#especially when handling sharp things or tools!

[dilfhos]

HE’S NO DIME

TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER

inspired by [ the worst • j.aiko & basically whole ye album ]

cw;deadoves! abusive relationship, dvbc0n, alcohol, hyperfem!reader (hair done/laid, acrylics, makeup), violent threats, ass play, fingering, derogatory use of bitch, car sex, fear, baby trap, toxic toji, rough handling, toji’s really mean like borderline sadistic, toxic relationship. toji’s slightly delusional. he pulls a tool on ya (ending’s a bit rushed—wanna expand on this and dont wanna reveal tm)

+n; this turned out a wee’ whumpier than intended, trying diff things. i do not promote nor officially romanticize the acts in this fiction. if you find yourself in this situation, please try n’ exhaust every method of telling someone and leaving.

You almost didn’t register the click before the head of the barrel was pointed in your direction, trained directly in between your brows…

wc: 4.9 | MDNI.

“Don’t take it personal, but I just don’t see us…” He flicked his finger back and forth across the table. “You know.”

Under the low glow of the lights in the expansive restaurant, your face cracked but only briefly as you picked up your wine glass and looked away.

The low hum of the crowded dining room was only heard between the two of you, serving no comfort to the looming silence hung aimlessly. Fushiguro tugged awkwardly at his collar, sighing when you didn’t initially speak.

You cleared your throat after setting down your glass as you took your time to formulate a response.

“Right. So, you somehow managed to boss up because inherently you’re broke. Let's start with that. The fact that I’m actually sitting here is a miracle,” You giggled to yourself ignoring the way his lip twitched up at the corner.

If he weren’t surrounded by such a distinguished audience at the moment, you wouldn’t have gotten so far but he let you have it. You continued with a wicked upturn of your glossed lips.

“So somehow, you’ve gotten a hold of a shit ton of money. And the first thing you do is demand I ‘doll up’ for you, bring me here just to tell me I don’t mean anything to you.” He shrugged as your gaze narrowed.

“You pay your bills, Toji? Pay your debt collectors? Pay for your past exploits. You know my card is still being billed to this day! Heh, and the very first thing you want to avoid talking about is where we stand.” You jabbed a finger against the table.

“I’m tired of it. Tired of the push and pull. You’re a grown ass man! Can’t take care of yourself but want to drag me down to hell with you.”

You could go on but the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to slap the shit out of him. Your words were sharp, everything inside having been edged each time you saw him. They felt good to say but it didn’t seem like it was enough especially considering how unbothered he seemed to be across you.

“You need to stop talking now.” He deadpanned.

By now your other hand was pressed against the table, freshly manicured hands gripping into the tablecloth. It seemed your own composure was slipping to reveal more of the betrayal and resentment inside. Still, you fought through the budding sluggishness, plump lips set in a tight line as you glared back.

“Didn’t have to agree on coming if yer just gonna shit-talk me. Coulda spent my hard-earned money on a nicer bitch.” He countered.

You scoffed. “Hard-earned money my ass. You stole that shit. And like anyone would be sane enough to put up with you for as long as I have. Regardless, that’s not the point here,” You thrusted a single digit between him and yourself.

“I’m leaving and you’ll never see me again until you get your shit together.” He was silent, watching the subtle tightening of your jaw and slitted eyes.

“So you’ve clearly missed my point altogether.”

He said it so casually, igniting the fire in your gut to spread along your body. Your face burned, heat nipping at your nape and the pit of your arms as he just sat there.

Fushiguro stared back at you, not missing the twitch in your cheek with his deadpan expression. But deep down he was roused. He knew exactly what buttons to push to get a reaction out of you, make you fall apart in any sort of way because he knew exactly how it would end. You were close too, just needed a bit more of his nonchalance as you spiraled through your anger.

Your hands moved to drag down your face, only last minute remembering your makeup and opting on clipping your fingertips together in irritation.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that right.” You started moving, throwing a napkin over your barely touched meal.

Fushiguro was silent as he watched you gather your belongings. You didn’t look at him; you knew he wore that goofy expression, lips twisted up in a condescending smirk with amused eyes as you did what you’ve always done.

He only picked up his glass, eyes trailing down your body and landing on your ass as you turned off without a word, heels clacking as you maneuver around the approaching waiter toward the door. The vision of glass and the flood of richer sunlight blurred through brimming tears as you pushed through, immediately met with the subtle frost of the autumn chill.

Fushiguro watched you go and heard the distant chime of the front entrance closing behind you too. He felt alone in the middle of the restaurant surrounded by only a reminder of what he couldn’t have. He simply huffed, nudging aside his half-empty glass to go straight for the wine bottle. His other hand came up to pop open the blazer buttons, bringing forth little comfort to the heat flushing his skin.

Brazenly he choked the neck, downing the sweet taste in two, three, five gulps before slamming it down, meeting the eyes of the rich bitches to the table next to him. With a toothy grin he stood, fisting out wadded, striped bills from his pocket to throw down before eventually heading out, a wobble in his steps.

Met with the cool air, his head cocked to the side to see you at the far end of the sidewalk in front of the building, pacing with slow steps as you talked into your phone. You didn't look his way, didn’t seem to notice even as he headed in the direction of his vehicle.

Both of you knew you didn’t have a ride, being that he was the one who wanted to bring you. He chose this far-out location specifically, knowing something like this would happen. That you’d try to run from him, call up one of your childhood boys to come and try to intimidate him.

More of the sleek black SUV came into view as he unlocked the door, immediately awakening the car with a low hum from the fob. He got in and sat in silence, eyes trained on you through the mirror. You were looking towards the entrance now, probably still waiting for him to walk out. To grab you up. To apologize and offer to take you home, make it up to you just like the prince concocted preciously in your deluded mind would.

He enjoyed the anger on your features as you brought your phone back in front of your face, tapping the screen angrily before shaking your head.

Fushiguro shrugged out of his coat, flinging it behind him. He then put his car in reverse and began backing out of the parking space. You didn’t notice the hulking vehicle stalking up beside you until he rolled his window down.

“Get in.”

“Fuck off Toji,” He laughed and leaned over, engine revving in succession. “I'm so serious. Leave me alone.”

You spun in the opposite direction, waking up your phone again to call another car. Anything to get away from him.

Starting back toward the warmth of the restaurant, a sudden snarl of the car ripped through the lot, startling you. He skidded backwards and had you stumbling as he jerked the vehicle to a stop. You knew well enough that he couldn’t hit you on the sidewalk, but something deep inside told you if given the opportunity, he’d run you down with no hesitation.

Witnesses be damned, he’d skip town, leaving you behind altogether like nothing.

The car door slammed shut and Fushiguro emerged from the side growing bigger in sight until he loomed over your body. You realized he’d taken his tuxedo coat off in the car, the white button down snug over a bulging frame. His hands flexed, clenching and unclenching as he blinked narrowed eyes toward the other passerbys.

“Get in the car. Why’re you making a scene?” He muttered getting closer to you.

“I don’t want to be around you right now. I’m tired of you playing me,”

“Don’t be stupid. Just get in the car. We can talk about it,” he gripped your wrist and you attempted to jerk him off.

“Let go of me.”

“Don’t push me.” He warned.

“Or what? I’ll be replaced?” You shrugged him off again and he let you. “Woe to me. Go home Toji. I'm calling a cab.” Before you could bring your phone to your ear, he snatched it away. You couldn’t get a word out as he spun on a heel and stalked toward his car wordlessly, the sound of the door slamming following. You gaped after him, eyes flickering about the audience your interaction drew.

They whispered among each other and your cheeks burned as you followed him, cutting around to the passenger side. You flung open the door.

“Toji please give me my phone so I can call someone to get me. We don’t have to keep doing this and I’ll be gone.” Your voice remained calm as you bit back the tremble.

You almost didn’t register the click before the head of the barrel was pointed in your direction, trained directly in between your brows. Black swallowed the olive specks in his eyes, pupils seeming to pulsate under his leveled gaze.

“Get in the car baby.”

…

The ride started quiet as he turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Your body was pressed toward your side of the vehicle, away from him as you stared out the window.

Until your sight turned rural, the familiar scene of the apartment complexes that surrounded yours parting into spaced treelines. You snapped your head to face him, his expression unreadable as he continued driving.

“Take me home.” You glared a hole through his temple but he didn’t register your demand. Only strummed his finger against the steering wheel as he stared at the road, humming to the low faded music playing.

“I'm serious. I never want to see you again. I want you to take me home.” You shoved his arm hard, earning a faux surprised expression as he gaped at you. “Take me home now, Toji.”

“Okay, okay relax. Just sit there and be pretty, yeah?”

“Screw you.”

He laughed again, foot quickly pounding the pedal as you jerked forward, yelping as the revving grew louder in your ears. The scenery whipped through the window blowing cold air along your body.

“What are you doing!”

“We’re going home right? ‘M taking you home, we’re juss getting there faster.” He chuckled darkly, tongue laving over his scar as he glanced over at you. The way your wide, glassy eyes stared back, a hand clutching your door and the other in your lap. His eyes flickered up and down your body, eyeing the heave of your chest behind the strappy bodice of your dress as he only inched his foot lower.

“You’re gonna kill us!”

“Till death do we part.” Toji only grinned as his hand clutched the wheel, ignoring the way you gawked at him. Tears sprung fresh in your eyes as you clutched yourself, hair wild as it whipped around you through the wind. You clawed at the strands sticking to your gloss as your other moved to the handle instinctively.

“What, you gonna jump out at ninety-eight miles per hour? I’d love to see you try it sweetheart!” He roared in boisterous laughter, the taunting noise loud over the buzz of the engine, swirling aimlessly around your fuzzy mind.

“Please,” He turned again at your whimper, noticing the trembling in your chin as you bit your lip. In the passenger seat, you looked pathetic. Not at all the big bad attitude you personified publicly just an hour before as you stared at him disgusted.

Instead you’re cowering against the door, fear etched all over your face. “Stop it. I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.”

He eased his foot up until the car came to a crawl. When he stopped, it was quiet again, save for the anklet jingling against your shaking legs and subtle breaths.

You only met his eye for a second before you flicked the lock, jumping out as you ignored the way your leg buckled onto the soft ground.

You whipped your head around, the treelines gone completely to the highway surrounded by mountains and country space. Straight ahead was a bar before the plunging drop of the hill you were standing on. Stumbling back against the door you start to circle around the car toward the road.

“What are you doing? You wanted to talk so let's talk!” You waved him off as bleary eyes scanned both directions. Toji sighed, leaving the driver side to go to the backseat. He situated himself comfortably against the new leather, relishing in the subtle fan of fresh heat coming from the vents as you frantically searched for another car. He popped the buttons of his sleeves and collar before groaning to roll the window down.

“Get in or I’ll leave you out here. I’ll throw you off the fuckin’ ledge and no one will find you. You want that?” He leaned further when you looked back, lips agape. “Then get in the damn car.”

You shivered again against the bite of the evening, now painfully aware of the darkening sky and desolate surroundings. Your arms crossed, internally regretting the bodycon you wore, feeling exposed and idiotic as you looked back and forth between the highway. A single car hadn’t passed in the moments you’d been standing there and when you peered back toward Fushiguro, you knew it was exactly what he’d been betting on.

“I just wanna go home,” you whined, lifting a sinking heel from the earth. You nearly stumbled and Fushiguro huffed at your composure.

“I'm gonna take you home. Will you get in the car? Please, woman?” His speech was slow, emphatic as he dragged it out. As if he didn’t go through the trouble putting the two of you in the very predicament.

You turned, a pout on your face as you defeatedly made your way to the other side of the car, giving another forlorn look to the road, hoping that maybe headlights would flood the asphalt. Instead you made sure to slam his backdoor behind you, hard.

He didn’t flinch. He just watched closely as you scooted the furthest you could away from him.

It was eerily quiet, your sniffles heard over the hum of the vents.

“Why do you hate me,” you eventually whimpered, head lolling against the back of the passenger headrest. Even though he turned the heat on you shivered erratically, exhaustion beating its way through your static body.

“Because it pisses me off when you spout about shit you know nothing about. You don’t know what I do. What I can do.”

Not that he didn’t hate you. Not that the very accusation was absurd given everything the two have been through; what he’d put you through. What you’d done for him and who you became to appease the insatiable hunger that was Fushiguro.

You slumped back against the door at his response as your eyes flickered to the metal on his thigh. He followed your gaze before lifting it to make a show of turning it over. You jerked your knees back as he leaned toward the front seat to shove it in the glovebox with a snicker. He sat back, closer and he slung his arm against the back of the seats.

“So,” he waved a hand toward you. “Y’gonna talk?”

“You gonna hurt me if I try?” You mumbled half-heartedly.

“I will if you push me.” His face was dark before he grinned. “Kidding, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you. I lo-” He stopped himself, clearing his throat.

“Just need to stop acting out. I do shit my way. And tha’s that. Nothin’ to it.” He ignored the downturn of your lips, obviously disatisfied.

“Then I’ll go,”

“You won’t.” He countered definitively. He inched closer watching your shrink into the door.

“I’ll run away. And you’ll never find me.”

“I’ll hunt you down b’fore you could even think of tryin’.” He leaned in.

“To-mmf!” He had your head shoved against the window, a hand against the headrest to hold his weight. The other was furled in the roots at the crown of your head as his tongue shoved past your lips, licking at your thrashing tongue. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails sinking into his nape as you subtly bucked back. But there was nowhere to go. He pulled away, eyeing your state.

The makeup he’d assume you worked so hard on was fucked up, mascara smeared beneath wet eyes, lashes clumped with fat tear drops. Your nose was puffy and if he looked closer, he could make out the bit of moisture beneath, evidence of your crying. Your lipgloss was smudged, smearing opaque brown across swollen lips above a trembling chin.

And he couldn’t find anything worth more staring at.

“Wanna be a good girl now?” He huffed, eyes training down your body when you stopped moving. The dark dress was taut against your body, snatching subtle curves and accentuating your figure. It was hiked unintentionally up your leg and he slid a wide palm over your thigh to reveal more skin. Thighs snapping closed, you whimpered as his eyes jerked to yours.

“What? Don’t wanna make it all better? ‘S all your fault y’ know.” He sneered, shrinking to his side of the backseat.

You sat up and straightened your dress, palming back the hair you knew he messed up in his handling. “I didn’t do anything Toji. You’re just insane,”

He scoffed. “You been fucking with me all night. Didn’t have to take you out at all,”

“All I asked was what we were.” Silence. He imstead snarled out his window, eyes darting around the dark scene outside before starting.

“Not gonna be the man you want me to be. Take it or leave it. I don’t care if you cry, you stay, you leave— If that’s what you really want.”

“It is.”

“Yeah?” He grinned as he finally looked at you. And really looked at you.

Beneath his scrutinized gaze you straightened the best you could, eyes narrowed. But deep down Fushiguro knew you weren’t going anywhere. He’s had nights worse than this and seemed to always know exactly what to do to bring it back.

You could spout your absence and threaten him all you wanted. Take a few days, take a month even to recuperate, he’d implore you! The more time he’d give you, the easier it was to come crawling back with some half-assed explanation as to why he needed comfort, why he needed you in his life. Your hopeless devotion was something he’d been picking at from the beginning. Since he met you, little by little he revealed more layers of how much you’d tolerate and how far he could push.

Even now, as he licked his lips, bloodshot eyes glinting beneath the light post, he saw your eyes dart away as you began to shift around uncomfortably.

“Thought so. Now c’mere. On my lap…that’s it baby,” He cooed as you begrudgingly crossed the space to situate yourself awkwardly on his legs. You kept your eyes down to his chest.

“Look at me.” When you didn’t, Fushiguro slid his hand around your head to palm your nape. You whimpered as your face was brought closer to his. “Yer gonna be good f’me now?” He cooed.

“Answer me when I speak to you. Or yer still thinkin’ of leaving, hm?” His other hand crept up your shin, traveling to slide beneath your dress and rest on your hip. When you still didn’t respond he grinned.

“Open your legs, lemme see how wet she is f’me,” You still weren’t acting fast enough for his liking, earning the handling on your knees as he roughly spread you himself. Calloused thumbs dug into the plush of your thighs as he got a sight of pussy deeply outlined by your panties, lacy material sticking to fatty wet lips.

“Drooling. Look at ’er.” You whimpered as mashed his thumb against your slit, bearing no tenderness as his eyes flickered to your expression.

“Toji-”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “I let you speak enough in the restaurant. And you didn’t wanna answer me now. So stop fuckin’ talkin or I’ll hurt you, seriously.”

“Make yerself useful and pull that fucking dress up. Matter fact—Take it off, yeah. Here,” He shoved away your sluggish hands, yanking the fabric over your head as it tussled your hair. His hands trailed up your back as he drank in your dazed expression. Your lips parted to speak.

“What. Wanna complain s’more?” Nails dug into your scalp as your head was jerked to the side, meaty fingers curled in your locks. Fushiguro’s hips bucked, knocking your legs apart again as he skillfully shoved the crotch of the lace to the side. His fingers flicked up against your clit, as he dove forward with teeth bared, attacking your neck feverishly. His canines scraped over the prominent bone of your collar before digging in.

“That…that hurts,” His grip was gradually tightening on your hair as he started stroking your weeping cunny. Even so, your hips dragged, sensitivity ever growing as you smeared your arousal along his pants. He plunged two of his fat fingers into your cunt, make your body arch into him.

You didn’t know where to put your hands, mind still hazy and you were unsure of what to do. Adrenaline and alcohol coursed through, the building of the evening's events spilling out through the eventual shy tugging of his belt.

“Please,”

“What? Daddy didn’t quite catch that.” His hand stilled, palms slickened with the juices he was drawing from you.

“Won’t say nothin’ anymore. Don’want you to be mad—Don’t want you to be rough,” you rushed, trembling hands stroking the sides of his neck.

“Shoulda thought of that before shooting your mouth off.” He took over, hands flying to tug at the leather from the loops. You lifted slightly for him to shove his pants around trunked thighs, practically drooling to see he wasn’t wearing anything beneath. His heavy cock sat against his thigh, chucky in width and long enough to split you a gape.

Under your gaze, it jumped excitingly and ignited the assault of fluttering in your tummy. His hand jerked to regain your attention, the other hand fisting his dick with a couple languid strokes.

“Should fuck your brains out and leave you here,” He leaned forward capturing your nipple in his mouth, the edge of his teeth grinding against the swollen bud. “Uhnn, th-that, Toji!”

His tongue lashed over the indents before releasing your tit with a wet smack.

“Want my dick baby?” You nodded as best you could in his grip, soreness budding in your neck from the angle as hands sooth down his chest to pop open the rest of his buttons.

“Eager now? Thought ya wanted to leave,” he chucked. You ignored him, hands sliding beneath the flaps of his open shirt. You palmed his chest, his heart beating beneath prominent pecs as your fingered grazed his nipples, making him grunt.

His hand stuck against your ass like a crisp snap as you shimmied. “Yeah, keep that ass moving.”

Your acrylics clawed at his neck as you grounded your hips, whining as you frantically tried to move and appease him. It still didn’t stop another blow before he smashed the globes of your ass together, using them to roughly thrust you along his cock, his arousing leaking from his slit.

“Fuck, look at you slut. Can’t enough of me huh,” He huffed, rutting up his hips and groaning at the friction.

He tore your panties to the side again, using the skinny strap to prop against the side of your ass.

He had arm wrapped to lift you and shove you down on his monstrous length as a sob racked through your body.

His elongated groan echoed in the steamy car with your cry as you lifted slightly, cunt spasming around his puffy tip. He shoved you back down completely before his hand struck your ass again.

Your hand slammed against the hood, the other against the window, feeling the wetness of the steam through your palm. You threw your head back, the tug in your tummy satiated through his hands, through the way his dick massaged your ridged walls, thick head bumping against the fatty hole of your cervix. His hands trailed around your sticky skin, palming your tits and allowing you to take over, thighs flexing as you rode him.

“Look so good, princess. Taking my dick, I might forgive ya,”

“I hate you,” You cried, as though to somehow ease the way his fingers pinched cruelly at your nipples. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring the image of him grinning in your face. He brushed away the spilling tears, thumb trailing sloppily over your swollen lips.

“I know,” he pressed it past them, dragging the corner of your mouth to reveal your teeth. You resisted the alarming urge to bite him until he thrusted it deeper against your tongue, choking you.

His cock snapped up, balls slapping your ass as his thick veins scrubbed your gummy walls. You couldn’t help but drool and squeal, face slack and shiny with sweat and dirty tears ran down your face, makeup utterly ruined. He pulled his thumb out before muttering, “I know, tell me again sweetheart.”

His hands slid down to pull apart the fats of your ass as his dick drilled deeper, middle finger pressed against the opening of your hole between them.

“I-” A wolfish grin split his face as you visibly shivered when he pressed deep, the pad nearly disappearing inside. He knew exactly where you liked it, what switch to turn on, where to poke and prod. It’s what had you coming back for more. Begging more more. And he’d give it to you, always, even if you had to drag it out of him.

“God, I hate you Toji…Fushiguro. Wish I never met you!” At your blubbering, his hands snaked around your waist, gathering both wrists behind you at the small of your back under a large palm. Your head fell behind you against the driver seat, back arched as he had you trapped in the new and limiting position.

Fushiguro’s hips continued to flex, cock tearing through your little cunt as you bounced on his lap. His other hand gripped at your ass cheek, pulling it away before delivering another smack.

He growled at your fucked-out composure, relishing in the arch of of body as your tits bounced in his vision. His balls tightened as more and more of your whining grew broken and more incoherent.

“Can’t—Can’t hold it! ‘m gonna cum! Gonna,” He leaned forward, restricting your movements to keep you from squirming.

“Look a’me. We’re gonna cum together, yeah?”

Your eyes glossed briefly before you tugged your arm half-heartedly. He scooted forward, thick thighs unrelenting as they thrusted upward. He didn’t miss a beat even when you began writhing on his lap, the sound of sicky pap pap paps! quickening as it filled the car.

“Wait-Wait…can’t nut in me. Toji ‘member I stopped—”

“-Shh it’s okay, I wanna start a family,” Your lips snapped shit as you froze and he grinned, continuing. “‘Mma make you a mommy how’s that sound? You want me so fucking bad, I’mma keep you forever. Surprise, baby.”

He let you wrench free from his hands this time, knowing you weren’t fit for the strength needed to crawl away from him. His heels dug into the floor and he bucked off the seat, car creaking as hands falling to your hips.

“‘M gonna fill you up. Yer gonna take my fuckin’ load bitch. Yer gonna be my little trophy wife and ‘mma stuff my seed into this pussy. ‘Nd yer gonna give me a little bastard, honey,” Spit flew around gritted teeth as nails clawed your skin, words tumbling out unfiltered.

He didn’t care to hide it at his point, you’d been provoking him all night. He wanted to let it go, wanted this night to be the closest thing to a peaceful dinner the two of you had. Through the fiery arguments budded a deeper emotion he couldn’t describe but all he knew is you had him wrapped around your finger and he had you gripped with all of his. Fushiguro didn’t want to admit it to you but his feelings were intense, an ever growing storm swirling within him as much as he tried to stuff it down, to push you away entirely.

But you had to go and run your fucking mouth.

“Stoppit, I shit…You can’t! You scratched at his hands, twisting your body away from him.

“Shut up! Fuck just…shhh baby. Ya can’t stop me.” He growled, holding you flush against his heated body as his hips stuttered. They twitched against your thighs as his cock throbbed inside your walls, hot thick cum spilling into your cunny.

You cried out, fingers yanking at his sweaty locks, cunt involuntarily twitching around his girth.

“Toji!”

Your name spilled out at the same time, muffled into the curve of your neck. Your palms pressed against his chest to push him away but he countered with precision, thick limbs wrapping around your arms as he sat back against the seat to pull you into his chest.

“Yer mine now, ‘s what ya wanted.” He grinded his hips slowly, thrusting his spilling, warm nut back into you.

It was a second layer when you stilled, defeated as your chest heaved against his in a silent sob, sticky cum leaking around your thighs. His dick jumped around inside you as he nuzzled your neck with his lips.

“Now you can’t go nowhere baby, I’ve made sure of it. We’re gonna go home now and yer gonna be good for’me right?”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ari everything you write about Clark is an absolute dream! Thank you so much for sharing!

"What is it with you two, anyway," Clark asked, watching you navigate the downtown traffic at speeds that had him fidgeting with his seat belt.

You shrug carelessly, "When we were kids it was just easy to be friends. We were both too smart for our own good. And after his parents died; well. Shoving Bruce into whatever I was doing got him out of the house. And Jackie was a capable sitter and kept us out of too much trouble. So it gave Alfred a break."

Clark nodded. There was more. Everyone knew that. That had been Bruce's story for years. He'd ALWAYS talked fairly openly about how important you'd been to him. Especially then.About how much Alfred had adored you. Trusted Jackie. What he wanted to know was about Selina. That's what didn't add up. On paper, you and Bruce were a perfect match. The playboy and the Athlete. Young. Beautiful. Driven. Childhood Bestfriends. Beacons of a new and brighter age... If he tried he couldn't dream up a better story. Hell. Papers had been doing it for years. But instead, you were tooling around Metropolis thinking about getting a nice apartment there. And Bruce was still calling your phone and being ignored.

"When we got older of course, Bruce started to make other friends. Upper crusty, fancy friends. And that's where Oliver Queen came in. And about that time Selina was working her way in." You snort. Ollie, Bruce and I tended to make just enough trouble to be Salacious but not dangerous. To make a headline or two. Feed the Paparazzi. Get a little rambunctious. And between their money and my dimples we could get away with anything short of a felony."

"I believe it," Clark huffed. He'd been the victim of your pouting too many times to believe it had much to do with the money. You were too cute and too sweet looking when you looked up at him all doe-eyed and "Please, honey?" It was dangerous. He rolled over every time. And you knew he was gonna. Thankfully, you didn't exploit it for much more than getting him to carry you to bed. Or convincing him to clean your car off in the morning when it was frosty.

"And With Bruce being an awkward aloof little weirdo before he figured out how to act like a whore, it wasn't a bad thing having a couple pretty girls just in rotation. We laughed at his jokes. We teased him and made him blush- we made him human instead of an oddity."

"Until?"

"Until," you sigh, "Selina wanted him to herself and made it a competition. She wanted what I had with Bruce but she didn't understand what that WAS."

"Not romantic?"

"God no," you scoff, "At least not on my end. It's hard to want to kiss someone when you spend most of the time you talk to them wanting to choke them."

"Fair," Clark chuckled, refraining from pointing out that you liked that sometimes.

"I love Bruce. Dearly. But I'm not in love with him. I just- sometimes I feel more like I'm a security blanket to him than a person. Selina is a person. She gets to be complicated. She gets to be messy. She gets to fuck up. And I get to be there to put him back together."

"That doesn't seem fair," Clark said frowning.

"Life's not fair."

"Even after Jackie-" Clark broke off, biting his tongue. It was a sore subject. Painful. And he heard your heart stutter just at the thought. The sharp exhale, like it was still a gut punch made his own stomach clench.

"He wasn't there," you say simply. "He was training. He didn't even know- Alfred tried but. It's not like anyone could just call him. No one knew where he was. He just came back twice as ripped and twice as angry."

"And you were alone?" Clark said incredulously, "That whole time?"

"Alfred was there," you remind him. "And I did- do have other friends I just- it was hard."

"I know you told me to stay out of it, baby," Clark grumbled, "but Bruce really deserves-"

"What good would it do?" you challenge, "aside from make it harder for you to work with him later? I'm a big girl. I can handle it. And I will. In my own time."

"Alright," Clark said, claiming the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and kissing it softly. "But. I'm gonna step in if I feel like he crosses a line."

"Which line?"

"One I really don't like."

[thegatorsgoose]

Mourning Dove notes, batch #1

So since I am a very visual thinker, whenever I post my ideas (that aren't in-the-moment rants, that is) I like to draw something for it. It's the closest thing I can get to transferring something directly from my brain to yours. Unfortunately, I have a lot of thoughts, which means I have a lot of drawings I want to make to help get my points across. And since it's easier to write my ideas down as they come to me anyway, I'll be posting Mourning Dove stuff in batches, drawing + notes = a batch :)

Speaking of the drawing part, this is actually a redraw of fanart I did for Wayne's Haunted Mansion I drew a while ago, so you can actually use the bear as a size reference! He's bigger than Bearwing now, but to be fair the bears not that big. Danny, at 14, is 5”2 at most, probably closer to 5’0. He's still a small king.

I decided to have him be 14 when he becomes a vigilante because 1. That seems like a reasonable amount of time for him to have recovered mentally and physically enough for him to be able to handle unfamiliar environments and have the training necessary to be cautious and know when and how to step in (at least 4 years of training + his powers make him a tiny terror).

2. Yo Danny Phantom he was just 14

This batch is going to be dedicated to why Danny is this au has autism and ADHD, and how that affects him. The why will come from the original fanfic this au is based on, Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by @tathartiel (which you should definitely read if you enjoy dp x dc!). How it affects him will mostly be part of the au. Ok? Ok. I tend to ramble a bit but I tried to make it easy to follow.

First of all, Danny enjoys knitting! He's already sewing, it's only the natural progression for him to find out about knitting, and the family would definitely try to encourage the hobby with less sharp tools. It gives him something to do with his hands, and at the end of the day he has something he made all by himself, something he can be proud of. He loves making stuff for people he cares about, he likes knowing he can do something to keep his loved ones warm, whether by making a blanket, scarf, sweater- you name it. He's definitely not great at first, but he does practice a lot. Whenever he's nervous or fidgety, it's nice to do something with his hands.

One of his favorite parts of knitting is the yarn itself. Specifically the texture and feel of certain yarns. The Waynes are rich so they have no problem supplying him with extremely soft yarns to make the softest sweaters and blankets. And you know how he loves pillows? Well I'd imagine that he’d also love the extremely thick, pillowy yarn. He uses it to make a huge blanket that enhances his pillow nest 10 fold. The day he got a giant roll of thick fluffy yarn he spent all day making a giant fluffy blanket out of it, and the following night shoving it in the birds and bats faces so they can experience the bliss that is the feeling of his new soft, pillowy creation.

Speaking of textures, Danny loves hoodies, especially his Batman hoodie(s). Not only so that he can physically show his appreciation for his family, but that they are warm and soft on the inside, and make him feel secure. His siblings have all gotten him their merch at one point or another, but it wasn't until Jason got him Red Hood merch in the form of a leather jacket did they realize that texture could be a problem. The inside was just not working for Danny, but he was happy to have merch so he tried to ignore it to make Jason happy. It lasted until dinner that night, Danny had a breakdown because the uncomfortable feel of the jacket was agitating him and suddenly the klinks of silverware on plates was to loud, the scrapes and stabs of forks hitting the plates felt like he was physically being hit on the head, and the vibration of the table when someone moved felt like pins and needles going through his arms that were resting on the table. It all became too much for him and he excused himself from the table with a wobbly chirp before promptly disappearing.

It wasn't until later that night, before Jason left, that he reappeared in front of him, tears in his eyes, and handed back the jacket with a guilty chirp. It took Jason some prodding to get Danny to explain why he was handing it back, and then when he finally understood it took a lot more convincing to get Danny to understand it's ok to not like the jacket, no i'm not mad at you, its ok. After he got Danny to calm down he left the manor and informed the rest of the group chat of the new development… and then got Danny another, comfier Red Hood jacket. Bruce, having autism himself (i'm not even sure if that's a headcanon or canon at this point), helps Danny in making sure he knows its ok to feel that way about certain textures and asks what textures he likes and doesn't like, even writes them down so when buying something online or getting something tailored, they can make sure it won't be uncomfortable. His siblings 100% take advantage of this list and start a sort of unspoken competition of who can buy Danny his favorite piece of merch.

Speaking of merch, he has a hoodie of every single Gotham vigilante and wears one almost 24/7. The media was given the vague explanation that Batman saved him from a physically abusive household at 10 (or whatever his age ends up actually being, they don't reveal his existence to the world until he's 12, where by that point he can change back into his human form comfortably. I'm making the assumption he eventually can for the au cus I don’t know everything) so they just assume it's hero worship from that. His siblings however know that it's because he loves them and thinks they're the coolest people ever. Everyone thinks he's adorable anyway. When he first saw Mourning Dove merch he was super excited, until he realized it would be too uncomfortable to wear. Later that week when Bruce gives him a tailor made Dove hoodie, he cried. (Bruce totally won the competition for it, the kids are just a little bitter about it)

Merch was made for him because Gotham does know Mourning Dove exists, mostly from eye witness accounts of the baddies he took down, but also from the literal one blurry video of him that exists. It shows Dove holding onto Batman's cape as Red Robin talks. This was taken on his first official patrol, so he was a little nervous. At first Gotham was mad at Batman for bringing yet another child into the fold, until all the criminals Dove brought in came back terrified. They realized they really should have learned their lesson from the latest Robin, and now just respect their funky shadow child.

However Dove doesn't actually come out all that often. He started his vigilante career because he got wrapped up in the supernatural side of Gotham, at first it was just helping the occasional stray ghost find their haunt, but you know how dangerous magic and the supernatural world can get in just the blink of an eye. Think Jujutsu Kaisen, he was able to see Gotham spirits causing and feeding off of citizens misery, and he just can't not help. When the Batfam realizes what he's doing, he's fully committed to helping the spirit of Gotham deal with her curse. They know there's nothing they can do to stop him, so they do the next best thing and give him armor, a mask and a weapon. They also up his training, which they had been doing before because… it's Gotham. So Mourning Dove doesn't actually come out as often as the others, just either when they're down on members, there's an emergency and need his powers, they want to teach him something, or when he just asks.

… Anyway, back on topic. Another way his autism affects him is making him mostly nonverbal/selectively mute. I'm making the assumption that they eventually do get his voice back, but at that point he can adequately communicate without his voice, using chirps and gestures. He knows now that if he needs to talk (talking to a stranger, needing to explain something more complicated, etc) he usually can. Usually. If he's stressed or uncomfortable in any way, he often finds that he can't talk. Thankfully he's been learning sign language for a few years now and can get across simple ideas and feelings just fine in a pinch. And sometimes, he doesn't even feel bad. And yet still, he can't find it in himself to speak. In those cases, if he needs to explain something complicated, he can write it down. He's gotten a lot better! And if he ever trips up, he can always look it up or use autocorrect if it's over text.

Another thing his trama definitely made a lot worse is that he has episodes of hypersensitivity. An analogy I once heard is that most minds are like doors, and most people can choose to shut the door on small pieces of information that are deemed unnecessary. Like the ticking of a clock, or the scratching of pencils around a classroom. But people with adhd can’t choose to closes those doors, and the flood of information can easily overstimulate us. With his super hearing this definitely becomes a problem, and I can only imagine it gets worse when in crowds. I actually already talked about this, with bad textures. Often we can ignore the extra sensory input and go on with our day, but when faced with something that agitates us, it opens the floodgates to make everything agitate us. The sounds of dinner don't usually annoy Danny, but with the extra bad sensory input that he just couldn't ignore, it made it so he couldn't ignore other pieces of input like usual, and it became too much for him. I usually counteract overstimulation by wearing headphones or earbuds, and while I know Danny definitely has noise canceling devices made for the supers with him 24/7 just in case, I think he deals with it, again, by controlling the texture of the cloths he’s wearing and using it to fidget. He counteracts the negative input by surrounding himself with positive input. If he's not in public or that doesnt work, he’ll curl up into himself and rock back and forth, countering the input with a soothing motion and clenching onto his skin like a stress ball. Of course, that's if Cujo, his service dog, isn't there to help him through it.

One thing that carries over into the future is his short attention span. curse you ADHD! He has trouble sitting still and concentrating on a task that doesn't interest him. However he still LOVES space, and often hyperfixates on it. He’ll sit in front of the tv or a tablet and watch documentaries for hours without moving an inch. The first time this happened the batfam where scared something was wrong, maybe he's having an episode and can't move? But when they approached him to see if he was alright he started wildly flapping his arms and letting out excited chirps, till he noticed the look on their face and got out his phone. An hour later he sent them a poorly written, excited and long text about his favorite star in the galaxy to the family group chat. Suffice it to say, space is his special interest. Since then they started using it as a way to get him to sit still or to distract him. Often it helps to play a documentary in the background while he does a task that doesn't interest him so he won't get so bored he up and leaves.

Last but not least, he has trouble understanding social cues. This is absolutely not helped by how sheltered he is in the social department. Danny's part ghost, and ghosts don’t really lie. It's just not a thing they do. They are loud and honest with their intentions, no beating around the bush. Danny just doesn't understand why people aren't straightforward as well. Danny is very honest and says exactly what he means. I always find this ironic when reading the actual story, that the one person in the family (minus Alfred) that's good at communicating can't talk. This is something that becomes an issue with Bruce and his habit of not using his words to talk. I'd like to imagine that, in trying to set a good example for his youngest son yet, he’d realize the importance of communication, and how he communicates.

You could argue that a lot of these traits come from his trauma, and you're absolutely right. It definitely contributes to making some of these traits a lot stronger than before in this au as well. However, I don't want to just make it all a trauma response because then it sort of implies something is… wrong with him. That there's something to fix. And I don't want him to be treated like that. There's nothing wrong with him liking hoodies. There's nothing wrong with him not wanting to talk. There's nothing wrong with him loving space so much. Those are just a part of who he is. Everyone has quirks, and those are his. I don't want the batfamily to obsess with fixing him, or try to make him “normal.” I want them to accommodate his needs like they do for everyone else in the family. I want them to accept him, and his flaws, like a normal person. Not look at him like he's broken. After everything, he deserves a family who accepts him, chirps and all.

Tldr of the last paragraph: making everything a trama thing makes people sad and want to help “fix” him instead of treating him like a normal person. I aint having that in my au so even if he wasn't hurt the way he was, he would still act like this. There's nothing wrong with Danny, he just needs to be accommodated for and treated like a normal person.

Bonus: close up and flat colors (idk if you can even see them but I am way more proud of those eyelashes than I have any right to be)

[britt-kageryuu]

A bit of a content warning! Mentions of Blood, mentions of dismemberment(I think), not sure what else, but Mikey is wielding a knife. He's Cooking!

(I for a very silly reason want to say this ain't very Vegan Friendly, but that's just a weird part of my humor coming through. Let me know if I should get rid of this weird joke of a content warning!)

Mikey is doing another cooking show stream, though he switched somethings up. He's showing off some skills he learned from the high level cooking classes he took recently. And not just the new gadgets and tools he added to his kitchen.

Like he's butchering the skinned, blooded(drained the blood), body of a deer during the stream. He explained that there had been a bit of an accident when they went to visit a friend of theirs that lived out in the woods. "Todd is a total sweetheart! He runs a puppy sanctuary, makes some of the best lemonade, and he's an amazing blacksmith!"

Mikey had already removed the organs, legs and head by this point. And he was separating the main part of the rib area. All while telling random anecdotes.

"I remember hearing those jokes about people hiding weird stuff in their recipe stories, because most people never read that part. And it just made me think how weird it would be to just drop, 'My Dad was trapped in a highly toxic relationship for like 10 years, but during that time he learned the recipe for the best dumplings ever, and here it is!'." Mikey says this with such a upbeat tone, while holding the knife close to his face 'cutely', "But this could only work with like 3 recipes that my Dad taught me. Though I think one of those was from one of the assistants that worked for Barry. Who Dad meet briefly after escaping from his Ex-Fiance."

Mikey paused to chop harshly through a tough connection point.

"Hmm. I think I need to sharpen my knives, I should've been much farther in this than I am." He holds the knife at an angle to look at the blades edge. "Give me a sec, chat!"

Mikey puts the knife down, and goes to a draw, and searches for a moment before coming back with a stone.

"For those who don't know what this is. It's a whetstone, which is traditionally used in blade sharpening. Let me demonstrate by sharpening this knife!"

The audience is not very sure how to handle parts of this stream. Some are fascinated, others are confused, while some feel a bit concerned.

Mikey then demonstrates the now sharp knife by chopping right through a bone section.

"Well, that's more than I expected, but it will definitely get the job done!" Mikey chirps out, "I wonder what else this could cut through? Well I can't test that right now, especially if I want to get around to cooking something today."

He goes back to cutting apart the different sections that were still together.

"Also, I swear the most delicious thing I've ever had, was sadly also poisonous. Not really in a 'this will kill me' way, but a 'I felt boneless for 6 hours' kinda way. And I was forbidden from trying to get the recipe!" Mikey rants with a slight glare off to the side.

Now the audience is even more conflicted, and concerned.

Someone in the chat brings up that Mikey has a Psychology Degree, and some people start to wonder if Mikey is just messing with them or not.

-----------------

Masterpost

I honestly wrote this because of that 'Hide dark stuff in the recipe story' joke. And the idea of Mikey telling one while cutting apart a carcass or something.

[manias-wordcount]

Futaba, Ann, and Makoto with a S/O who is the Phantom Thieves trump card, despite not really being the sharpest tool in the shed, their incredible physical and athletic abilities as well as bulky build make up for TREMENDOUSLY, but they can be extremely reckless and wild to the point where they don't listen to common sense or orders, like when there is a something blocking their way that is very dangerous when in physical contact they just go: "Don't matter how dangerous somethin' is if ya punch it hard enough!" and just combos the thing to pieces with a flurry of punches with a wide sharp toothed grin on their face, like their a shark in a saturday morning cartoon. And despite their large build and muscles they're sweeter than sugar.

(Plus they just wanna earn praise from the people around them and impress the girls) Pls, thank ya, and have a nice day. :)

S/o who is Dumb and Buff HCs ( Futaba Sakura, Ann Takamaki, Makoto Nijima)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺! 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 :)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Futaba Sakura

She loves a lot about you

Truly she does…….but…..

Doesn’t love how she can’t hold a conversation with you about things that aren’t surface-level

That being said, she does love nicknaming you all her favorite no-brains all brawns anime and video game characters

And she probably eggs you on when you’re about to do something stupid and dangerous in the metaverse or a palace

(Much to everyone’s displeasure)

But she does know something is way too far and she’ll be the first one to frantically ask if you’re alright and scan you for injuries

She’s also going to be the first one to try to study your brain and body structure because how did you not die from doing whatever crazy thing you just did?

Truthfully, you both are a really really odd pair

But you adore each other so hey- it works

Ann Takamaki

She’s your biggest fan and biggest cheerleader

She’s definitely smarter than you but chances are, you guys are on the same wavelength most of the anyways

So you both get along very well

Especially because you always like being in her good graces and always want her attention and affectio haha

When you’re doing something dumb in the metaverse or a palace, she’s probably right behind you about to join in

Your energy and your spirit definitely gets her fired up!

She does worry about you when you’re about to take on a task it doesn’t look like a single person can handle on their own

But she knows better than to doubt you

Because for some reason you always make it out okay!

And always with a smile too!

Makoto Nijima

Polar opposites

Like it’s a miracle you two are even attracted to each other let alone a couple

But she does love you……………..BUT

You not being the smartest does 

Partly because she’s definitely the type who wants to sit down and have a deep, thoughtful discussion and she can’t exactly do that with you

But mainly because you constantly get yourself into unnecessary danger and drama that she knows could be perfectly avoidable or might have a better way of solving it

Again, she loves you but something you are way more trouble for her than what’s honestly worth it

Likely story, if you don’t start learning some forethought and learn how to use your brain instead of rushing into everything, this relationship won’t last forever

But while you’re still together, carrying the hearts and hopes of the team on your back, she’ll still love, admire, and worry about you

But she’ll probably have to ask herself everyday if raising her blood pressure like this is even worth it LOL

[girl-next-door-writes]

Loki @savvy-devine666

B: Best Friend and J: Jealousy

B: Best Friend; What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

There is no doubt that this friendship would be rather complex. I mean, he is the God of Mischief, so there will be chaos and crazy schemes. Definitely never a dull moment.

Best Friend Loki would be incredibly loyal, in his own way. He does have moments where his self-serving tendencies come through, but when it comes down to it, he will be there for you when it truly matters.

He is intelligent, witty and resourceful... which can be a good or bad thing depending on the situation. Face it, these are the reasons you find yourself in trouble, but they are also the reasons you escape.

Your friendship is definitely not all plain sailing. The boy has major trust issues, and manipulation is his default setting thanks to eons of conditioning. It will take time for him to really believe you are on his side, and you will have to be aware of those times he uses that charm of his to get you to do what he wants, even if it might not be in your best interest.

Being best friends with Loki would be a rollercoaster ride full of thrills, intellectual stimulation, and occasional peril. If you enjoy adventure, can handle unpredictability, and have a strong sense of self, Loki could be a fascinating, if challenging, best friend.

The two of you met under stressful circumstances. You were both pursuing a rare magical artifact, one neither of you could acquire alone. You impressed him with your knowledge of ancient spells and artifacts, showcasing your intelligence and shared interest, something he found suspicious at first, but came to appreciate. Along the journey, you engage in witty banter, solve puzzles together, and face dangers side by side, proving your loyalty and resourcefulness when you had the opportunity to get away with the artifact and leave him in danger, but you put your own life in danger ensuring that you both got out.

When the time came to part ways, Loki found himself reluctant to leave your company, suggesting another artifact the two of you could 'liberate'.

J: Jealousy; How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?

Loki's jealousy often stems from feelings of inadequacy, a desire for recognition, and the belief that he deserves more than he receives. It can be intense and multifaceted, and in some cases understandable. His upbringing has a huge part to play in these feelings.

Manipulation is his 'go to' tool, and when he is jealous he will use this to undermine the object of his jealousy, even and especially when it comes to his brother.

If that doesn't work then there will be emotional outbursts, and whoever is close by will receive the sharp end of his tongue. This is often combined with isolation and brooding as he fixates on whatever injustice he has perceived.

If you make the rookie mistake of complimenting Thor then Loki will do whatever he can to show you how deficient his brother truly is. He will use his charm and deceit to drive a wedge between the two of you, or anyone else he perceives as a threat to his relationship with your.

Dealing with Loki's jealousy requires patience, understanding and a strategic approach.

You may spend quite a large time reassuring him and stroking his ego. Although, if you are not being completely honest with him he will know and it will undermine everything you are doing. Your actions and words must line up, so involving him in your successes and making him feel like a valued part of your life will go a long way.

This does not mean you should play down yours, or others, achievements. You will need to address his jealous behaviour and set clear boundaries to prevent incidents such as him transforming into someone else in order to play you off against others. Be firm and fair as you enforce boundaries and, with time and patience, he will learn.

[iwoszareba]

truthbound

Knave/Socothbenoth

cw: questionable use of trickster powers of mind altering variety. (if i'm allowed VtM terms something like incomplete blood bond level of problematic.) also this is love-hate, awful, evil people ship

Socothbenoth's first dialogue was taken directly from the game

_ _ _

'Satisfaction' could not begin to describe how Socothbenoth felt. How can you properly put into words the pure euphoria of seeing your plans, that were years in the making, finally come to fruition?

The look of defeat on Nocticula's face will warm his heart for decades to come. To think that all it took was the right person at the right time for everything to fall into place. That and his invaluable guidance, of course. Helping to make the Crusade a spectacle of madness was an enjoyable diversion but there was nothing more he could gain from it.

"Well, now that everything is decided... I will bid you farewell, Knave. It is time for me to look for a new frien... I mean, someone new and exciting... Someone I can lead astray. I will convince them to join the glorious ranks of fools, jesters, and lovers of funny and vulgar stories! It's been a pleasure! I know you'll miss me!"

That's what he needed: a fresh start. But for now he could just kick back and bask in the afterglow of his accomplishments until it's time to set more goals or readjust the old ones.

"Don't you want to ask if I have a parting gift for you?"

He was already reaching for the door handle but that question stopped him in his tracks. He could just leave. He should just leave. But after all the crazy things this Knave-Commander pulled off… he couldn't deny curiosity. He turned around.

"You got me something? Darling, you shouldn't have. Getting to see you grow from a confused, bloodthirsty puppy, into a distinguished creature of chaos was a gift enough."

He expected to see him as usual: all smiles, craving any scrap of his attention, practically begging. Instead Knave looked at him with an unreadable expression, head slightly tilted as if considering. Somehow that was more concerning than any of his touch too wide grins. Curiosity wasn't worth this.

"Really it's fine… just send whatever it is via messenger, maybe that mangy thief of yours can drop it off at my place when he comes to the Abyss."

He grabbed the handle and pushed but his relief was disturbed by the sharp, electric sound of magic. As he took one step through the doors, a portal brought him face to face with the Commander once again.

"I can't believe you thought you could just leave without my say-so. I would take offence at the rudeness if it wasn't so adorable."

This was not how Socothbenoth imagined this goodbye. Maybe he miscalculated, maybe he shouldn't have implied earlier that they probably will never meet again. He often forgot that some people can get attached so easily. No matter, he can play along for a while more.

"Can you blame me? I am a busy man. Especially now, when you helped to create so many new opportunities for me. Something I'll always be grateful for."

"Tsk tsk, tsk. Liar, liar pants on fire. Do you ever get tired of your own bullshit?"

Socothbenoth opened his mouth but before he could find words to rebuke such insolence Knave continued his little tirade.

"I wonder if there is a single person you have ever been truly loyal to? I doubt you see anyone in your congregation as worthy enough, your lovers are tools to be kept or discarded, the Council was always a sham… you couldn't even keep a semi-decent relation with your own sister."

Mentioning Nocticula in such fashion was a step too far and even now it made Socothbenoth wince. He gritted his teeth and tried not to snarl his next words, but they still came out as an angry hiss.

"Is there a point to this?"

There was a level of smugness to Knave that only people who delight in hitting a nerve can display. Normally an attractive trait, not so much right now.

"I know such things are not in your nature and I don't blame you for that but… I admit it does make me curious. What would happen if I took all the honeyed words you fed me and made them true? Wouldn't that be refreshing? The sense that you said something and actually meant it."

Was that something he could do? Of course Socothbenoth heard the stories of Knave's exploits in Alushinyrra. Changing someone's form was not far from fleshwarping the demon lord would perform himself or teach to his faithful, but while similar in effect, Commander's powers seemed to work under a completely different paradigm. And physical matter still was nothing compared to something as intangible as 'the truth'.

"We can just talk about thi-"

Something deep inside him hummed, as if his very essence started to slightly vibrate awaiting what is going to happen to it next.

"You already talked plenty enough. Mmm what lies have you uttered... Maybe when you said you've been looking for someone exactly like me all these years?"

He was standing still but the sensation escalated to scraping at the back of his skull and squirming inside his chest. Impatient search for remembrance followed by a swift judgement.

"That was the truth! It's not my fault the meaning wasn't quite what you desired."

Knave nodded despite not looking convinced.

"I see, then what about those times you called me special… captivating… irreplaceable?"

The last word was the one that fully did the trick and started to ring at Socothbenoth's core with near-painful veracity. He felt feverish, as if his body was fighting to reject this foreign element, something so at odds with his demonic nature. But it was too late, this… connection has already taken root, strong and true, but twisted by the environment it found itself in. Addictive in its cravings and covetous in its devotion. Socothbenoth started to laugh hard enough that tar-like tears formed in the corners of his black eyes.

"What's so funny to you?"

The look of smug satisfaction on Knave's face was first replaced by confusion and then visible distress. He grabbed his chest as if to check the sensations there. Despite everything Socothbenoth couldn't help but delight in having the upper hand again.

"Oh, I just remembered something else I've said: we were made for each other, you were made for me."

Knave blinked in surprise.

"What? I don't recall anything like that."

Socothbenoth smiled lecherously, closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Knave's waist bringing their bodies together.

"At the time I had you so deep in the throes of passion, no wonder you were a little… distracted."

"...You are lying."

It sounded as half-hearted bargaining of someone not ready to accept the reality.

"Does it feel like a lie?"

Knave was biting his bottom lip in frustration, quite a tantalising sight.

"No. I guess I made sure of that."

It was easy to expect this sentence to be punctuated with an angry groan but what followed instead was a soft rumble of laughter. Knave's next words were barely a whisper.

"It is kind of funny, when you start to think about it."

That was not really the word Socothbenoth would use to describe their situation, but if comedy is in the unexpected… he had to admit that in his long life as a demon lord he has never felt… this, whatever it was. They stood for a while in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, still wrapped in an embrace. Neither seemed willing to release the other but Knave was first to break the strange tranquillity of the moment.

"I still hate you, you know." 

Demon lord faux gasped.

"Shouldn't it be 'I love you more than anything else in this world'?" 

There was a pause for struggle between admission and denial.

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

The amount of vitriol in his voice was delightful. The Commander was way more exciting like this compared to when he was acting all star-struck.

"I just thought you would be all pliant now."

He purred trying to rile him up more but instead Knave furrowed his eyebrows in consideration.

"I don't… fully understand what I did but I'm fairly sure it's not a compulsion nor geas. I don't have to do anything. And neither do you. If you wish, you are free to leave."

He waved his hand around in a specific but messy gesture and Socothbenoth could tell that the portal in the doors behind them deactivated. Which was a sweet sentiment but he was no longer in a hurry.

"I am a busy man but I may have another moment to spare. Other jesters and madmen will have to wait another day…"

He pulled Knave into a kiss that felt hungry to the point where it made him consider a crazy notion, that perhaps the two of them exchanged a fraction of their souls and would have to tear each other open if they wanted to get them back.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

You know, I’ve been using plenty of Greek monsters lately for asks, let’s switch to the Norse! (PS you are amazing with the responses)

Fafnir was once a dwarf whose father was a famous sort of dwarven king or blacksmith I’m not entirely certain but that’s not the important part

Fafnir had this brother who could transform into an otter, who was killed and skinned by three of the Aesir gods, Odin, Loki, and Honir

They presented the pelt to the father who immediately knew and imprisoned Odin and Honir for the transgression and tasked Loki that the only way to make up for it is to find enough treasure to fill the pelt with

Loki being Loki fills it with cursed treasure and after the three gods left Fafnir was driven mad by the treasure and killed his own father for the treasure and fled into the woods where he guarded it jealously, the curse whispering in his ear that his last remaining brother (although in some interpretations Odin was the one who gave the gold)

The curse twisted and transformed Fafnir into a fearsome dragon and he hoarded the treasure until he was killed by Siegfried (Also known as Sigurd)

Now In Valhalla and freed from the madness of the curse and has the ability to transform between his dwarf and dragon form and he wants revenge against the god who gave the cursed treasure that turned him mad

It can be Loki or Odin but he fights one of them

My request is what is Fafnir! Reader’s relationship with the Valkyries (especially Brunhilde), the Einherjar and what his fight with either Loki or Odin is like

-It had been so long, so many years since you had been able to think so clearly, the curses that had befallen you no longer affecting your mind.

-Now in Valhalla, you could easily look at gold or other items that would be considered ‘treasure’ and just walk away from it, no longer trying to maim others to get it, to hoard it for your own.

-The only thing that did stay was your much taller side, as you were able to turn into a dragon at will. You were relieved and happy to be able to return to your original form as a dwarf, but there has been a few times when you needed to put some cocky gods and humans both, in their place.

-What better way than for them to be looking up at a dragon with rows of razor-sharp teeth, huge claws, and the ability to breathe fire.

-You took up blacksmithing, creating not only weapons but armor as well, to honor your father, as way to beg for his forgiveness for killing him so long ago, even if you weren’t in the right state of mind.

-Your skills grew and soon your works were highly prized around Valhalla, those who would use weapons wanted yours specifically, as the craftsmanship in your work was rarely rivaled.

-The valkyries were your most frequent customers, but you were happy to help them, making them new armor, new weapons, and new tools, and as they didn’t go gentle, training hard, they were the best ones to get feedback from on what to do better next time.

-The younger valkyries didn’t come to you as often for weapons, as they didn’t train or fight like the older ones, but they still came to you, to watch you work, asking you all sorts of questions.

-It was the older valkyries that you did the most business with, Thrud and Brunnhilde the most, as they were the strongest of the bunch, Thrud definitely, you were making her a new weapon almost every other week, mainly for her to try.

-It wasn’t that your work was weak, your weapons were the strongest in Valhalla, but when training, Thrud never held back, to train herself even more, and even the strongest of your weapons couldn’t handle the amount of abuse she put them under.

-Brunnhilde was very respectful of you, as she knew your legend, how you killed your father after your brother was killed and you were cursed by Loki from the cursed treasure, turning into a dragon, and then later killed by Siegfried.

-She respected your hard work and respected that you were willing to do business with them and many of the other Norse gods.

-You didn’t mind, you had no issues with any of them, the only ones you had issues with were Loki, Odin, and Honir, who killed and disrespected your brother and your father, then drove you to madness.

-You refused to do business for them, something that angered them greatly, but they held no power over your skills, over you, not anymore.

-Brunnhilde approached you when Ragnarok was announced and you couldn’t help but beam, asking her what kind of weapons she wanted, and she surprised you by speaking, “I want you to fight.”

-You were a warrior, that much was true, but knew there were many other warriors, ones who were far stronger than you, until she said that both Loki and Odin were going to fight.

-You had hesitated, not really sure if you wanted revenge, but the more you thought about it, the more you desired to make them pay for their actions.

-Brunnhilde gave you the choice of your opponent, as you were fighting for her, for humanity, and it was back and forth for a moment before you made you decision, you wanted to fight Loki.

-The other Einherjar were impressed with your skills, making weapons for those who wanted them, like Jack who was amazed by the quality, and Kojiro was in awe as he inspected the katana you had made, which you found enjoyable.

-You knew the valkyries were going to be forming with the humans to make Holy Weapons, so many didn’t need on, which you weren’t bothered by.

-You were the only one to refuse a Völundr, since you were half dragon, you were considered a demi-god, and thus you were able to take care of business yourself.

-When you walked out, holding a two-handed axe over your shoulder, Loki snickered, seeing you there, thinking it was a joke, “Oh~ are you here to get revenge little dwarf~?”

-Your eyes flashed at his tease as the match started and you grinned darkly, shifting into your dragon form, “WHAT DO YOU THINK?!”

-Jaws were dropped, seeing you turn into a dragon, some thought it would damn you, as you couldn’t move fast, being so large, but you quickly proved them wrong, easily dodging Loki’s attacks.

-You slammed him down with your tail before you shifted back, holding your axe, glaring down at him, “If you had not been deceitful, trickster, and did as my father had asked, you may have faced a different opponent, one that you could have won against.”

-You gave him a quick death, separating his head from his shoulders before you walked out, grinning as the cheers were deafening around you.

-You felt lighter now, like you had honored your brother and father, some of your guilt vanishing.

-You returned to your forge to continue making your goods, relaxing as you smiled into the flames, finally feeling peace.

[cutekittenlady]

I think Ingo showing up when he does really saves Eelektross.

Like at this point in the concept Eelektross has been muzzled, collared, and caged by people who are both terrified of him and know nothing about him. Especially not his needs. So he ends up with food he doesn't like or even can't eat. Water in a recepticle he can't use, and trapped in a dry place with no place to moisturize his skin.

Being a smart, modern day, electric land eel, he's able escape but is very weakened and dried out. He's able to moisturize in the stream that runs through the village, but it's not long til it's discovered he's escaped and the whole village is put on lockdown.

Hungry, tired, scared, cornered, maybe even injured, Eelektross finally starts going feral.

He's been fighting it the whole time he's been in Hisui. But having all his attempts to make peace thrown in his face, being treated like a monster, and having no comfort of knowing where his trainer is and having no ally whos strong enough to protect him he starts hissing and lashing out more at the people hunting him.

But they keep chasing. And chasing. And chasing.

Hes nearly to the point of letting out a massive fully powered discharge in the middle of town!

Then Ingo arrives and takes charge. Eelektross has managed to hide in the stream. Maybe under the bridge? Meanwhile Ingos loud voice is able to attract attention helping the galaxy Team get things more organized and stop the rabid hunt.

There are still people watching along the stream, waiting to see if eelektross emerges and raise the alarm, but they're not jabbing in sharp farm tools to drive him out or anything.

Ingo, known as one of the only trainers to tame an alpha, wants to give handling eelektross a go. Kamado is hesitant to agree given that Akari has already tried and failed to capture it and he's been given to understand from Laventon that the creature can't be caught with a pokeball. However, the warden still wants to give it a try as there's a chance it could pose a risk to the Pearl Clan if left alone, and given it's an unknown species there's little to show what would happen if any of the villagers actually hurt it. For all they know it could blow up the whole village like a voltorb!

Eventually, with Laventon's help, they're able to draw Eelektross out from under the bridge with food he'd actually like to eat and up the small stream and into the training grounds. It's there that he winds up cornered in the walls of the training grounds by the Security and Survey Corps. Electricity zapping off him in fear and stress.

That's when Ingo jumps him. He has Gliscor (immune to electric) hold Eelektross down as he orders Probopass to use Earth Power (super effective) on the clear electric type. Hoping to distract him before having Tangrowth try and put him asleep with sleep power. (Neutralize the threat)

He's shocked when Eelektross manages to draw no damage from the attack (levitation FTW) and actually dodges Tangrowth's sleep powder.

That's when Eelektross's training really kicks in.

Eelekross might be used to having a partner in multi-battles, but he knows how to fight multiple opponenets. It helps that Ingo's pokemon were trained with a similar method Eelektross was.

All the same he manages to knock Gliscor off and knock over Tangrowth before turning on Magnezone.

Ingo's legitimately startled. Most wild pokemon he fights tend to focus on a singular opponent, but this ones strategically picking out opponents based on his perception of their threat. Plus, yknow, he's a levitating eel monster.

He gives the group orders as best he can. Following Eelektross beat for beat with neither really overcoming the other.

Eventually though, Eelektross winds up breaking the rules.

The first time he's ever done it.

And turns on the one giving the orders.

He's jumped on him before he really recognizes him, which is good because he was about the shoot a massive Discharge and, hopefully, knock out the trainer so the pokemon would get confused giving him an opportunity to escape.

But then he sees his face.

All of this happens in a few seconds and the moment Ingo is tackled everyone is ready to attack the 'monster' that seems to be mauling Ingo. But when they get there, pokemon at the ready and sharp implements raised Ingo tells them to STOP.

And they all look down to see Eelektross's floppy eel arms around Ingo in a hug, sucking on his face, and crying uncontrollably.

Feel free to send an Ask

[seetangus]

Claws - Azula x gn reader - part 1

Part 2: here [main masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, tw: Slight violence (a punch resulting in a bleeing nose), that's it

Also thank you to that friend with no tumblr account for coming up with the title (:

3.461 words, english isn't my first language so please forgive me for any mistakes there might be :)

The noise of the festivities on the main streets could be heard even in your chamber, making it hard for you to concentrate on your work. You had thought about going to the event happening outside too, especially as there were rumors of royalty being in town, but finishing the report Admiral Zhao had ordered was more important. You had written the tale of this particular battle more times than you could count, as it was one of the greatest victories the admiral ever achieved, the calligraphic and rhetorical skill always exceeding the previous one. High ranking officers often hired you to write of their victories as you never failed to describe their genius and the greatness of the fire nation to its full extent.

Altough you had only started writing a few years ago you had made yourself a name amongst the calligraphers of the fire nation, and it would be a shame to let your reputation be tainted by an order not delivered on time, wouldn't it? You could enjoy the festival later anyways, there was no rush.

But suddenly there was another sound. It didn't come from outside but from within your walls, no doubt. You put your writing tool back into the ink pot and headed to the main room of your workplace. Could it be that you had forgotten to close the library before you had started writing? No, the door was locked, so no one was inside. But what could have made such a sound? It almost sounded like footsteps. You decided to check the shelves, maybe a parchment roll had fallen out, although you would be greatly surprised if it was the case, as it had never happened before.

Before you were able to check anything, you saw an animal appearing behind a shelf. It was a lemur-like creature, you had seen it before in one of the books about animal life in the air temples… wait - the air temples? What did such a creature do here in the fire nation and how did it even get inside your library? You tried getting closer to the animal, in hopes of being able to catch it before it could cause any harm to the old parchments that were stored here. But just as you were about to reach the surprisingly calm creature you were greeted by a boy with arrow-like tattoos on his body, holding two of your most important scrolls on bending, awkwardly smiling and obviously trying to make up an excuse for his presence. You had not even started to think about how he had gotten inside when you saw the window behind him being wide open. You were sure it had been closed when you had last left this room, so he was a proper housebreaker, although he didn't seem too dangerous. As there had never been any burglaries in your house before you were unsure of how to act, but one thing was for sure, you were getting those scrolls back. You decided to give him a chance before calling the guards: "Put those back.". You were impressed at how sharp your voice sounded after hours of silence.

The boy grabbed a long stick as if to defend himself with it, and that was the moment when it hit you. He was the one you had seen on the posters from the government, he was the avatar. Suddenly you were overwhelmed by fear, not for your life, but for your library; one could not know how much damage he was able to cause, how many books could be lost. That did not change your way of handling the situation, though. You were not about to let an enemy of the fire nation steal from your possessions, not without trying to stop him, no matter how powerful.

You stretched out your hand, obviously waiting for him to hand you the scrolls. For a few seconds you waited, but just as you were about to say something again you noticed the avatar grinning at something behind you, accompanied by the sound of footsteps from where he was looking. You turned around only for your face to be met by the fist of another, slightly older boy.

The power of the blow was enough to let you sink to the ground immediately. You needed a few moments to recover; enough time for both boys and a girl that had just now appeared behind another shelf to run towards the window and begin crawling out of it. When you stood up again you didn't even bother chasing them and ran to the door instead, ignoring your bleeding nose. You opened it and screamed for the guards, telling everyone that could hear you that the avatar was here. You saw the guards at the end of the street running in your direction before you could even get started to scream about the theft.

There was someone who looked familiar leading the guards, but before you could make out who it was, you realised something. Since the window the three kids escaped through was leading to your backyard, the street you stood on was their only escape route, and if they reached the next crossing before the guards arrived, they might get away. The only thing standing between them and their escape was you.

For a moment you froze, not daring to imagine what they would do to you if you tried fighting against them, but on the other hand you couldn't simply let them pass you, not with the guards watching you. Your honor was at stake!

So you turned to face the three kids, swallowing thickly. The only hope you had was the sound of the arriving guards from behind you.

The avatar boy noticed your intention and didn't waste any time directing a massive blow of wind in your direction. You gripped onto the door handle to not be blown away entirely, your hand hurting from how tight you clenched the metal. To your surprise you were still standing, but that would not be enough to hold off the avatar, so you focused on anything that could motivate you.

You thought of the fights you had been observing and writing about; there were always soldiers, simple humans facing off against benders, a single one of them strong enough to take on a whole army, but yet the soldiers did not falter and stood against them with nothing but their will to fight for the greater good!

It was a pathetic thought you could achieve anything by doing the same, really, but what choice did you have?

When they finally reached you, you threw your body against the boy that had hit you, because he was carrying the scrolls you needed to protect. He dodged you with ease, letting you run into the air behind him. That was enough. You were not going to let him embarrass you like that with the guards watching. With a terrifying scream that probably scared you as much as the boy, you turned around, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling as hard as you could to make him fall. It didn't quite work because he hit you again, resulting in you letting him go, but he dropped the scrolls, so it was worth it.

With the scrolls now returned and the kids having taken the next turn, the guards close behind, you finally were able to relax. You hadn't even realised how exhausted you were.

You picked the scrolls up and leaned against the nearest wall, holding your nose to stop the bleeding. You closed your eyes and tried to think about everything that had happened. A task that proved to be very difficult, especially with the noise of the festivities everywhere.

After what felt like a few minutes, you heard a voice again, speaking directly to you: "Let's have a look at what the ever so great Avatar was so interested in, shall we." Curious to whom that beautiful voice belonged to you opened your eyes, and they soon grew wide in shock. Before you stood the person that had led the guards, the person that looked familiar because you had seen her in various pictures before. Princess Azula. You bowed as deep as your hurting body allowed and extended your arms to hand her the scrolls the thieves wanted to steal. "It is an honor, my princess." You didn't know what else to say. You could hear a smile in her voice when she spoke to you again: "You may rise now, and show your princess the contents of those parchments."

Embarrassed that you had held the scrolls in a way as if she was to take them in her royal hands you didn't dare wasting any time and opened the first scroll, nervously avoiding her gaze.

When she lowered her eyes to study the scroll, you dared looking at her. you almost fainted at her looks; she was far more beautiful in person than in any depiction you had seen.

"Bending scrolls," Azula noticed, "pathetic. The Avatar can't even handle the basics of bending without having to steal instructions." To you it seemed a bit weird that it was pathetic; you had never seen a bender master his element without some kind of instruction, but at the moment you were simply grateful to hear Azula's voice.

She looked straight at your face before you could move your eyes away, spreading a slight blush on your face. Your heart thumbed heavily; what was going on? You had met many persons of high rank before, even the brother of the firelord, General Iroh himself had honored you with his presence once, but you had never felt as nervous as now. For that short moment you had looked in her eyes it almost felt like butterflies in your stomach… but it was not the time to think about this, as Azula once again granted you the pleasure of talking to you, a curious look adorning her face: "Have we met before?"

You swallowed before answering: "I have been to the royal palace one time, to deliver the finished report of the siege of Ba-Sing-Se to the royal library. Maybe your highness was also present." You cursed yourself for being so overly specific on why you had been there and for not knowing if she had been there too. Surprisingly she answered without hesitation: "Then you must be y/n, the one who makes sure that 'the victories and history of the fire nation may never be forgotten'." Although she made you embarrassed of your dramatic marketing, your heart almost skipped a beat when she said your name. "I am deeply honored that your highness has remembered my name.", you answered truthfully.

"Well, y/n," she continued, "I must leave now, but be assured that your devotion to the fire nation and your selfless fight will not be forgotten."

You were not quite sure to what degree this was sarcasm, but you appreciated the compliment nonetheless. You bowed lower than ever before and only began to rise when you heard her turning away. You looked after her for as long as she was visible. Finally, after the last of the city guards escorting her had gone out of sight, you turned away and went inside to finish the text for Admiral Zhao. And to close the window. When you had finished that, you would take the rest of the day off. You had already done more than enough today.

< • ◇ • >

You enjoyed the silence on your way to the library. After all the action that had taken place yesterday you didn't mind the festival being over at all. Well actually, you did. Maybe it had been noisy, but at least you could keep the library closed. Normally you were happy to welcome people who wanted to read, but today you just needed some rest. Sadly, that was not a valid reason to close the library, as you did not suffer from any serious injury or disease.

You sighed, arriving at your workplace. Although you could not deny being proud of yourself for your short intervention yesterday, that little bit of pride was not enough to give you the motivation to work today. Maybe no one wanted to read in this town today? With little to no hope of that happening you opened the front door, only to be welcomed by emptiness. The whole building was completely empty, not even the furniture was there anymore. For a moment you thought that you might have entered the wrong house, but then your keys wouldn't have worked. You decided to go inside to search for any possible clue on what had happened. This Avatar boy couldn't have stolen literally everything from this house, could he? Unfortunately, searching for anything would be harder than you thought, as the light sources were also absent, so you needed to open the windows - something you had planned to avoid doing since the incident from yesterday.

To your surprise another kind of brightness filled the room before you could flood it with daylight. It was the flickering of blue flames. Clueless about what might be the source of that unusual light you turned to the direction from where it seemed to come, immediately bowing deeply when you realized that it was no other than Princess Azula herself, casting blue flames from her fingertips. Even though you had bowed as fast as you could, you had managed to get one quick look at her smiling face. If she was smiling, it couldn't be too bad, could it? Her smile truly was beautiful. Wait, what were you thinking? She was your princess, after all. Of course you had to find her beautiful, but not in t h a t way, right?

Once again you were interrupted by the soothing voice of hers: "You may stand now." You stood straight. You almost felt happy to do as Azula instructed, suddenly feeling the urge to always be with her to have her will fulfilled. Just now the thought crossed your mind that you might need some fresh air. "Do not fear for your belongings, y/n." You felt your heart beat faster when she said your name. "They have not been stolen, they have merely been moved to a place that is worthy of their presence… a place that would be a more appropriate environment for you too." You swallowed, excitement and hope suddenly filling your thoughts. "Like I said, your devotion to the course of the fire nation and your courage have not been forgotten, and we have come to make the decision that the royal palace will fit your noble nature better than this provincial town." Her smug smile almost turned to a grin while she watched you struggle for words, looking at her in disbelief and trying to comprehend what she just said. What could you possibly do to repay her for this? You roughly knew what the royal librarians got paid, and everyone else who knew would have reacted just like you. But for you the most important part was how she spoke of you. Surely much of it was courtesy and even to you some parts sounded a bit silly, but still you would never have imagined to receive such compliments from the Princess, especially after you had seen how perfect she was herself. If you wouldn't have k n o w n the only reason for your nervousness was her high status, you would have thought she flustered you simply by speaking to you.

Since you couldn't think of anything elegant to answer and you did not dare being silent for too long you got straight to the point, your voice almost trembling from excitement: "My gratitude cannot be put into words. How am I to ever repay your highness for this act of kindness?"

She clearly liked how submissive you acted around her as much as she enjoyed you being obviously flustered from the way she treated you.

"Oh, your loyalty is all I could ask for as a compensation for that little favour, y/n. You will fulfill that wish of mine, won't you?" She said your name again. And why did she formulate it this way? She had to be doing this on purpose!

At least it was easier to find an answer to this than before. "My loyalty will be yours forever." It felt unfitting to say it like this. It almost sounded like something you'd say in a marriage. Actually, it didn't - but to you it felt like it.

To your relief Azula seemed to be more than happy with your answer, telling you to follow her outside, not missing the opportunity to call you by your name.

You would have liked to open the door for her, but as you watched how confidently she marched ahead, you quietly decided it would be best not to interfere with her path. You felt a bit relieved when she looked away from you. This much eye contact had made your knees go a bit weak. The last time you had felt like this had been when you had been crushing on a young saleswoman from the market, and feeling the same way for someone like Azula was usually not good. Surely you were just overwhelmed - those feelings, if they even were any, would pass soon. To your surprise she was the one now holding the door opened for you to walk through. Having the door held open by the princess of the fire nation truly was not something everyone could claim of themselves. You slipped by as fast as you could and attempted a small bow on the way to express your gratitude, but it turned out more like a nod. Good enough, she would probably get the message. Outside there was a luxurious carriage waiting for you. "We are leaving now, y/n.", Azula explained. "Since I don't expect you to be able to ride Komodo Rhinos I thought you would appreciate taking the more comfortable way to the capital - this coach will transport us to an airship just outside the town." You liked the 'us'-part. Before you could even open your mouth to answer, Azula already continued talking: "The private belongings from your house are being packed as we speak." You said something to signalise that you understood. Right when she began walking to the carriage you sprinted past her, opening the door and bowing like any good servant would. You were no servant, though, so your small but eager attempt at pleasing her made her grin. "It is nice to have finally found someone who knows how to treat their princess, unlike the others." At this point you truly did not know what you had accomplished to receive this amount of compliments from Azula. "I am looking forward to having you around mineself often in the future." If you hadn't bowed down she would have seen your face turning bright red. A few moments later, when you assumed your face to have a more normal colour again, you entered the carriage too.

Inside you were met with a precarious situation; only now did you realise that you would have to sit face to face with Azula for the entire ride. You sat down opposite to her with an awkward smile, trying not to touch the decorated walls of the cart. You felt a slight shake when the carriage began driving, but the road was very even, it almost felt comfortable. You desperately tried to think of something to talk about, although you knew pretty well that you wouldn't dare being the one to speak first in her presence. Her eyes permanently lingering on you did not make the situation more pleasant either, even if you couldn't deny liking the feeling of her giving you attention. Slowly a blush creeped up your face. Finally, she began talking, but not in a way that would calm you down: "I think I don't want to sit with my back facing the front anymore, y/n." With that she stood up, walking over to your bench. At this point you couldn't imagine her not hearing your heart beat like crazy. "Give your princess some space.", she said, sitting down beside you. Even though you were pretty sure giving someone space meant something different, you happily let her take a seat next to you. You were not sure if you were going to survive the trip to the airship, or if you were going to die of a heart attack before you arrived.

Azula looked at you. She knew you were all hers, and she wouldn't let you go anytime soon.

[siriannatan]

Convex Thing - modern magic au

I recently decided to, maybe, take a different take on this AU when I have more time so here's a bit o a thing I have had in my file for ages and thought it'd be a shame if it stayed there forever.

Cub was a bit shocked when his grandmother left him her old manor. He wasn't particularly close with her, or anyone in the family for that matter. Grandma was known for being weird and her insisting she was a witch certainly didn't help. Or that Cub hasn't seen her since he was about twelve. But he did call her a few times every year. To give her holiday and birthday wishes. And send her cards for all these holidays and birthdays. Maybe his numerous cousins and siblings didn't? Maybe she just liked that he kept even that minimal contact unlike everyone else. Or maybe it was just one of Gertrude's bizarre and random decisions.

Don't take him wrong. He didn't live all that far from her and from time to time, especially as grandma got older, offered he'd come over to mow the lawn or do her shopping but grandma always insisted her helper - she hired one of those at some point, had it all handled. So Cub eventually stopped offering. He would not spend his holidays with her though. He hated celebrating holidays and would rather stay home and get some more work in. Being single and having a flexible job he could easily do that.

It took him some time to get to moving into grandma's house. He had some things to take care of at his previous place. Family to argue with - they wanted him to sell it but Cub could not. Grandma wrote in her will that he had to live there at least for five years before he could sell it or do anything else. The relator in charge of the will didn't say anything about Gran's helper when Cub asked what was a bit surprising. He wanted to thank them for helping Gran. It probably saved him a lot of time and money in driving and gas. He did not push the topic much though, he could probably find that helpers contact at the house.

Back to grandma's house. Parking by the gate Cub just remembered how big the place was. It almost seemed bigger than what he remembered from Mom forcing him and his siblings to visit all those years ago. Purely out of courtesy and she gave up around the time Cub was twelve. It was in a good state, the garden could use some attention. The helper probably didn't have much time to deal with that as Gran's health got worse. Or the fall. Cub knew absolutely nothing about gardening and now had a big garden in the back and even more greenery in the front of the house. Maybe it was normal maybe not, he didn't care all that much.

As he looked over the house from outside he could not help but notice that some upstairs windows were open. That was a bit worrying but for now, he just assumed that maybe Gran hired some people to look after the house and the five-year thing was to do with their contracts, maybe that mystery helper. That would be better than other options... But the relators didn't mention it. Maybe they thought he knew? Or maybe they didn't know? The fact that the front door was closed did not serve to calm him down in the slightest.

Yes, he could call out and get immediate information on the situation but he was no idiot. Why if it were not good people? So, being smart, Cub went silently through the house. He did not lock the door in case he had to run. He also noted that it opened inside. Not something most people paid much attention to. He went to the living room first. For potential self-defence weapons - there was a fireplace there from what he remembered and those came with tools to care for them. Like sharp pokers.

There was no one save for a sleeping, grey cat in one of the chairs. He had no idea Gran had a cat but did not mind it, he liked cats. For now, he left the cat alone in case it woke up and started making noise. He carefully grabbed one of the pokers from the stand by the fireplace instead and went to explore more. 

He didn't find anyone downstairs. He did find a locked room though and now also kept an eye out for any keys. He never faced stairs as intimidating as that day. There was a possible burglar up there, don't blame him. But with a heavy sigh and a quick reminder that the front door opened to the inside, and a squeeze of the poker, he slowly ascended the stairs. 

The first two bedrooms - his mother's and her two younger sisters - twins - old bedrooms, were empty. Only the master bedroom - his now he guessed, was the only room left.

In that room, he was faced with a shock. A tall man cleaning the room... "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?" Cub asked pointing the poker at the man.

The man spun around, a shock clear on his face. "Oh... you must be Cub," he smiled, pushing the poker away. "I'm Scar, a demon your grandmother summoned to take care of this place and you for at least..."

Cub was no longer listening after the words 'demon' and 'summoned'. Gran did say she was a witch but that was a joke... No... The guy, quite a handsome guy, suddenly had demon horns and a tail and... Cub did the most logical thing he could and fainted. There was a demon cleaning his house and he was apparently stuck with it for the next few years. What else was he supposed to do?

"Oh my," Scar sighed, after barely catching Cub. Gertrude did say magic skipped her daughters but focused strongly on her only grandson. The grandson who had no magical training and was now passed out, was in his arms. It was a while since he could feed properly... And Cub smelled so nice... "I should ask first," the demon scolded himself and instead put Cub in his new bed. Luckily he was pretty much-done cleaning. "Really, Jellie, you should have warned me," he sighed at the cat who walked in and jumped on the bed just as he was done tucking his new master in.

She only meowed at him before settling and falling asleep almost instantly. Scar sighed and said nothing more to the cat. What was he supposed to do while waiting for Cub to wake up? He probably brought some things with him. 

Whistling to himself Scar took Cub's car keys and went to bring anything he brought in and into the bedroom. Cub was unconscious for so long that he had time to hang everything and make some calming tea. And sandwiches, he was guessing Cub might be hungry after a nearly two hours long nap.

Did he hide the tail and horns? No. Cub already saw them and them being suddenly gone would only confuse him even further.

Cub woke up a bit dizzy and maybe more than slightly confused. At one moment he was looking for possible intruders in the mansion Gran left him, the next he met a pretty housekeeper... Who happened to be a demon his grandma apparently summoned to look after him and the house. At least he was handsome... Why was he so okay with a demon being in his house?

As he forced himself to face the situation and opened his eyes Cub didn't immediately see any demons. There was the cat from the living room curled up on his bed. It stared at him before running off meowing a couple of times. Was it to do with the demon... Scar...

"Feeling better?" speak of the devil, literally. Just as Cub wondered what he might be up to Scar walked in with a tray. With tea and sandwiches. A fancy tray with legs that he placed on the bed next to Cub. "I thought you might be hungry, and brought all your stuff in from your car," he grinned, pointing to where Cub guessed the closet was.

Cub was happy he didn't have to empty his car's trunk on his own but he wasn't quite sure how to feel that someone else did that for him. "How long was I out?" he asked eyeing the teas a bit suspiciously. It was probably safe to drink... If Scar wanted to hurt him he'd have a lot of chance to do so already. But instead, he tucked him in and brought his boxes up.

"Couple hours, I hope I put all your things out to good spots," the demon grinned sitting at the edge of the bed.

Blink. Blink. Scar didn't just bring his stuff up. He unpacked it. All of it... Including the embarrassing things... Like... Like... "You didn't have to..." Cub mumbled. He was sure he was blushing like crazy. When one ignored the horns and tail Scar was very, very attractive. And Cub was very single for a long while and... "Do you have any idea why Gran left this place to me?" he asked grabbing the tea. Anything to not think about Scar unboxing certain things Cub would rather no one knew he owned.

"Well, lady Gertrude wanted the house to go the grandchild with the best affinity for magic and that happens to be you," Scar said, as if that made any sense. Cub was no 'mage', he was a free-lance programmer. 

"I... I never learned any magic..." he opted to say instead of protesting. If he was here then gran and this demon probably had ways of checking. Without seeing him... Creepy.

"You are a bit of a late bloomer when it comes to that but you can still learn," Scar shrugged, not at all bothered but his grin fell a little bit. "The office is locked with magic though... I can't open it, there should be some books in the basement or the attic," the demon hummed and his grin rose up a bit.

Cub looked at him while thinking about the whole thing. He probably could still pack his stuff and just leave but... that wasn't his style. His style was struggling with a challenge as long as it took to overcome it and learn magic, he himself was shocked he was thinking this, sounded like a challenge. A challenge for another day but not one he was running away from. "Okay... I can try learning that stuff..." he sighed moving to the sandwiches. "You're not going to eat?" he asked, just because Scar was looking at him weirdly.

"No. Demons eat other things," Scar shook his head. "But feel free to ask for anything if you're hungry," he quickly added. "I'm here to take care of you, after all."

"Mhm. What do demons eat?" Cub was curious by nature and it would probably kill him one day but he accepted that fact a long time ago.

"Depends on the kind of demon you're dealing with. Some eat souls, some emotions, some nastier things," Scar seemed to shrug as Cub finished a second sandwich. He was really hungry after that unplanned nap. And still, a bit shaken that Scar unpacked his stuff...

"And you?" he continued asking at Scar's lack of a proper answer. 

The demon eyed him for a second before speaking. "Are you sure you want to hear it?" he asked and Cub nodded while chewing. "A certain kind of excitement. I'm a lust demon, Cubby, a hungry one and you're real pretty. And have a lot of magic in ya', it's been hard to not eat you up," Scar grinned leaning closer to Cub. "And you're not getting rid of me."

Cub just stared at him while processing all that. He was a bit surprised Scar was willing to say it all. And it explained why he was not too bothered by certain... things Cub owned. "And how does that work exactly?" 

Scar laughed. Loud, long and at a point annoying to Cub. He was just curious. "It's not as dangerous as humans make it sound," he grinned. "I'd say it's even pleasant to anyone I'm feeding off of," he hummed as the now empty tray vanished.

[silverstream2]

Related to the fragment below, but I feel like the most hurtful thing Dante could say to Modeus about the whole Urizen situation in 5 (this'd be after Dante woke up from his super long nap) would be to stay out of it (in the case below, in Nero making a decision on how to handle Vergil), "Because you're not family".

Because Modeus has all this past history with Sparda, and that effects how he sees Vergil/Urizen, and what he thinks Nero and Dante should do about it. And Dante doesn't want to hear/deal with any of it (Dante, putting a hand over Modeus' mouth and growling at him with glowing red, demonic eyes: "Keep your mouth shut. Not another goddamn word, do you hear me? Keep your bullshit to yourself."), because he spent his whole life cleaning up after his father's messes and being punished for shit his father did, he doesn't want the same for his son/Nero.

The way Modeus reacts to it, Dante could've stabbed him and caused him less pain. Modeus doesn't flinch, tho- you don't, with fellow demons. Flinching shows weakness; it just makes the pain worse. So does begging, or crying. (Sparda: "If you're going to die, face it with some fucking dignity!") That and crying draws attention- a predator could hear it and show up to wonder what the noise was. Show up to investigate and eat any injured prey.

___

WIP from Modeus' past with Sparda. Put stuff I might wanna add or that adds context in brackets:

"... and we were both so close to calling him, 'Father'. [And I wonder, sometimes, if he was ever... If he ever would've- if he had ever been close to thinking of us as-] So close to maybe [being a family]..."

But none of us said anything."

____

"Yours?" Gwen asked [Sparda], pointing back to us [Modeus and Baul]. She had been talking about her own children. Sparda paused for a beat, giving one of those slow blinks that was just a bit too off to be entirely human, like he wasn't used to only having one eyelid per eye.

"No," he said. "They're my apprentices."

And Modeus had hugged his book to his chest, and noted the weight of the sword at his hip as he shifted his weight in what wasn't quite- but that he wished could be- a flinch, and tried to pretend like that didn't sting.

___

Also just. The general concept of Sparda being the first demon outside of Baul that knew about Modeus love for the Human Realm and the humans' creations, like their books, and being supportive of it. As something more than a tool of Mundus' war, too, eventually. Someone that shared Modeus' fascination and respect for the humans, and even nurtured and encouraged it. Which is a big thing, given how much power and influence Sparda had back when he was still Mundus' right hand man.

___

Set back when Sparda was still working with Mundus, and Modeus and Baul were still working under "Lord Sparda" as his soldiers, back when Baul and Modeus were both younger (maybe older teenagers? Or the demonic equivalent of):

Sparda catching Modeus reading a human book or studying human architecture or something else the humans made, and Modeus expecting to get yelled at and punished for it, maybe even killed and eaten. But instead Sparda just smiles in a way that manages to be gentle despite the other demon's sharp teeth, and reaches out one gauntleted hand (Don't flinch. Don't beg, or cry out. All those things just make the pain worse. Go still, go quiet, those things are safe. Like a stone, something that doesn't feel anything.) to, surprisingly gently, ruffle Modeus' hair. And maybe it's just Sparda's power, but his hand feels warm. And his tone is chiding, but surprisingly warm, and kind.

"Put the book down, Modeus. You can read it more later when we get back. I'll even show you how to store it in an archive crystal, if you want. Human books tend to wear out over time, especially in the Underworld- they last so much longer if you put them in a crystal. You can start your own collection."

[dixbolik-lovers]

Next commissioned short fic— canon!Azusa, this time! Warning that this one involves canon-typical violence and self-harm behavior, and is just... generally very unhealthy, even though both Azusa and Reader are into it. Azusa's a little freak, basically. >w>

. . .

The knife in Azusa’s hand is small, but its well-polished shine promises a clean, deep cut. You know he’s done this kind of thing to himself plenty of times, that it would take a lot more than a few slices of what’s little more than a pocket knife to do a vampire any actual harm, and yet... 

You can’t help but be a little hesitant to go through with it. 

“Come on... take it...” Azusa says in that slow, hazy way of his. “It’ll... feel good, you know...” The look he’s giving you is eager, lusting, with far more passion than you’re used to seeing from his generally placid self. 

He passes the knife into your grasp. The handle is smooth and cool, made of some unidentifiable, mahogany-colored material studded with small, silver decorations. Its blade has the slightest curve, catching the dim light of Azusa’s bedroom on its unmarred surface. You turn it over once, twice, examining the tool that’s about to cut into someone’s flesh. 

Azusa shrugs off his cardigan, baring pale, worryingly thin arms. The uneven, twisting scars that already cover them vary in thickness— some wide and gnarled, some barely more than slightly darkened lines. 

“You’re sure you want this...?” you ask. 

“Mhmm...” He nods. “I want to... feel your love... You love me, right...? Show me...” Smiling dreamily, Azusa offers you his wrist. 

Even though your heart feels lodged in your throat, you doubt he’ll take no for an answer, at this point. And... you’re tempted, more than you’d like to admit, to follow through with this. Maybe some part of you is sick too, wanting to see what expression Azusa’s fragile self will make when it hurts. 

So you take his hand. With the knife in one of yours and Azusa’s cool, bony fingers in the other, you resign yourself to what you’re about to do. 

The first cut is thin and shallow, but the knife still glides through Azusa’s skin like it’s nothing. It barely takes any pressure to draw a few small beads of blood— to have him drawing a slow, trembling breath. 

“Deeper...” he pleads. What can you do but comply? 

The next one does indeed go deeper. Blood pools from the cut and trails down the side of Azusa’s arm, the rich, vivid red a sharp contrast to the unhealthy pallor of his flesh. With the third one, he whines. Your hands are shaking, but... it’s getting easier. There’s a certain thrill to this, somehow, especially as you watch the excited flush that slowly blooms across his face. Azusa likes this. You’re the one making him moan. 

It’s erotic, almost, watching the blood spill from even the shallowest of wounds. He’s breathless and shaking, eyes glazed with obvious pleasure— and all you’ve had to do is drag a blade across his skin. 

“Does it feel good?”

Azusa mumbles something incoherent in response. He’s making the same face he does when nuzzles into your chest, when you stroke his hair. 

He likes it. Can you really feel guilty when you know that for sure?

[nimblermortal]

Happy Stabby Day!

These are my knives :)

Chef knives

Features: My favorite darlings, and honestly the ones I wanted to talk about. These are Zwilling Pro, 38417-180 and 38401-180, and it makes me happy they are from Zwilling because they are twins. On the right is a standard chopping chef knife. Note the deep base after the handle, straight belly, and pointed tip in case you need any sharp stabbing motion - though if you're doing much of that, you want another knife. It has a gorgeous heavy chopping sound as you work through an onion, or even a butternut squash.

On the left is my beautiful freaky nerd of a chef knife. It can in principle do anything the chef knife can do, but it's really made for mincing. Note the rounded belly and strange angle at the tip - the belly makes it rock on the cutting board, just a bit, so it's perfect for things like mincing garlic, and the tip changes the weight and makes it readily identifiable. I adore this knife.

Lesson: Learn whether you are a chopper or a slicer in the kitchen, and choose your knives accordingly.

Would I Take it to the Senate in 44 BC: Not a chance. These are made for chopping on a cutting board, and they would not stab in a satisfying fashion.

Hyacinths knife

Features: Wide girth, nearly straight blade, excellent weight if you want to julienne vegetables which Hyacinth frequently does, and the key feature: the rounded bottom edge at the 'point', which allows him to scoop. The slight rounding on the blade allows rocking similar to my twins, but the overall flatness allows him to chop big things in a straight motion whereas mine can only chop. He's also a big fan of the width of the blade for scooping finished products and carrying them on the top.

His actual favorite is a really terrible older knife his grandma gave him, same shape bit a wider yet blade and a more exaggerated rounded end, which doesn't keep its sharpness and the handle keeps falling off.

Lesson: Fancy nice knives keep their edge better.

Would I Take it to the Senate in 44 BC: No It doesn't have anything like a stabbing point. Unless you want to chop Caesar up after stabbing him, this is not the right tool.

Meat knives

Features: Long, narrow blades slice better. If you're a slicer, you want a chef knife that is closer to this shape. I abandon my beloved knives for these fellows when I'm turning large pieces of meat into bite-size chunks, especially if it's chicken. Slicers move better through meat than choppers, and the sharp point helps you get that initial grip.

Honestly I'm not actually a knife person and I don't know what the difference between these shapes is. Chime in if you know!

Lesson: Slicers work better for meat.

Would I Take it to the Senate in 44 BC: This would be my knife of choice if concealment were not an object. Nice sharp point, fine slicing blade, works great on meat - my only concern would be if the violence and stabbing would damage a long blade, or even break it.

Paring knives

Features: Short flat blades for a lot of easy control and leverage. These are fruit-and-cheese knives, where you can hold the object and the knife in your hands and work with them without a surface. Or with one! Detail work, peeling an apple... they also are just smaller and seem easier to clean, so I pull them out for small tasks. (The black one is a Wüsthof we've had since I was a child, and dirty from cutting cheese.)

For a tomato, mind, you'll want either a very sharp knife, or a serrated knife. Cheap bread knife does wonders on that slippy tomato skin.

Lesson: Short knives give more control and enable airborne cutting

Would I Take it to the Senate in 44 BC: Absolutely, if concealment were an issue. Almost all of the advantages of the meat knives above, with much reduced power, but very easy to hide up a sleeve. You could even let it be visible if you're carrying, say, an apple - there's a presumable use here.

Swiss army knife Patrick's dad gave me

Features: ...everything? Downsides: nothing works perfectly. But it's got short blade, long blade, saw blade, tin opener, bottle opener, wine opener, tweezers (barely visible, with the gray hilt by the toothpick), toothpick, fishing? hook?, scissors... If there's more I just haven't found it yet.

Lesson: If you lose your pocket knives constantly, you are allowed to get another one. Knives pass into our lives and out of them - in the case of Julius Caesar, sometimes very rapidly.

Would I Take it to the Senate in 44 BC: I'd have it on me already in case the occasion arose!

[electrivolt]

@rockheadcd​ asked : Roark can't really help himself, he's just plain excited now that the feline's birthday has come up, and he's been considering all of the ways to surprise him—perhaps he's loudly announced such a date to Rhodes' engineering a couple weeks prior, the surprise birthday celebration will be had, filled with plenty of sweet treats from everyone's unique corners of Terra. That's not the only portion to today, not at all—this is just part of it.

After enough stops around Lungmen, the gator has figured there's use in maybe helping Volkner out—placed neatly on Volkner's workstation is a simple, but well-bound, blank sketchbook, complete with tools finished in nicely carved, smooth handles, some traditional, some mechanical. Optimal for Volkner's sketches, so he doesn't need to stack spare pages of paper together to keep them in check. There's a couple of chocolate bars on top, too, as if all of the baked goods in the room weren't enough.

And finally, finally when the celebration is long over and peace and quiet returns, content in their room, Roark has one more surprise to ask about. "The landship will be stopping near Higashi in the next couple of days—how about we spend a day there and stretch our legs for awhile? I've been dying to try some of the food there."

Honestly, through all this time Volkner really has not been thinking of this day. It isn’t as if he were actively trying to forget it, or pretend it isn’t there, just— there are more important things, both to remember and to care for, especially now in his newfound home and role. It just isn’t a day to think about anymore, even now that he can keep track enough to at least know what day and month it is. ( plenty of those had passed already without any fanfare or even himself noticing, so what’s a few more when he has a much more peaceful life now, right? )

Maybe he should’ve known better than to expect Roark to have forgotten about the date.

And there he is, heading for the Engineering Department of Rhodes, ready for another day of work and certainly not having given much, if any, thought to whatever day it may be— and what he walks into is most definitely not just another normal day of work in the slowly spiraling insanity that the hivemind of Engineering was. ( right— people sometimes do indulge in surprises to celebrate, and he’s certainly seen enough during his time on rhodes that maybe he should’ve come to expect something and have a few suspicions raised with how overly normal everyone was acting. )

The surprise takes a good moment or two to wear off enough to let him react at all, a sharp breath to at least try and stay composed enough ( the last thing he wants is to be crying in front of everyone, no matter how much he’s ready for it right now— ), and yet the smile is on his face before he can even really think about it. To go from nothing and barely hanging on to a home and so many people who actually, genuinely care... it’s still hitting him a little harder than he expected. He just needs a moment, really.

The impromptu day off to celebrate is at least appreciated in full, between the unexpected amount of various sweets and desserts he didn’t even know existed and everyone that stuck around to contribute, even when he keeps feeling the redness coming right back to his cheeks the moment he thinks it’s over. ( hey, he’s not used to being the center of attention! not like this, in such a nice way!! ) Between the attention, the food to be had and the perhaps even more unexpected gifts to unwrap, Volkner certainly doesn’t have one quiet moment through the entire day— and he doesn’t mind, for once, not with all the effort everyone put into baking, decorating and preparing presents, so much more than he ever expected. Between all the gifts carefully prepared for either his hobbies or just the machinery he loves to tinker with, they’ve all been paying close attention to what he likes and needs, it’s a surprise he has managed to keep it together through the whole celebration as is.

Last, but most definitely not least, come the present he notices were left on his workbench rather than grouped with the rest. Volkner gives it a little more attention once the party starts winding down, to properly look at the little pile, already having a good idea of who left it there, fingertips carefully brushing the wrapping of chocolate, just a little more caught up in staring than usual, before he finally sets those bars aside to look at everything else. His favorite brand after coming to enjoy sweets again, a new sketchbook now that his old, tattered one is barely held together, the tools he’s been eyeing whenever there was a chance... maybe this one is just a little more sentimental than everything else he’s been gifted through the day.

And once everything is over and everyone’s headed back to their rooms, the first thing Volkner does once the door closes behind them is turn around and nearly throw himself at Roark in a hug, as tight as he could manage and burying his face right there in his neck, tail swishing behind him and some low purring already perking up unknowingly. He just... needs to hold him for a while before he can really say anything. He’s still the birthday boy, he can be allowed this.

“You really remembered and went through all this effort just for me, huh...” It still feels surreal in a way, if he lingers just a little too long on his own spiral of thoughts, but— he still couldn’t be any more grateful for it. And of course Roark wasn’t done with this alone, right? He really does go above and beyond for this stray he picked up...  the sudden offer does have him stopping for a moment, just another little unexpected moment in a day already chockful of surprises as it was, and just as he thought it was all over. ( this one was just a little more to think about than the celebration was. ) It would be a lie to say he held any good memories of the place that was supposed to be home, it would be expected to see him refuse to have anything to do with it, let alone even set foot in there again, but... it would be just as much of a lie to say he never wanted to return. To have better memories of it, now that he really has a home, that he knows he’s not being forced to return to a dingy, decaying excuse of a shelter and hope he’ll survive at least one more day... he does want to go on better terms, doesn’t he? There’s nothing to fear there now that he isn’t alone anymore, anyways. ( and he knows exactly which places to avoid, so it should be fine, right? )

“You know what— that... it really does sound good. I’d love to.” To experience the place he wanted so badly to be able to call home for what it really is, to enjoy it and even cherish it for once— maybe the thought alone is a little more overwhelming than he expected, even through all the overthinking he’s already far too used to. And yet the smile doesn’t drop, still buzzing a little with all the excitement he never thought a single day could hold. He really is lucky, after all, isn’t he? He just needs a moment to breathe now, to keep trying to hold it together even when he can feel his eyes burning just a little, quickly wiping at them with a sleeve when he pulls back. Don’t look at him, it was a lot for just one day he never thought would be considered good enough, let alone special.

“Still can’t believe you planned... all of this, really. I didn’t... think anyone would care this much.” Maybe not something to bring up after such a happy day, but this is something Roark should know already, right? Regardless, it hardly does anything to dampen his mood, smile still bright even now. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this meant, really—” Volkner’s going to be thinking about this for a while. He really couldn’t have asked for anyone better, could he?

[newvegascowboy]

Can I get a #3, a # 7 and a #36 of the Fallout OC ask as a Red and Cecilia combo?

*blue asks like he is ordering fast food

hehe of course! thank you!

3. What is something other than money that could make your character do something they otherwise wouldn’t want to do? What about something they otherwise really, really, really wouldn’t want to do?

For both Red and Cecelia, the only thing that would make them do something they didn't want to do is if the other (or Miles) were in danger - or if there was literally no other choice. Red hated every minute of working for the Think Tank, but didn't have any other options, so they reluctantly did as they were told. Red also... look, they don't have a lot of scruples. They've already done murder, arson, larceny... there's not much else they haven't done.

7. How does your character express anger? Do they have a short temper, do they bury their rage until they burst, or can they handle it well?

Cecelia gets quiet. She's got that cold, sharp kind of anger. Often says and does things she know will hurt, and later regrets. She hangs onto her anger and uses it to keep her productive, if spiteful, and when it bubbles over she always regrets it.

Red lashes out. They punch things. They yell. They get angry. They're ashamed of it, especially because they know they're intimidating and they don't want to scare people, but they really don't have any anger management tools to deal with it. They never lay their hands on anyone unless it's an enemy, however.

36. What keeps your character going? What is the one thing that they have that could motivate them to keep persisting if they lost literally everything else?

For Cecelia, it really is just spite. People assumed she would die, or fail. That she was weak. She wants to prove them wrong with everything she's got.

Red just won't die. They've got crazy high endurance and they're fucking persistent. Anger, sure, but when that dies it's just the pure force of will to keep one foot in front of the other.