a little happy for Jack tho, she knows he's not that bad (and she likes roudy guys Yami too)

likes you a lot more when she sees you can dish out some too, maybe would even suggest for you to join her squad

a little worried about Jack and you riling each other up though

Dorothy Unsworth

she likes you, you're sweet and she ships the difference in everyday attitude

Now it depends, if you're being unnecessarily cruel, she'd frown at it but she understands well that it's fun to let loose and play with your magic (which can be very destructive at times)

so yeah Dorothy would like the energy but if you're like crazy violent in a sense of hurting more than you'd have to for no real reason she'd be put off a little

she'd pull you into her glamour world sometimes to show you versions of Jack who totally swoons over you because that how it looks like to her LMAO

Kaiser Granvorka

he's also a little concerned about you at first

sure Jack has to be somewhat sane and respectable to be a Captain but I don't think Kaiser thinks too highly of him

he likes you tho, hopes that maybe you'll rub off on Jack a little

when he sees the way you behave in battle he's more concerned

maybe... he doesn't want you to rub off on Jack. He is crazy enough

After all, this man is married as far as I know and I belive he's still as happy as he can be for you two

Nozel Silva

he's... confused.

Now if you're a noble or a royal his mind is genuinely blown and he thinks Jack did some dirty trick to get you with him

if you're a peasant he doesn't care. at all. maybe raises an eyebrow but doesn't care too much.

if you're a noble/royal he's a bit "concerned" about your violent side but of course, you'd be powerful. it does shift his view on the relationship in a more positive light to see that you don't need to use Jack as a bodyguard/are not dependent on him

if you're a peasant his only thought is "Great, now there's two of them..." - he doesn't like your boyfriend and your chances for him to like you are very, very thin

he might like you more than Jack though because you at least have a sweet and soft side that is socially acceptable

Fuegoleon Vermillion

he's pretty much a middle ground of William and Nozel here

he thinks his part but you won't catch onto that

very glad you're a well behaved and mannered woman and you seem to manage Jack's personality well

he can see the appeal for Jack when you match him, you have no reason to be scared if you're the same and you certainly understand his odd... hobbies like this

but also a little concerned that there are now two of that kind together

Julius Novachrono

Man is in everybodies business

he doesn't say or think much of it tbh, he has seen a fair amount of people and how layered they can be

he likes that you're sweet and soft because it definitely could be handy for Jack (he doesn't cause trouble that much but damn him and Yami at the same spot is always a ticking time bomb and oh does your presence keep Jack focused on something else than Yami)

the violent part is only really interesting depending on your magic, if somehow you and Jack worked on a spell or something that boosts both of you when near each other he'd be intrigued

just hope none of you gets hurt (or does something illegal)

[signanothername]

Has the MTT every gotten gravely hurt in a mission and had to return early? I feel like Nightmare wouldn't be to happy about that. He clearly doesn't care about the condition of the people who serve under him as long as they can do there job.

(I'm thinking of missing body parts or lots of gore probably don't ask why)

Oh absolutely, it comes with the job

Nightmare generally tries taking everything into consideration when making a plan, that includes any sudden debilitating injuries his subordinates might end up with, so he does have backup plans usually

Nightmare usually only relies on one of his subordinates in the front lines alongside himself in battle rather than all three of them at once, one of the other two is tasked with different tasks that either spread negativity further, or collect supplies, and the other is either back at the castle for backup, or present in the field but at a great distance, hidden or tasked with a mission of their own that is in a completely different part of the multiverse

Mid-battle rearranged tasks are a thing, so whoever is with Nightmare on the front lines can be retasked and switched with another one of his coworkers instantly without warning, it could happen at any point suddenly had Nightmare decided to for whatever he deems appropriate for the situation, so Nightmare expects MTT to keep up, it’s a risk that comes with their jobs

Oh Murder was tasked to collect supplies from a specific universe that is 52886 Kilometers away from the rest of the gang? Sike! Murder is suddenly teleported beside Nightmare on the front lines against the stars instead of Killer while Killer is now 52886 Kilometers away and is responsible for what was supposed to be Murder’s supply restock job

That is all to make sure to have backup as well as bring a sense of unpredictability to battle to prevent things from going south, know the saying “don’t put all your eggs in one basket”? That’s Nightmare

That of course, doesn’t mean his precautions always work, sometimes things don’t go as planned at all, and backup plans are either already spent or won’t work for the situation, and that would definitely piss Nightmare off, he’d definitely be convinced that someone didn’t do their intended job for things to go this wrong

Generally, any failed missions means that MTT would have to go through a “meeting” of sorts, specifically for Nightmare to figure out who fucked up so he’d punish accordingly

But say, if one of them got severely injured, and Nightmare could continue the mission without them he’ll do it, he would simply teleport whoever got injured back to the castle in that state so they’d take care of their injuries themselves, Nightmare actually expects to return and find that they took care of their injuries and are not waiting for someone to take care of them like children

But if Nightmare couldn’t continue the mission and he had to retreat cause of it, he’ll be beyond pissed, but wouldn’t do anything to aggravate their injuries further, he won’t punish them, it’s not practical and would only serve to further delay his already fucked up schedule cause of this unforeseen event, it’s only a waste of time, instead, he’d use whatever time he has to rework his plans to fit into the new routine he has to work with (and he hates his routine to be thrown off like that) until whoever’s injured is back on their feet

That of course, doesn’t mean that whoever got injured can actually always take care of their own injuries if they got severely injured enough for them to be completely out of it, so Nightmare would make sure that the injured is taken care of and is medically treated until they can take care of their injuries themselves (he usually keeps a watchful eye on them, not out of the goodness of his heart, but to make sure they don’t dust, he isn’t in the mood to bring another one from a different timeline, it’s a hassle)

One of them hopes they’d just dust and be put out of their misery? Too bad cause you have Nightmare here making sure you live through it, you didn’t think he’d just let go did you?

The only exception I’d say Nightmare makes is for Killer, if Killer gets severely injured, then Nightmare would just kill him instantly, cause Killer has the ability to reload and Nightmare is sure Killer would be back, Killer is too spitful to let Nightmare win their little game of control, and once Killer reloads, all his injuries are gone and he’s back to a hundred percent

Nightmare does plan punishments for whoever fucked up, but not necessarily physical ones, mental torment is his favorite activity after all

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, I'm sorry if you're already tired of me, but I have another request.

This one is for Young Justice.In this story, Buddy is a teenage super soldier who fought alongside the Justice Society against the Nazis.

But on one of the missions at the end of the war, she separates from the team and pursues the supervillain until he launches a ballistic missile aimed at New York.

After detonating the rocket before it reaches its target, Buddy is thrown back by the blast wave and falls into the sea.

And for many years she is considered to have fallen in battle until a group of marine biologists accidentally discovers her body frozen in an iceberg.

And by some miracle it turned out that Buddy was alive.

And now she needs to adapt to a new, incomprehensible time, as well as to work with a new team of peers.

We've got a Capsicle in here!

Hope you enjoy!

Super Soldier Buddy who is like Captain America joins Young Justice

SFW, Platonic, Super soldier reader

YOUNG JUSTICE

The Team was used to having different people join them.

But Buddy was defiantly something new.

Because not only was she practically a legend in the League, but she was from a different time.

Buddy was the legendary super solider known as Captain Ace.

She had snuck onto a plane that had a missile in it that was heading straight for New York.

She valiantly steered the plane off course and into the ocean.

Buddy wouldn’t be found until a couple of years later.

She was one of the youngest members to ever join the League and now was joining theirs.

For the non-humans of the team, it was a bit refreshing knowing that they weren’t the only ones finding things weird.

Though they did have to hand it to Buddy that she found many things, even simple things like the microwave, as a technological advancement right next to the Zeta Tubes.

Kid Flash and Robin were the first ones from the team to meet Buddy before the official meeting.

Batman wanted Robin to know who his teammate was and her situation.

It would help her transition better.

Kid Flash had tagged along because he was going to visit Jay to meet someone.

Robin and Kid Flash stop and stare at Captain Ace happily chatting with Jay. Kid Flash: “Rob… pinch me.” Robin happily complies. Kid Flash: “Ouch!” Robin: “Batman told me I’d be meeting her… but actually seeing her… It’s unreal.” Captain Ace turns and sees them staring at her. She smiles and walks over to them. Captain: “Hello, you must be Jay-Jay’s ‘grandson’. And you must be the little birdy Batman keeps telling me about.” Kid Flash and Robin are internally fanboying when she shakes both of their hands.

Both of them are the first to welcome Buddy into the team.

Most of the team does feel a bit intimidated by having such a legend being a part of their team.

…Well, except Connor and Artemis.

Strange enough, Buddy ends up finding them around more than the others.

She eventually confesses that they make her feel like another person and not someone to look up to with impossible expectations.

This does eventually get back to the rest of the team and they do start treating her like another teammate.

But at the same time there were some things to get used to.

One being the constant questions of what Buddy had missed and what certain things did.

Buddy stares at the microwave. Buddy: “I’d never thought I’d see the day that one of these do-hickey’s would be in the same kitchen I eat in.” Wally just eating ice cream from the tub. Wally: “Its not that big of a deal.” Buddy just rolls her eyes. Wally: “Wait what did you eat today? I didn’t see you warm up… well anything yet.” Buddy: “Just some fruit and hardtack.” Wally’s eye twitches. Buddy: “What are you looking at ya, goof?” Wally is suddenly by her side. Wally: “Well sweetness, I’m about to blow your mind with how far food has gone since… hardtack… Rob! M’gann! Get everyone in here! We are getting Buddy caught up on food today!”

Kaldur and M’gann were the ones to show Buddy more of what the team had done and update her on what the missions were about.

As much as the team makes her feel welcome, Buddy does sometimes feel ‘homesick’ for her time.

Not the war of course, but of the peaceful life she had before all of this sudden technology and uprising of Meta humans at every corner.

She refuses to use Jay as a crutch and faces everything head on with her shield by her side.

If there is one thing, she can do right is fight and defend her team.

The team was on a mission. The villain was holding M’gann hostage. Villain: “And if you take another step, I’ll set fire to the green little freak right her—” WHAM! The villain was suddenly knocked out by a familiar shield. M’gann starts falling, only for Buddy to catches her in the air while still being able to run to the others. Buddy: “Is everyone okay?” Kaldur: “Umm, Captain Ace your still holding Miss Martian.” Buddy quickly and carefully sets her down. She looks over them before running back to the villain and kicking him in the stomach. Buddy: “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to not steal!?” Buddy slaps the villain in the face. Villain: “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Just stop hitting me!” Buddy: “I’ll stop hitting you when you swear to stop stealing from defenseless dames, stealing from the innocent and stop being a villain!” Villain: “I swear I’ll stop!” Buddy’s eyes narrow before dragging him by the collar and pushing him to the ground in front of M’gann. Buddy: “Say your sorry for calling her such a name!” The Villain scoffs. Buddy slaps him in the face again. Buddy: “I can do this all day pal.” Kaldur goes to interfere, but Connor, Dick, Artemis and Wally stop him. They wanted to see the show. Villian: “Okay! Okay! I’m sorry I called you a freak! Please stop hitting me!! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” Buddy huffs before promptly knocking him out with a single punch. Buddy drops him before dusting her hands. Buddy: “I just hate bullies you know.”

This has happened to Robin, Kaldur, M'gann, and strangely Connor when Buddy introduces morning runs.

[koisuko]

Hello! Could I request a MK1 one-shot or headcannons of either Tomâs, Kuai Liang, or Bi-Han with a quiet and shy reader who can manipulate water? Maybe the reader is more reserved and prefers to work by themselves but is paired with ^ on a mission and they get closer to one another through different situations they’re put through?

Apologies this took so long, I realized I didn’t know much about Tomas and looked into him some more. Hope you enjoy it!

Gn reader, sfw, hcs

Tw: none, just fluff

You silently approach the doors of Liu Kang’s map room, faint conversation could be heard within. He had called you in for a special favor, a mission, the details still unknown to you. As you lightly knock, you could hear the conversation cease, a soft yet firm voice reaching your ears, “you may enter.” The doors creak open to reveal a rather unexpected sight, three men stand opposite Liu Kang as they surround a long map table. These men were unrecognizable to you, as they all turned to face your small frame. Liu Kang held a soft expression as he addressed you, “y/n, please come in, we have much to discuss.” You smile rather sheepishly, your head low and eyes focused on the wood beneath you, slowly approaching the wooden table. The men continued to stare you down, silently observing you. You kept your distance for the most part, watching Liu Kang’s hands as he guided the symbolic pieces across the paper, detailing the mission ahead:

Bi-Han

At first glance Bi-han would keep you at arms distance, very cold and reluctant to speak to you unless it was required of him.

He would most likely feel distaste in the fact that someone who “isn’t Lin Kuei” will be accompanying him on this mission, let alone just the two of you.

Likely cold and distant at first, only voicing his opinions on your fighting ability. Although the occasional “are you unharmed?” Does not go unnoticed on your end, earning a slight blush to grace your features.

His eyes are very expressive, many years of wearing a metal mask subconsciously taught him to do so, even if he tries to hide it.

His ego and cold demeanor would never allow him to admit it, but he was in fact intrigued by your ability to manipulate water.

He also might feel a sense of protectiveness over your shy and reclusive behavior.

Eventually you will learn that he may not speak words but his actions speak volumes, he protects you when needed in combat, using his ice to aid you where he can.

Despite his words, he does not find your shyness a hinderance, quite the opposite actually. He enjoys the quiet between you two and would much rather focus on the mission than make small talk.

To him, your powers and his combined make a formidable force, enhancing eachother during battle.

He enjoys the power you give him and vice versa, he finds this compatibility admirable, though he won’t ever tell you that. Merely standing by your side and attempting to mix your abilities when the opportunity presents itself.

If he makes you blush one way or another, he will definitely hide a sense of pride rising up in him at making you flustered. Occasionally, feeling confused on what exactly caused this reaction.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang, much like his older brother, is also not much of a talker. Not because he thinks negatively of you, no, he actually admires your prowess when wielding your aqua abilities.

At first he may keep to himself and keep things strictly business, only really discussing the plans and mission ahead.

Kuai Liang is much more approachable than his brother, offering warm welcoming smiles and gentle hushed tones to make you more comfortable.

He would be more openly protective of your reserved behavior, treating you like a delicate flower but never doubting your self sufficiency.

Conversations would be had if you are comfortable to open up to him, he offers a warm and safe environment, giving off gentle vibes to put you at ease.

During the mission he would be taking the lead, understanding that you’re used to working alone and helping you learn the ropes of working with others.

He often worries if your abilities will clash with his, he’s very capable of working around the differences, however.

He will often check to make sure you’re safe and secure, aiding in any injuries you may have acquired in battle. He would never overstep though, making sure you’re comfortable in his care.

When you blush, a small grin will pass over his features, he finds it cute and will attempt to bring that heat rushing back up in anyway he can.

Tomas Vrbada

Tomas is just as shy and reserved as you, he will keep to himself but not in a cold way.

He will offer an ear if you need it, even comforting you if you show that you’re overly uncomfortable.

During the mission his eyes will shine with awe at your unique abilities, the way you handle yourself filling him with determination and inspiration.

He finds your water abilities to be beautiful, and quite fitting to you as a person. He may even observe the way you interconnect your water and fighting abilities seamlessly.

Much like his brothers, he may feel a sense of duty to protect you from danger due to your shyness. Instinctually pushing you behind him when conflict arises.

He won’t say it out loud, as his nerves would get the better of him, but he actually finds your shyness adorable.

To him, you two are much alike and have much in common. He may look forward to having more missions with you in the future.

He will openly complement your abilities, not without the occasional blush or fumble of the words.

When you blush or stutter, he will also blush, not of embarrassment, but out of admiration. He thinks it’s adorable, watching your expression change to that of embarrassment. He may even subtly tease you, only for you to repeat the process tenfold.

When the blood comes rushing to your face, he can’t help but stare, taking in your features and memorizing the way that light pink dusts your cheeks. This only causes your face to become a deeper shade of red, he smiles and looks away, attempting to hide a blush of his own.

Be gentle, this is my first request! Hope you enjoyed it, hopefully I can learn and get better for the future.

[gatitties]

Hiii! Can I please get a s/o who has a big butt, but she’s naturally oblivious about it unless she’s in battle? Like she knows her butt is big but she doesn’t know it’s THAT big, (p.s.: she likes wearing wearing regular shorts!)

─Strawhats, Heart Pirates & Kid Pirates x fem!reader

─Summary: you have a big ass, nothing more, nothing less

─Warnings: none

This is so unserious lol, sorry 🤣 oh and I assumed this would be for one piece bc of your profile since you didn't give any further indication 😅

─ Everyone knows it, you are semi-conscious, it's not a big secret that you have more meat on your buttocks, it's obvious just like Zoro's tits are bigger than Nami's or Robin's.

─ It's not something that affects the rest since it's something normal, they are used to it, however you can get different types of reactions from other parties.

─ You're a total distraction to the most shameless people, but at least you can hit them for being distracted.

─ And you'll just make the situation worse if you wear those jeans, you didn't know the power that 'mom' jeans have over some people.

─ Seriously, you wouldn't think it was that exaggerated, you are aware of your body but not to that level, you could really kill someone if you fell on your ass on that person.

─ Sanji probably made some comment about that before…

─ You'll have to hit Brook more than once so he doesn't bother you with your underwear, he's more persistent with you because he wants to know what size you wear.

─ Nami will hit your butt when you're off guard, you know, girly things, you'll have time to hit it back when she's focused on working with her oranges.

─ Once you played guess who and Luffy put a pillow on his butt to imitate you.

─ They try not to look seriously, but Shachi and Penguin's eyes go away accidentally, you don't blame them, you look at the butt of every person you meet, the problem is that yours is not small by any means.

─ Law will probably scold them just like Bepo because doing that is impolite, but his eyes will also take a look, it's okay Ikkaku will be the one to hit them.

─ You are still a distraction for the most morbid people when you wear those tight jeans, Law probably uses you to distract enemies on more than one occasion without you knowing.

─ He also gives you scientific proof that you could suffocate someone with that.

─ And you tried it on your next mission, yeah, you killed someone with your buttocks.

─ You were more aware of the power you carried, whether hypnotically or as an oxygen-depriving weapon, you were a complete danger.

─ Sometimes you have competitions over offensive comments with Shachi and Penguin and they are definitely using your trunk as insult artillery.

─ You get a lot of praise from Ikkaku and comments that you should share some ass for her.

─ Bepo uses it as pillows, please.

─ It's not a mystery, it's something shouted out loud and admired here.

─ Get ready because if you weren't aware of the size of your ass you will be after spending half a day on this crew.

─ No one wants to offend you, far from it, but they will let you know that you have a couple of generous weapons with you.

─ You won't be saved from the stares, but you also have eyes and you observe too…

─ In fact you have a podium for the best ass of the crew and you and Killer always compete for first place.

─ They definitely use you as a distraction for the nastier guys, but they'll be the ones who take the worst beatings.

─ You will also receive a lot of praise from Heat and Wire, they look like two proud moms seeing how you are not ashamed of your body and you continue wearing those pants that enhance your figure even more.

─ You and Kid have a little competition about who hits the other's ass the hardest and you go completely wild.

─ You've suffocated more than one person and the others time it to know what your best time is.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 5 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): homophobia is still a theme. another dead relative mentioned. smoking cigarettes.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 6

You'd decided to do nothing about Cady's infiltration for now. Or, well, Regina had told you she'd figure it out and given firm instruction to not do anything.

You didn't exactly like that. Then again, you didn't have any better ideas. Obviously, you wanted her to not be around Regina. It was wrong that she was friends with her under the pretence that she was looking for reasons to stab her in the back. Then again, she didn't need reasons. Regina had provided plenty already.

As September dragged along and eventually turned to October, it felt as if day by day your mind split into an exponentially growing number of pieces. Your desire to protect Regina battled with the fact that she had been wrong so many times, had really hurt people. Didn't they deserve some reparation? Didn't Regina deserve forgiveness? Was any of that for you to decide?

You would have to pick a side and make your stance known, eventually. You'd have to plant your feet firmly on the territory you really believed in. Only, you dreaded that you didn't have as much agency as you'd have liked.

Were you weak or strong for always sticking by someone? What would become of you if you didn't stand up for what you thought was right and wrong? Where was the line?

You didn't want to side with Janis and her lackeys. The more you looked at it, the parallel between them—Janis and Regina—started to become obvious. Janis and Regina weren't that different at all.

What did you even want? What could you want? You didn't have answers to those questions.

The weather was getting colder, so you'd shuffled your wardrobe quite a bit. Short-sleeved flannels and tee shirts were replaced by cotton undershirts and grandpa sweaters. Literal grandpa sweaters. You'd gotten the majority of them from your grandfather's closet, which he had left for you in his will. It was a joke you two had shared, that you looked better in his clothes than he did.

Regina certainly didn't think so.

"Those sweaters are fucking ugly." She put it bluntly, chewing on some gum as she surfed channels on your TV. She'd taken to spending a lot of time at yours recently. You guessed it had to do with her dad being home and her friends no longer being trustworthy.

"They were my gramps'." You pouted and slumped onto the couch next to her. Since your first sleepover, the distance between your bodies had gotten smaller each time. Your knees almost touched.

"The emotional baggage makes them even frumpier." She glanced at you before looking back at the TV. "You'd be better off framing them."

"I like them, Reg." You settled back and turned your attention to the screen as well. "I don't tell you what to wear."

"If you did we wouldn't be friends." She quipped, finally settling on just shutting the thing off. "Now, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." You didn't want to talk about it. You doubted you could talk about something like that and both remain calm. You hated shouting. It always made you cry, no matter the situation. You could've been the angriest you'd ever been, not sad at all, and still cry.

"Fine. Be stubborn." She huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to Aaron's Halloween Party."

"Are you?" You turned and blinked at her. "Cool, I guess."

"You know how everybody, like, dresses sexy? It's like the whole point of Halloween, yeah? Cady's from Kenya. She doesn't know that. She thinks Halloween's supposed to be scary."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Ugh, for kids it is. We're practically adults. Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." Regina recited as if from a book. "Karen's words."

"She's very wise, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Regina mused.

"You ever told her that?"

"No, she'd get a big head."

"Karen Shetty would get a big head." You said, disbelieving.

"They want what I have so bad," Regina said. "I have to keep them on their toes."

"Are they even your friends? Or do you keep them close to control them?" You sat up straighter, some dots connecting. "Is that why you got Cady to join you? Because she was too pretty to go unchecked?"

"So you think she's pretty." Regina shifted closer, your knees really touching now. You tried to contain your excitement.

"I feel that's pretty obvious." You leaned in also, almost without noticing yourself. She was like a magnet.

"She had potential. If she were to realize it, who knows what she would've gotten up to."

"You made her realize that. That's a self-fulfilling prophecy if I've ever heard one."

"What do you know about prophecies?"

"I know that if I scoped a threat, I wouldn't make them stronger." You licked your lips nervously. "Keeping an eye on her is one thing, but you've made her an enemy."

"Fine, sure, whatever. Now, I'm gonna bring her down. She's gonna humiliate herself by showing up to the party all scary-looking, and then I'm gonna kiss Aaron Samuels." She grinned and blew a bubble. The thin pink of the bubblegum complimented her eyes.

"Why? To make her jealous? Because she wants something you had?"

"To establish dominance."

"I dunno, Reg." You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face. "You're making an enemy."

"It's what I do best, jorts. Just watch." She got up and headed for the kitchen. Hated to see her leave, loved to watch her go.

So, you watched. You watched her hatch her plans, how she deliberately kept Karen from talking to Cady about high school Halloween party etiquette, which seemed like a challenging task indeed, and how her leash on Gretchen tightened to an impossible degree.

You sat alone in the computer room the night of the party, trying to build a profitable amusement park and failing miserably. Your heart wasn't in it. Not even gaming could take your mind off of Regina.

She was probably kissing Aaron Samuels right now. Right now, their lips were sealed together in a nasty French kiss that surely repulsed anybody close enough to hear the slurping and suckling that came from the union. Aaron was probably on her, touching her everywhere he could get his grubby paws, shamelessly licking at the roof of her mouth like a dog.

While the thought of the jock being a bad kisser soothed you somewhat, it didn't cure the clenching in your chest. Fuck, it was stupid that this hurt you. It wasn't even real, she was using him to get to Cady, but the mere thought of them like that made you want to puke.

You watched the chaos unfold the next morning. At lunch, Janis herded you to their table near the back. You were barely listening, too busy glowering in the general direction of the jock table. Cady was officially on board now, you were told. Regina had officially gone too far for her and now their real plans could commence.

"Hey, dude, are you even listening?" Janis punched you on the shoulder. You glared and punched back.

"No. Yes, I- what did you say? Something about Homecoming."

"Yes!" Janis practically hissed, looking a little manic. You looked at Damien, who was eyeing you suspiciously. "We're spraying water on her when she's inevitably crowned Homecoming queen. Cady's also replacing her moisturizer with lard. Can you think of anything?"

What, you were supposed to contribute to bringing Regina down? She was kidding, right? She continued to stare holes in you.

"Uh..." You swallowed. "I'm not really an ideas guy. I can help in other ways?" You squeaked, desperately wanting out of this whole thing.

"Ugh, you're boring." Janis groaned, slumping against Damien.

"Good talk." You said hastily as you got up. "I'm going to smoke a cigarette now." So acutely uncomfortable, you talked like a robot.

"Can you gimme one?" Janis perked up.

"No, she can't." Damien cast a look at Janis. "We agreed, remember? Smoking only at the garage."

You took that opportunity to skedaddle. They bickered like an old married couple. Though there was no romantic chemistry between them, they were obviously a solid duo.

Janis didn't seem so bitter when she was with Damien. Sure, now that they were planning revenge their focus was on Regina, but they often strayed off track. Why couldn't she just let go? She was clearly doing better now.

As you rounded the building and made it across the lawn towards the bleachers, you spotted a couple making out. The boy had the girl pinned to the wall. You were quite far away and you could hear their lips smacking.

You didn't want to look too close, because gross, but the varsity jacket and pink ensemble were hard to ignore.

You gritted your teeth and pulled out the pack of Marlboros you had on hand. Regina and Aaron fucking Samuels. You lit up and inhaled before you were even properly concealed under the bleachers.

God, you were such a hypocrite. If you weren't over what Regina did to you in middle school, then why should she be? She'd had it worse, too. You couldn't even imagine the consequences of something like that.

If people knew you liked girls, it'd be over. Even if it was sort of like an open secret, because nobody ever asked you about boys or stuff like that, to have it confirmed would ruin you beyond repair.

If people knew you liked Regina, it'd be even worse.

"Hey, why're you sulking under there?"

"Regina, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"Uh, grumpy much?"

"Leave me alone."

You leaned your head back against the steel, looking up at Regina as she stood over you. She was in all pink. A pink, fuzzy sweater, white skinnies, and Uggs. You had a blue, old Carhartt jacket, denim jeans and scuffed Converse.

You matched with her way better than Aaron. You could probably kiss better too. Not that you'd had any practice. But you'd at least have the sense to not slobber all over the one you were kissing.

Unless Regina liked sloppy kisses. As if you'd get to find out.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

I like you. I like you too much and it's hard to think. I can't tell wrong from right.

"It's nothing." You took another drag. "Janis and Damien are plotting. It just makes me mad." Not entirely untrue. You were lying by omission, though.

"What kinda plots?"

You hesitated. How could you? "Nothing concrete yet." Now you were really lying. It sunk like a stone down your gullet, hitting your heart on the way down, and dropped heavily into your stomach. It nearly punched a hole clean through.

"Keep me updated." She lingered and you kept looking at her. What would she look like as Homecoming queen, soaked down to her bones up on a stage? What would she look like after smearing lard on her face?

Not ethereal in the sunlight like this, probably. Though you reckoned ruined mascara and pimples wouldn't do anything to shake off this stupid crush.

"For sure." You just nodded and looked down. You couldn't keep your eyes on her when guilt gnawed at your insides.

"Can I have one?" She hopped over your legs and sat down on the grass next to you.

"A cigarette?" You baulked. "A cigarette for Regina George?"

"Yes, you doof." She laughed and reached for your pockets. "Where's the pack?" She kept patting down your body. Your heart sped up, your palms sweated, and a stupid grin split your face.

"Only one." You turned your face as stern as you could make it. "I'm not ruining your beautiful singing voice."

"You think my voice is beautiful?" When she asked questions like that and looked so small waiting for your answer, you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.

"Yeah," You breathed, sounding a little too sincere, too reverent. "You sang at the talent show in middle school that one year. I think it was a Celine Dion song? Captivating."

"That was so embarrassing. I had such shit breath control." She rested her hand on your thigh, casually, and the other behind your back. Your faces were so close. "C'mon, jorts. Now."

"Nobody complained. Everybody loved it." You reached into your pocket and handed her a cig. She put it between her lips and looked at you expectantly.

If you'd been feeling bold, you would've touched the tip of your lit one to hers. Yours was more than halfway done, so you'd have gotten real close. Maybe in your dreams.

You flicked the lighter to life and held the fire for her. "Suck. Yup, you got it."

She inhaled and let the smoke out of her mouth. You took a drag to keep from laughing. "When you've got the smoke in your mouth, inhale it."

She did as you told and started coughing violently. This time, you couldn't keep the laughter in. She shoved you and you laughed harder.

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