#everyone treats me like a fuckin child!

[ashironie]

worst comes to worst, have a backup plan friend who’s cool with you eating like their arm or something. like obviously absolutely last option just too keep you from keeling over until you can get your next meal, but it’s only like an arm and they consent

Posts that be like “If I were a monster that had to eat people, i would just eat horrible people~” are so absurd to me. How often do you see Known Criminals on the street? Billionaires out for a nightly stroll around town? Effectively fucking never. If I have to drag myself to the grocery store, you think it’s gonna be any easier for me to hunt Bezos and Co. every time my stomach growls? I can’t bother to plan meals more than a day in advance, how am i gonna perform whole ass detective work to confirm someone’s a serial killer before i eat them? Ya’ll got that much time on your hands? Planning 5 course meals every night of the week? Don’t make me laugh. Eat a pedestrian and tragically wrestle with guilt like the rest of us, idiot.

[snekdood]

i think some ppl dont understand the difference between being full on consciously bigoted + going out of your way to harass a minority and someone who heard phrases from their friends and family while not actually holding any ill will towards whichever minority

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. what’s one more?

about. now that your kids are all grown up, you’ve gotten to thinking about having another baby with bakugou again.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, suggestive and smutty, fluffy, some dub-con, baby-trapping mention, breeding, unprotected sex mention, reader is a mother, bakugou is getting old hehe, they have three daughters lol, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

i imagine that when your kids get a little older and start becoming more independent — your eldest in their final year of U.A, the middle starting U.A and the youngest still kicking in middle school….you catch a whiff of baby fever again.

it’s not even that everyone around you is having kids, most of theirs are well into their teenage years and giving your old friends trouble. it’s more that you miss the tiny pitter patter of feet throughout your house, the gummy giggles and scent of baby safe soap. oddly enough, you find yourself yearning for the late night feeds and the laughter shared over the inherent explosive bakugou diaper bombs.

speaking of your husband, you kind of hate how good he is with kids. he’s always treated your daughters like princesses, spoiling them rotten and raising their standards so that no possible crush could ever compare to the way their daddy treats them. but he’s so tender with the littler ones he visits as part of hero work, the tiny fans that ask him to sign his trading cards or their backpacks.

it’s adorable and still warms your heart to this day. to the point where you’re jumping bakugou’s bones every chance you get without actually telling him you want another one of his big headed babies. of course, he’s only a man and he’s not going to question why is wife of nearly two decades keeps presenting to him like a bitch in heat after lights out and the kids are asleep.

perhaps that’s why bakugou doesn’t question (on the one night where you have a child-free house) the way you toss away the condom, the way you take it raw and clench down on his cock like your life depends on it. why you squeal all high-pitched for him to fill you up with tears in your pretty eyes — how could he say no to you?

his pretty little wife, his lover, hot piece of ass to love and fuck to his hearts content.

what good, loving man isn’t going to cum in his wife when she begs and cries for it?

it’s not until your trained and doughy thighs lock around his slender waist to pull him into your frothing sex that bakugou realises. you’re doing this on purpose.

and by the time he does realise, he’s filling you up to the brim, sloppy white leaking out of you while you cum around him just like you always do — taking him so well, smiling up at him like you’re on top of the world.

“you fuckin’ leg locked me!” katsuki pants through amused laughter, collapsing on top of you with a sweaty and heaving chest.

“nuh-uh!” comes your quick reply, angling your hips up so that he slips deeper into you.

katsuki gets up soon after and disappears to the bathroom, not before prying your legs off of him — knowing full well he had the strength to do so earlier. if he really wanted to. “my own wife… you tried to fuckin’ baby trap me!”

“no i didn’t!” you pout defensively, brows furrowed and nose upturned. your expression only softens when your husband gives you a pointed look and moves to wipe the mess drying against your inner thighs. “okay…so what if i did?”

you loop your arms around his neck with a purr, toying with the silvery-blonde baby hairs on the back of katsuki’s neck and looking up at him with vixen eyes like you’re about to devour your prey. “we can not have another baby,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head when you hiss at the sensitivity. “was i too rough?”

there’s a rasp to his voice, the kind that’s only prominent after hours of singing your praises in the bedroom. it makes you smile, close your eyes in content, and shake your head ‘no’. “why not?”

“havin’ a baby isn’t like gettin’ a puppy ‘nd you know that, sweetness,” bakugou hums quietly, soothing over the bruises he’d left on the soft handles on your waist. he thumbs at the stretch marks and tigers stripes, the very markings that show you were a mother to three of his beauties children. “we gotta focus on makin’ sure kasumi gets into a good agency, if not mine, and don’t get me started on the other two—“

“—but we could do it. right? i mean we’ve done it three times before. raised a baby, what’s one more?” you do your best to sound convincing while you sit up and cling to your man, pleading with those puppy dog eyes that got you knocked up the first time almost eighteen years ago. “don’t you want a little boy?”

“three girls are more than enough.” bakugou pushes your face away playfully, forcing you back into the sheets so he can lie on top of you. “we’re not as young—“ he starts, but back tracks after being on the receiving end of your heated glare. “i’m not as young as i was when we had our first. ‘n shit, my back hurts and my eyes are gettin’ bad, and our kids… they’re exhaustin’, babe.”

the both of you share a laugh. upon brushing a hand through his hair, katsuki trills happily at your affection. “you’re still a good dad. you’d be an even better to our next. even if you’re a little achey in the knees, old man.” though you’re teasing, you really do mean every word you say. raising your kids has been trial and error from the start, but bakugou’s been strong the entire way through — wanting nothing but the best for his family and always putting them first. “plus, the kids are with the kirishimas for an entire weekend, and you’re telling me you haven’t thought about fucking me raw again?”

“jesus woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, aren’t you?” katsuki twitches against your leg once again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a hungry, syrupy kiss. “you’re right,” he groans against them, loving the feeling of your tongue on his. “fuck, you’re right. spread your legs, sweetness. wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum.”

“yes daddy…” you mewl in reply while a winning grin tacks itself to your lips l face between uncoordinated kisses and surprised moans once your husband eases his throbbing cock back inside of your tight heat. mumbling something about how it feels like home.

needless to say, neither of you are surprised when the next pregnancy test you take is positive. now you just have to explain the baby supplies in your Amazon basket to your three teenage girls.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[heavndoll]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.

pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.

summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.

warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.

author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ

you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.

he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.

murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.

you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.

your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.

rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.

the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.

your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.

if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.

you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.

rafe had to be eliminated first.

“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”

rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.

you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.

you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.

“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.

expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.

to the wine cellar basement.

and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.

but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.

“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”

you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”

“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.

before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.

rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.

god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?

rafe doesn’t recall killing you.

he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.

your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.

the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.

rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.

he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.

he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.

of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.

your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.

rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.

your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.

sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”

kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.

the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.

however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.

you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

or so he thought.

karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.

rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.

he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.

he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.

“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.

nothing. no one. not you.

why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.

rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.

you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.

you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.

that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.

but no. that never came, and never would.

you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.

your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.

why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?

was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?

rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”

sick. not regretful. fucking sick.

sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.

the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.

he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.

“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”

“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”

barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.

rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.

the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.

rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.

“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”

“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.

rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.

“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.

nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.

you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.

rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.

you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.

rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.

your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.

barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”

he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.

he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.

it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.

your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.

pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.

you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.

rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.

dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.

he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.

a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.

he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.

rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.

he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.

oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.

he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.

you only frowned. “so you know.”

like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.

he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.

you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.

“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.

he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.

it was you.

“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?

rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.

he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.

he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.

he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”

he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”

“heaven?” rafe asked.

you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”

“he’s an angry man?”

“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”

rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.

he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.

rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.

they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.

the earth was consuming you.

he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.

your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.

you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.

however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.

even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.

rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.

and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℱ𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈

(Pjo!au)

Warnings-Making out :3 readers a daughter of Apollo, Rafe’s a child of ares

Masterlist

The sunshine daughter of Apollo, the head counselor of the cabin and a beloved person of the camp.

And then there’s him. Rafe Cameron. An Ares counselor who wants nothing to do with anyone, he’s so full of rage sometimes you think that he’s Ares himself. Most of the camp didn’t like him.

And if there was one person who had been in the most fights and always ended up having to be treated by you, it was him.

It wasn’t any better than you both had an on and off thing, a few kisses turning into more every once in a while.

As the head apollo healer, you had a duty you had to fullfill. You cared for everyone that walked in and out of the healer cabins, even after it got busy.

Today had been a slow day, all the other healers were sleeping and just as you had began to close up, there was a knock at the cabin door.

You sighed, throwing the rag you had in your hands down into the sink and opening the door.

“Sorry to pop in so late. But… these two idiots… Got into a fight. Just… work your magic.” Dionysus started, you could tell he was pissed by the way he shoved them both into the cabin, waving a hand.

“Oh! Uh.. I was just about to close up, but…” when you began to talk, he was already walking away, calling back a thanks. You were mad, but just shoved it down.

You looked at the two boys in front of you, one of them being a younger hades boy and the other being none other than Rafe.

“Alright, which one of you started it?”

“He did!” The scrawny hades boy argued, Rafe furrowing an eyebrow, turning to him.

“No I fuckin’ didn’t, you little-“ he was going to attack him before you just put a hand on his chest.

“Jesus, with all these fights Cameron I’m shocked you’re still counselor of that cabin.”

“Whatever. I’m here to be healed, not fuckin’ argue. So… do your job or whatever.” He waved his hand, sitting on a chair.

The scrawny boy sat on the opposite side of the room and they just glared at each other.

“What’s your name?” You asked the boy, he quietly muttered his name and you went over to the filing cabinet. “And… what hurts?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me right now. I’m here to treat you, and I’m just as tired as you are right now. I would like to go home, so please, what hurts?”

You attended to the Hades boy first, his wounds were worse than Rafe’s. He seemed quiet the whole time, not saying a word to you.

After his wounds had been tended to, he grumbled out a thanks and stormed outside, going to his cabin.

You sighed and turned to Rafe, walking over to him. The room was full of tension, both of you felt it but you tried to ignore it.

“Lift up your shirt.” You told him, he did so, a smile on his face as he watched you clean his chest.

“You got him good, I’ll tell you that much.” You murmured to him while you bandaged up his knuckles.

“I know.” He snickered.

“Why do you always do this?” You sighed again, looking up at the boy, stopping your movements.

“That little skinny bastard deserved it.”

“Why?”

“He was talking shit.”

“About you?”

“About you.” He mumbled, you furrowed an eyebrow. “Yeah, he- he called you a bitch to his little friends, cause you accidentally ran into him-or beat him in a sword fight, or something. Got all defensive when I heard him.”

“Wait, you fought him because of me?” You pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. I mean,” he leaned back in his chair. “Can’t have anyone talkin’ bout my favorite healer like that.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his face.

You were silent before you spoke. “Rafe…”

“Hmm?”

“I- I don’t- ever since that kiss-“ you rambled, pausing your movements, looking at the ground.

“Shh.” He mumbled, cutting you off and leaning down, gently gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Please let me have this.” He asked as he leaned closer, your heart picking up as his lips ghosted yours.

You nodded feverishly, and that was all he needed to crash his lips into yours. You let out a low moan, his grip on your jaw turned harsher, and he grabbed your face when he slid his tongue in your mouth.

Your lips left his for a moment when you got up to straddle him. He smiled, before the both of you got back to making out on the chair.

[its-vannah]

Question...? | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, to the point that there's another authors note at the end. Love y'all! Enjoy!

Warnings: Arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity, use of the words "whore" and "prostitute", unhappy bethrothal, angst, fluff

Midnights Masterlist

Before arriving at Dragonstone, your sister took you aside and sat you down in your chambers, smoothing out the front of your dress as if you were still a child in need of constant care.

Taking a deep breath, she sat beside you, placing a hand on your cheek, "My Y/N..."

A small, timid smile appeared on your face. But you wouldn't meet her eyes. You couldn't. A piece of you felt betrayed by what she had done just days prior. Giving your hand away without a word.

By the way

"Before you leave for Dragonstone, there's some things I need to share with you," She explained, "Some things you may not want to hear, but should."

You nodded halfheartedly, "Yes, Aurely?"

Have to say

"The prince will expect certain things from and of you. Things you may not be prepared for."

Shaking your head, you smiled at her, laying your hand atop of hers, "Sister, mother has already been over this. The ceremony, what happens after the ceremony... How fast I need to be with child. I know."

I just may like some explanations

Releasing a shaky breath, your sister shook her head, "No, Y/N, other things. Things mother wouldn't dare share with you."

Raising a brow, your smile faltered, "Is it something bad?"

"It's not good."

You urged her to continue, "Go on."

"It's common for men to take on other women in addition to their wives. Whores, as they're called. They could be noble women, servants, commoners, even prostitutes. Even your closest friends."

Your shoulders fell, "He could be different, Aurely."

She shook her head, "Most men aren't."

"But what about Robert? He treats you well."

She laughed, "He treats his whores better."

Your eyes went wide, "I'm sorry, Aurely, I didn't know."

Fuckin' politics and gender roles

"Everyone knows, they just don't discuss it. Because it's not meant to be discussed. I wish someone had warned me before I was wed, but they didn't. So I'm telling you now. Keep your head up and mouth shut."

"You can't possibly expect me to do that."

Staring into your eyes, she gripped your shoulder, "You will. For the sake of your marriage, you will."

"It isn't much of a marriage without loyalty and trust. How am I supposed to trust my husband when he's sneaking off every night?"

"You're not."

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

Your meeting with Prince Jacaerys had gone as expected. Awkwardly.

After introducing yourselves, you took a quiet walk through the garden, the two of you talking about the weather and your families. Nothing terribly personal. Nothing a man would ask his fiance, and nothing a woman would ask hers.

Good girl, sad boy

You couldn't get a good read on him. He looked sad, but he had a level of confidence you couldn't match. He was sure of himself, and it showed.

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

That night, a ball was planned in honor of your engagement. After spending hours getting ready, your mother making sure everything was in place, the doors into the great hall opened.

Guests piled in, lord's and ladies, nobility, and knights.

Not long after, you made your entrance, a gentle smile on your face as you moved to sit beside Jacaerys at the long dining table.

She was on your mind

He nodded kindly to you, and for a split second, you thought he was coming around. But the longer the dinner went on, the more you realized that his attention wasn't on you, but the woman at the end of the table.

It was one drink after another

She was dressed in red, the color of blood, and her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She was beautiful. And whenever he caught her eye, he bowed his head and looked away, draining his glass of wine.

With some dickhead guy

Even when the two of you were supposed to be dancing, solely focused on one another, his eyes were glued to her. But she wasn't even looking his way. She was dancing with another. And when she did return his gaze, regret was plastered on her face.

There was something you were missing that had happened between the two of them, but you didn't know what. And you were hesitant to ask. But you had always been curious, and it always got the best of you.

It was only when he stopped dancing all together for a moment that he realized you had followed his gaze. And your heart broke.

Fuckin' situations, circumstances

Pulling away, you excused yourself and quickly exited the hall, ignoring the stares of the people you passed on your way out. This wasn't about them. They weren't a part of this marriage.

Making your way to your guest chambers, you hastily opened the door, closing it softly behind you. You had heard the sounds of slamming doors your whole life—you refused to stop that low.

Just barely yourself together, you could hardly breathe. Struggling to unlace your dress, you spent a few minutes unraveling the string until it hung loosely over your body.

Slipping it off, you were in the middle of untying your corset when you heard a soft tapping at your door.

Hesitant to open it, you inched towards the door, slowly twisting and pulling the handle open to peer out the door.

Standing before you was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. A look of sadness on his face as he gazed down at you through his lashes, "Lady Y/N, I've come to apologize. May I come in?

"I'm not sure that's appropriate. There'd be talk."

"We're to be wed, there'll be talk regardless."

Accepting his words, you pulled the door open, stepping to the side.

Still standing in your half fastened corset and underdress, you felt bare before him. But according to your mother and sister, he'd see you like this soon enough. So you didn't bother covering up.

"I'm sorry for my actions, my Lady. It was wrong of me to look elsewhere. My attentions should have been solely on you. And from this day on, they will."

You could tell he was sincere, but you had questions. Questions you didn't want to go unanswered.

Can I ask you a question?

"May I ask you something, Prince Jacaerys?"

He nodded, "Please, call me Jace."

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you pat the spot beside you, "Come, sit."

"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

You raised a brow, "You're already in my chambers unchaperoned, and I am hardly clothed. I think we're past the point of what is and isn't appropriate."

Accepting the truth, he sat beside you, "What would you like to know?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

He shook his head, "I can't answer that."

It's just a question

"But you can. And you will if you wish to earn my respect."

If Aurely could see you know, she'd have your head. But she wasn't here, and neither was your mother.

After a long pause, he nodded, "Yes."

"With the girl—at the ball?"

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

His head hung in defeat, "Yes."

You shook your head in response, "What's her name?"

Jace's eyes sprung open, "You don't plan on harming her, do you?"

I just may like to have a conversation

"No, Jace, I don't. I just wish to know more about you. You may never love me, and I you, but I want to know what love feels like. Even if I'll never have it."

"Her name is Sara Snow," He said, "She married into a wealthy family. I met her in the gardens of Driftmark."

"Tell me about her."

He glanced over at you, "This doesn't upset you?"

"We're past that point, Jace."

He sighed, "She was beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Her beauty. She may not have come from a high family, but she was graceful. Around others, at least. She was... Passionate. Born from fire, I used to tell her. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

"How long were you with her?"

"Three years. Whenever I had the chance to be with her, I was. I couldn't stay away. It's like she grabbed me and didn't let go. And I didn't want her to."

You nodded, "When was the last time you were with her?"

Did you realize out of time?

"A day before I found out about our betrothal. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was unloyal to you."

Miscommunications and I

So your sister had been wrong. About the physical aspect, at least. Emotionally, his heart still yearned for her.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

"How did she take it?"

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

He left out a breathy laugh, but he didn't find what he was about to say funny, "She couldn't have cared less. She was wed two days later. I hadn't known she was betrothed."

Do you wish you could still touch her?

"Do you miss her?"

And you're not sure and I don't know

"Yes. No. I think so. Yes. It hurts like hell. But I can't do anything about it. I'm betrothed, she's married. And I honor myself with being loyal."

"I'm sorry, Jacaerys," You said, returning to formalities, "I'm sorry that I'm not Sara Snow."

We had one thing going on

He shook his head, "I'm glad you're not like her."

"In what way?"

I swear that it was something

He sighed, "You're sincere about what you say. You care. And that's easily noticed. It's what will make you a good Queen."

"Thank you, my prince."

The two of you were silent for a moment, and then he turned to you, "It will take time, Y/N, but I don't think I'll harbor love for Sara forever. I think, given time, I will grow to love you not only as a wife, but as a friend. But I need your patience. I'm..."

"Healing?" You finished, finally meeting his eyes.

A sigh of relief washed over him, "My thoughts exactly."

Rising from the bed, he extended a hand to you, "Shall we return to the ball?"

You looked down at your clothes, "I'm not sure it's acceptable to go back as I am."

"I could help you, if you'd like."

"Are you sure?"

Jace picked your gown up off the floor, placing it on the side of the bed, "Certain."

Then what did you do?

He carefully laced up your corset, his fingers gliding a long the ribbons as he criss crossed them, tying it at the bottom.

Turning you to face him, he slipped your gown back over your head, pulling your arms through one at a time before smoothing it down over you.

"Beautiful."

But one thing after another

Your heart fluttered at his comment, but you calmed your nerves, reminding yourself of his words: this will take time.

A color I have searched for since

Gazing up at his brown eyes, his hands stayed at your waist for a moment

Painted all my nights

Your mother had always told you that she found a sense of comfort in deep brown eyes, and until now, you hadn't understood why. But it all made sense now. That color was everything to you from that point on. Because it was his.

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

The day of your wedding came, and although there was still a ways to go, you and Jace had come far in your friendship.

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Instead of seeking other friends to speak to about everyday topics, you sought out one another, eagerly filling each other in on what happened throughout your days with a smile. Now you were working on building your relationship with each other, which neither of you feared anymore.

So now, as you stood with your finger intertwined, finshing your vows, you accepted your future with Jace gladly.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

He leaned into kiss you, and you met him halfway, softening in his embrace.

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

The only thing that broke you apart was the eruption of clapping from your guests, who were smiling and raising their glasses to the new couple, the future King and Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?

From that point on, you were Jace's sole focus. To him, everything else came after you and your happiness.

(I remember)

Years later, you still remembered what he told you that night.

But tonight

Under the night sky, he looked at you and, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear, smiled, saying, "I think it's happening."

"What is?" You questioned, turning to face him.

Got swept away in the gray

"I'm falling in love with you," He said, "I guess it happened faster than I had planned."

"That's the thing about love, Jace. You can't plan it."

He nodded and, with a smile, leaned into your embrace. Jace had fallen for you, and you for him. That was something that could never be taken away.

That you saw that night

After breaking away, you gazed up at him, "And Jace? I'm falling in love with you, too."

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

A/N: In so many books, movies, and shows these days, love is shown as something that happens in an instant. Often times, we expect for love to happen at the snap of a finger. But not all love is instant. In this fic, you and Jace fall for each other slowly, and are still actively falling for each other by the end. As much as I love fast love tropes, it's important to remember that sometimes, the things that take the longest wind up being the best.

Thank you all for your support in this series. It means the world to me to read your comments and see how much y'all are enjoying it. Stay safe and love y'all!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Could you do the mercs with an s/o who is like- almost comically short?

Oh boy wouldn’t it be a shame if this anon asked me to do a size difference nsfw headcanons one next? Wink wink.

Mercs with an S/O who’s a small menace to society

WARNING: Older bigger men bullying the ever living shit out you. (kinda hot though?)

Scout:

- Scout will not hesitate to make fun of you at every given moment. He’s a decently tall dude so he’ll manhandle you a lot. Holding you in his arms like a personal teddy bear. Overall walking around with you in his arms.

- You bite his arms when you’re bored and he flinches and goes “Ow! What are you? A fuckin’ goblin?!” (Doesn’t he know? The smaller you are, the closer you are to hell.)

- “I could probably slug you into the stratosphere y’know.” He says. You don’t want to test that theory.

- When he’s upset he’ll pick you up, go into his quarters and lay there with you in his arms. Just like the aforementioned teddy bear analogy. If you’re screeching and biting like a fucked up chihuahua that doesn’t deter him.

————————————————————————

Soldier:

- Keeps giving you petnames like “Boot.” “Little one.” “Rat bastard.” (Ignore that last one.) and cheesy shit like that. Treats you how a rich middle aged white woman would treat her teacup pig. You’re being strapped to his back in a baby carrier while he rocket jumps.

- Gets incredibly rough with you on purpose. He likes seeing your squeaks and angry reactions. This guy definitely has a height difference thing. Throws you at enemy lines at like mach 20 knowing full well you’ll shred them like a fucking gremlin. Or stuffs you into his rocket launcher. Pick your evil.

- Lies about you being younger in order to pay less in restaurants. He somehow gets away with this 90 percent of the time. Spy is kind of envious that he didn’t even think of that.

- “NO! WAIT! DONT SHOOT! HANGFIRE! CHILD ON BATTLEFIELD!” He raises you above his head. You’re unbelievably pissed. You’re a grown ass adult. But the enemy lines somehow hesitate which abides him time to blow everyone up. He has no reason to be this smart about your height.

——————————————————————-

Demoman:

- The first time he saw you he burst out laughing. Really hard. Like nearly fell over and shit. He couldn’t stop laughing like actually. It took him days to even approach you properly and finally call you adorable.

- Picks you up when you can’t reach something off the top shelf and instead of helping you get it, he just sits you atop the shelf and leaves you there. They have to call either Heavy or Sniper in order to get you down.

- You take advantage of your height and perch on his shoulders like a parrot. The other mercs don’t understand why Demoman has a pet gremlin.

- “Er’ is my crotch goblin Y/N. They’re gonna bite your dick off if ye cap this point lad!” You can’t say you disagree with that.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- A romantic partner whose tinier than him? Sign him the fuck up. Cradles you like a baby and kisses your head. Bounces you on his lap to soothe you. Expect a lot of sitting outside on the rocking chair at night while he rocks you in a blanket.

- You make grabby hands to him for uppies and he feels like he’s not allowed to say no. “Aww, sugarplum…” He cooes, setting down whatever he was working on and lifting you up into his arms. He might tickle your tummy if you’re fine with that :)

- Picks you up by the scruff of your uniform like a mother cat when you’re misbehaving. He will stare in amusement if you struggle.

- “Careful outside on the Badlands, darlin.. Never know when one of ‘em damn condors might be circling you.” You can’t decide if you want to kiss this man or kill him.

———————————————————————-

Heavy:

- You’re literally so small he’s scared of accidentally stepping on you or something. Always has to wiggle his way around you in the base corridors and mutter what you assume to be an apology in Russian. What you don’t know is that he’s actually cursing out the Administrator for hiring such a tiny Merc. What if you get squashed by falling debris or something?

- HE PICKS YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. YOU ARE IN HIS FUCKING FIST. YOU ARE BEING HELD LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE.

- Treats you like a fucking stress ball. scoops you up in his hands and squishes your cheeks. Lays you on his lap like a small kitten belly up. No amount of biting or awful demon noises will ever convince him to do otherwise. Chuckles lovingly at your tiny anger. “Little, little, little. Tiny like the ant.” He baby talks you.

- Due to your height it’s impossible to bother him. Unlike the others. You can gnaw at his ankles and scratch at his chest but he remains unmoved like a large boulder. Threatens to splat you against the wall like one of those rubber toys and turn you into a pancake.

——————————————————————-

Pyro:

- In his point of view you’re actually terrifying. He doesn’t know why. But you stand out from the rest in their beloved Pyroland. You’re a creature from the primordial depths of hell that has come to eat their soul. You’re uncanny as shit.

- When they meet you for the first time it takes for godamn ever for the Mercs to finally figure out why Pyro was behaving so erratically and out of character. Engineer finally convinces poor Pyro to speak to you and it doesn’t end up in vain. You’re actually a pleasant scary monster.

- Spies don’t scare them. Pyro can kill spies with no effort. But you? Holy shit. Sometimes he doesn’t hear you come up behind them and this usually leads to Pyro spontaneously crying because you startled them. (Your team’s Spy is VERY envious of this.)

- You think this is great! You decide to play a prank on them by crawling on all fours down the dark hallway. Pyro looks like a deer in headlights. All tensed up like a cat attempting to look bigger. Two seconds later the entire base is on fire. You have to explain yourself to the other Mercs how this happened and it’s embarrassing.

- Whenever you kill someone on the battlefield it’s horrific shrieking mixed in with fleshy eating sounds.

—————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Calls you stuff like “Baby bear.” Mostly because he purposely holds you like a mama koala in his camper van’s bed and in the sniper nests. You cling to his lap and listen to his heartbeat while he scopes out the window.

- Same as scout to some extent. Carries you around wherever he goes and holds you like a plush doll. “Easy there on the lil’ daggers, mate.” You keep digging into his skin to hold steady.

- Growls at you when you bite him. Something about you both is evil and animalistic. Bites you back on your “scruff” when you bother him too much. He wants to shake you around in his teeth like a fucking chewtoy but he knows full well that might accidentally kill you. Has straight up cute aggression around you.

- Sniper your furry is showing. Helen, get yo fuckin dog bitch.

——————————————————————

Medic:

- “Well it seems you stopped growing at a certain age. That typically is due to genetics and other factors.” He says after looking at X-rays of your finger bones. Tracing his finger over the image of your growth plates as he squints to see better. He fixes his glasses back up on his nose and scratches his chin.

- He gives you a mischievous side smile. It’s unsettling. He secretly finds the size difference incredibly attractive. He tells you to take the lead vest off and waves his hand dismissively when you question his creepy expression. “What?! It is just my usual smile. I always look like this.”

- You’re not convinced. You take the vest off and straighten your team uniform a bit to get yourself situated. Without warning he grabs you by the wrist as you attempt to leave. “Ah-ba-ba-ba! I didn’t say you could go yet.” He pulls you against his chest. Forcibly. His natural heat was causing your heart beat out of your chest. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. Cupping a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t move.

- The way you were (in theory) powerless was exhilarating for him. He placed his free hand on your chest and marveled in your heartbeat. Really? That’s all he wanted? Medic let out a long pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s gooood.” He feels like he could potentially hold your tiny heart in a cute little decorated specimen jar but that would kill you, sadly. Can’t have that.

———————————————————————

Spy:

- Has unimaginable amounts of trauma from his father figure and you help him cope with said trauma a lot by being small. He deeply regrets passing by the chance of raising Scout. That in-and-itself was also a traumatic experience for him. Whenever it isn’t romantic lovey dovey adult time you lay in his arms and he looks over your adorable small body with adoration in his eyes.

- He rubs your small cheek and although he’s still frowning like always — you know full well this man is losing his mind on the inside. This was oddly healing for him. He felt butterflies in his chest as he gave you the love that his family never gave him. Jesus christ, somebody get this man a silicone baby or some shit. And a therapist. Mostly a therapist.

- He has no idea how to baby you to be honest. No fucking clue and he isn’t great at this. He does what he’s seen people do before in public. Wrap you in a blanket and pats your back. He says nothing as he does this. “There’s a scared little boy behind that mask isn’t there?” You ask him lovingly.

- He avoids eye contact after you say that. Looking away shamefully. His mouth twitches. You put your head under his chin contently.

- He stalks you and monitors you on the battlefield. Ready to stab the ever living crap out of anyone who overpowers you. In a particularly rough situation with an enemy heavy he risks his own life to backstab the opponent. You batter him for being too bold and exclaim that he could’ve killed himself. But Spy side eyes you, fixing his tie and cloaking away. He was secretly proud of himself that he had finally managed to protect somebody smaller than him. To make up for all the times he wasn’t there for Scout.

[darnell-la]

𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬

pairing: the worst!logan howlett x Wade’s goddaughter!reader

warnings: cussing, heavy drinking, teasing, age gap, sex toys mention, body contact, rough sex, sniffing (Logan doing what he does best), etc.

note: full story here.

yes, the reader is black, BUT we don’t really mention it in the story. we want everyone to be able to read our stories to imagine themselves.

we will be turning this into a mini-series. there is a plot and there will be dark trauma. if you’re an X-Men fan, this won’t be too dark for you (maybe).

we rushed through this story... we will do better in part two.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

-----

“They treat you guys this good?” Logan asked as he stalked behind y/n who was now walking to her dorm room. “Yeah,” she said with a stern tone, still upset at the man.

Logan chuckled as she finally made it to her room. “Alright — Thank you for walking me to my room without me asking. I truly feel safe,” she faked a smile with an eye roll she’s been wanting to get out for a while.

“Suck up the damn attitude, bub. Only wanted you to be safe,” he truthfully told. Y/n’s heart felt soft at his words, but she didn’t let him know that.

“Can I see your room, Bub?” The man asked, feeling obligated too. He drove and walked her all the way here. Showing her set up would be the least she could do for him.

The man didn’t know what came over him, but deep down, he wanted to get to know the young lady. Usually, people have to beg for him to give them attention, maybe even do something for that would be if it him, but right now, all he’s doing is begging her for attention.

Y/n wanted to invite the man in, feeling like he deserved it, but she quickly remembered that she hadn’t cleaned up.

“No,” she said, trying to keep it simple. “Why not? You hidin’ a boy in there?” He teased. “No, I just- I haven’t cleaned, and I hate when people see my space dirty — Come by tomorrow,” she suggested as she walked behind her door to push it closed, but he placed his foot in between the door, stopping her from shutting him out.

“C’mon — Can’t be that bad,” he said before pushing the door open. A scoff left her mouth when the man walked in. She wanted to stay angry at the man, but he was kind enough to slip off her shoes. She did the same as she stalked the man, hoping he wouldn’t find anything.

The young lady prayed to god he wouldn’t walk into her bathroom — Sadly, he did. She went to yell for him to stop, but it was too late.

Y/n cover her face in embarrassment as the man walked in. She could hear him laughing, the laugh already sounding like a tease.

“Fuckin’ hell, kid — What are you studying in? Being a freak,” he joked as he walked out, closing the door behind him. “Get out, Logan,” she said, now upset, but more embarrassed.

“Hey, c’mon, sweet cheeks — It ain’t like Ian seen toys before. I mean, back in my day, there were only a few sizes but it seems like you’ve got them all,” he teased again with a laugh.

She hated the way he mocked her with no remorse, but deep down, she liked the feeling of being embarrassed. Of being caught. She knew his mocking wasn’t to make her feel bad. It was to overpower her in some way.

“Talk to me, y/n,” Logan broke the silence after she looked away. “You ain’t gettin’ the love you need?” He asked, stepping towards her with a dark intimidating look that made her knees buck.

Y/n didn’t reply to the man. He had no right to know about her personal life. Her sex life.

“Gotta buy all these toys to feel good? These little boys here ain’t lickin’ your bean right?” He teased, chest up against hers. The man softly turned her head towards him after she looked away, suddenly feeling all the lust run through his blood.

At first, she was just a child to him. A lying one at that. She had a fucked up attitude and carried herself like Wade’s long-lost twin.

Yet, she was too hot, and too beautiful to let that turn him off. Someone would have to work a miracle to make him dislike this one.

“Look at me, bub,” the man said, her eyes still looking somewhere other then his until they finally looked at him. “Because if you ain’t gettin' the love you want, I can do it for you,” Logan went all the way in, feeling his cock pulse at the way her eyes soften.

“W-What do you know about love?” She asked, making him chuckle. “I’m a simple man, baby — Ian gotta do much to impress that pretty body for yours. You sure don’t have to do much to impress mine,” Logan said as he grabbed her hand to place it on his hard-on through his thick blue jeans.

“Your collection sizes seem to be different sizes — like you’re looking for the perfect size,” the man read the young lady like a book. “I gotcha perfect size right here, and lemme tell ya — It’s way bigger than your biggest toy,” the man mocked the sad excuse of an extra large dildo she owned.

Before she could say anything, Logan picked her up and threw her on her bed. He’s been eying the bed ever since he walked in here, hoping that wasn’t the dirty she wasn’t talking about. He wanted to come right in here and try his luck.

“Logan,” she spoke, not saying anything to follow. All she did was watch him get undressed. “Am I disappointing you?” He asked, knowing he looked exactly how she imagined. How she liked.

He never forgot when Wade mentioned the Wolverine was her favorite superhero. He wondered why for a while until he saw what she saw in him.

He knew for sure he looked good. Her eyes would glance at his muscles every once in a while, but that wasn’t the giveaway. The giveaway was the way she looks up at him all day today. Those pretty eyes sparkling when his met hers, even if it was just a few seconds.

“Never,” y/n replied. Logan instantly groaned at her voice, thankful that she was willing to go on with his actions. “That’s a good girl,” the man growled as he hovered over the woman, heavy cock dragging up her leg.

“Your pants are so thin — I can smell your cunt like you’re walkin’ around asking for it,” he said before ripping them off. “And no panties? What a fuckin’ slut,” the man chuckled as he traveled his hands up her body.

“W-Wanted to look good in my shorts” she said, knowing her ass would jiggle just right. “Well, it worked, princess — But I prefer your shorts when they’re off,”

Logan attacked the girl's lips, kissing her roughly like he’d been starving to taste her for decades. She tasted so sweet. He knew she would.

Y/n wrapped her legs around the mans waist, allowing his cock to rub up against her bud and in between her folds. “Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned his head back before going back in to kiss her.

The man would’ve loved to watch his cock slip in her cunt, but he couldn’t get his body off of her. Instead, he lifted his hips high enough, moving until his tip pushed at her entrance.

Y/n whined at the feeling, knowing he was about to fill her the most she’s ever been filled before. Without warning, he did just that.

Y/n slightly screamed at his hard bullied thrust.

“Don’t worry, baby — Gonna stretch you just right. Mold this cunt until it’s my perfect fit,” he began snapping his hips as his mouth grazed on her ear.

“Gonna stay at Wade’s place, just for you — Fuck — Now I gotta tell the little bastard that you are a good reason to stay,”

Y/n moaned, nails now digging into his back at his words. The man groaned loudly, loving the slight pain she gave him. He was certain that anything y/n wanted to do to him, he’d enjoy. As long as he gets a taste of her soaking cunt right after.

“C-Cumming,” y/n cried out, gushing all over his cock. Then the man chuckled at how easier it was to fuck into her cunt now. The young girl was still tight, but her wetness made the feeling better.

“L-Lo,” y/n stuttered, not being able to say the man’s full name. When she fucked herself with toys, she mostly thinks about the man and how good Logan would feel in her. How he’d come back from a mission just to fill her up.

“Yeah, bub, You like it? Like my old cock up your pussy? Gonna tell the whole world how good I fuck you after this?” Logan snapped his hips hard, knowing y/n’s mind was slowly fading away.

“So fuckin’ dumb on my cock,” Logan grinned down at the girl. “Gonna have to come by here every day. Scare the boys away because I know for a fact, you bring ‘em up in here — I smell them,” Logan’s voice instantly seemed angry.

Y/n wasn’t sure until the man was upset until he leaned up and gripped her waist on both sides.

“W-What? I don’t do that,” she lied, and that was a mistake. She had been pounded so dumb, she forgot he had enhanced smelling.

“You’re in for one, bub,” Logan’s warned as his nails dug into y/n sides before he pulled her into his hard pounds. He was knocking the wind out of her repeatedly.

Y/n tried pushing herself back, but she could barely keep herself together. The moans and crying that came from her mouth, egged the huge muscular man on.

Watching her body jolt at each thrust and her tits bounce under her shirt, made him think about the future days he’ll be touched all over here.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” the man began to sweat. He hasn’t fucked this hard in a while. The load he’s about to give her will fill her cunt up to the fullest.

“Logan,” y/n moaned, head throwing back as another orgasm washed over her body. The man’s hips stuttered, watching her body arch as he kept her in place. The pulls into his thrust only made him closer.

“Y-You can’t be seen with me. I-I can end up hurting you,” y/n spoke, feeling like she needed to say something, but she was struggling. “Thought you said that’s how life is,” Logan reminded her.

“T-This is different — He can hurt you,” she said felt guilty for telling him so late. “I doubt anyone can hurt me,” he smiled down at her. Logan instantly realized that the girl was actually terrified.

“H-He’ll do anything to hurt me,” Y/n teared up as she lifted her hands to his face. “Then I’ll end him so he won’t get the chance to hurt you again,” the man said, ready to get at any college student who made her feel this fear.

Y/n pulled Logan into a tight hug, rolling her hips up into his thrust. She was scared, but soon felt safe again. Logan could handle the heat that was coming. He’s the Wolverine. He helps people. He helped Wade save his world.

He could save y/n’s world. He can save her peace. He can save her.

Logan bite down on y/n's neck, trying to form love marks as his cock twitched around her walls. The thought of her needing him, made him feel good. He's always needed someone to depend on him, but this felt different.

Logan had a choice to leave, but he's choosing to stay and make y/n understand she's too young and pretty to be going through a rough time with a man.

"Gonna cum, bub," the man's voice muffled into her neck as he pulled her closer. Y/n's walls clenched around the man’s length, sucking him in tightly. "F-Fuck," the man slightly moaned right before he spilled into y/n, filling her up until she couldn't hold his seed anymore.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building. I DO own my OC, Julian Arroco.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, verbal harassment, mentions of insecurities and abandonment, daddy issues, crying

A/N: IM BACK AND OFF MY HIATUS🥳🥳🥳

“Hey! Emo girl!”

You instantly felt your cheeks turn red. He wouldn’t leave you alone.

Instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, you continued walking towards the Big House. You had been summoned there by Chiron (who had sent Luke to convey the message), and didn’t want to be late.  

Though, if Julian Arroco kept hollering at you the way he had since he’d arrived at camp two days prior, you would be very late. It would take a significant amount of time to kill him and find Luke so he could help you hide the body. 

As you approached the large wooden building, you placed your right hand on the hilt of your weapon. If another word escaped his idiotic mouth, you would ensure he ended up in the infirmary. 

Just as your left boot made contact with the first step, you felt a rough, large hand grab your forearm.

“Don’t do this,” you warned, your tone almost disappointed, as if you were scolding a young child.

“Relax,” Julian said with a cocky grin. “Just wanna ask you a couple questions.”

You sneered at him, reveling in the slight fear that appeared in the son of Aphrodite’s eyes.  “Sure you do. Now get lost.”

“I’m not afraid of you, emo girl-“

“I have a name-“

“You don’t scare me at all,” Julian continued, completely ignoring you. “Everyone thinks you’re intimidating, but you really aren’t. I bet you’re all soft and pathetic on the inside, hm? Seems like it doesn’t take much to get under your skin.”

Tugging your arm out of his disgusting grasp, your wings appeared, giving you a larger, more terrifying silhouette. Julian backed away, his muscular, conventionally attractive body cowering before you. 

You gave him a twisted smile. “You’re right, Julian. I am very easily provoked, and having brainless idiots follow me around and harass me all day really gets on my nerves. And I’m sure that you’ve heard the rumors about my “weird, horrifying death powers”. You don’t want to find out if they’re true, do you?” 

“N-No.”

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. Now leave me alone, or I’ll tell Luke to target you during the next round of Capture the Flag.”

“Of course,” Julian scoffed. “You’ll go running for your man to protect you. Just like a girl-“

His lips froze mid-sentence when you raised your hand, the tips of your fingers pointing towards his throat. 

“I don’t know everything you’ve heard about me,” you began slowly. “But if you’re really that interested in my life, let me start with this: yes, I can kill without even laying hands on my opponent. Want a demonstration?“

“Please,” Julian whimpered. “I’m sorry, I swear by the gods that I’ll leave you be.”

You tilted your head. You briefly debated the benefits and consequences of hurting him, and decided that it was worth it.

But before you could act on your decision, you heard the doors of the Big House open behind you. 

“What’s going on here?” Chiron’s tone was apprehensive, yet it lacked any fear. After living for thousands of years, he had seen much more terrifying sights.

“She just started attacking me, sir-“

“That’s bullshit,” you snapped. “You’ve been harassing me ever since you crossed the camp border.” 

“Enough,” Chiron said firmly. “Julian, go back to the dining pavilion where the rest of your siblings are. I have an important matter to discuss with this young lady here, who you should not be treating so disrespectfully.”

Julian gave you a scathing look, but turned on his heel and walked away, his fists clenched at his sides.

Chiron looked down at you, his face softening ever-so slightly.

“Come, my child,” he said ominously, beckoning for you to follow him inside. “We must get this conversation started before you miss too many activities.”

.

.

.

You left the Big House even more angry than you entered it.

Out of all the things you expected the conversation to be about, “trying to blend in better with the other campers” hadn’t even entered your mind.

You’d tried so hard for years to fit in. To become a normal demigod (or as normal as a demigod could be, anyway) and get along well enough with those around you. It became much harder to do so after returning from the quest, but you still put effort into being at least agreeable. And it seemed like most people didn’t mind you, despite your darker demeanor and closed-off nature. 

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Some campers had been genuinely disturbed by you of late. And though it wasn’t your fault in the slightest, you were being forced to change.

It simply wasn’t fair.

And even worse, you held none of the blame. Your father was responsible for it.

But because he was a god, he’d never face the consequences.

With every step you took, the grass and flowers withered and turned grey around your feet. You didn’t care that other people were staring. 

You just wanted to find your boyfriend.

You spotted him sitting on a stone bench with Chris, chatting casually. As soon as he looked up and saw you, his relaxed posture stiffened. He stood up and walked towards you briskly, instantly placing a hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“We need to go somewhere more private,” you hissed. “Or I’m going to scare everyone else.”

Luke’s brow furrowed with confusion, but he didn’t question you. You practically dragged him towards Cabin 11, not even bothering to see who was watching.

Once you’d reached the clearing behind the Hermes cabin, you told Luke everything. How Chiron had stopped you from hurting Julian, and what he’d said once you were in his office. The longer you talked about it, the angrier you got. 

“That makes no fucking sense,” Luke said, bewildered. “You’ve been here basically your entire life, and he’s just now trying to force you to conform because it’s bothering a couple of cowardly half-bloods?” 

You nodded stiffly, trying not to show that it was getting to you. You didn’t want to place that burden on him, not after everything else he’d been through of late.

But the tears sprung to your eyes anyway. 

Luke sighed, pulling you into his arms instantly. 

“Hey, listen to me,” he said. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t need to change, even though someone’s trying to force you to. If people are bothered by your existence, well, that’s their fuckin’ problem.”

“Everyone was fine until we came back from our quest,” you lamented. “Sure, I understand why my abilities may be off-putting, but I’m not trying to hurt anyone by just existing! Why don’t they understand that?” 

“Because they’re idiots,” Luke answered. “They judge you before they get familiar with you, which is unfair. But those who do know you well love you.” 

You sniffled, clinging to him like a vice. “But if I don’t change, people are going to keep complaining Chiron, and-“

“Don’t pay any attention to them. It’s not worth it,” he said firmly. 

With a sigh, you nodded slightly. “I know, I know…I just get so angry when people bother me for no apparent reason. It makes me want to leave this place, even though I know the outside world is so much more dangerous.”

Luke went silent for a moment. 

“Maybe one day, we’ll find a life for ourselves far away from here,” he began, running his fingers through your hair soothingly. “Forget about who our parents are, and spend the rest of our days living like mortals.”

“We’d be hunted constantly,” you pointed out bitterly. “I attract too many monsters. We’d never live a peaceful, domestic life.”

“Let’s not focus on the hypotheticals then,” Luke said. “Let’s focus on what we can do to help you right now. Don’t listen to anything that Chiron said, okay? He thinks that trying to be more like the others will make you happier, but he doesn’t know you like I do. Forcing yourself to be someone else will only make you feel more miserable. And remember, you have good friends who love you for the way you are, like Annabeth and Chris. And, of course, you have me.”

You gave him a small smile. “Okay.” 

Luke took your hand. “Good. Now, let’s go get something to eat.“

With that, you and Luke walked to the dining pavilion hand-in-hand. You were still slightly upset, but for now, you were going to try to let it go. 

Howrver, you couldn’t help but start to plot revenge against Julian Arroco. 

Little did you know that both of you had revenge running across your minds. 

________________________________________________

Wringing out your hair with a towel, you internally lamented about the humidity in the air. The gods were able to manipulate the weather within the camp borders in order to maintain the ideal temperature, but it never felt quite right to you. Perhaps it was because your body temperature was unusually low. You’d always assumed it was an inherited trait from your father.

And you never wanted to meet him, so you were content with never confirming it.

Carefully folding up your towel, you slid on your  sandals and exited the bathroom. You had always hated sharing showers with the other campers. It felt like a huge intrusion on your privacy, and the water was often lukewarm, leading to a less-than-enjoyable experience.

The outside world may invite monsters to kill you at every waking moment, but at least it had decent showers.

Ever since Luke had planted the idea of leaving camp for good in your head earlier, it had been the sole focus of your thoughts. What would life be like with him outside of Camp Half-Blood? Would you be able to find some resemblance of a normal life and escape the stigma that surrounded you? Or would you endure different kinds of prejudice, and never truly feel safe in public? 

You knew it was useless thinking about it so profoundly. Realistically, you knew wouldn’t be leaving camp any time soon.

But that did nothing to stop you from fantasizing. 

.

.

.

Luke fell almost instantly that night, ready for a full night of rest. 

But while Luke slumbered soundly, his head resting on your chest, you were wide awake. 

Though your body was exhausted, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. You’d never been so tempted to pack up your things and leave camp forever. But you wouldn’t ever just abandon Luke like that. After being abandoned and neglected by his father, you knew that it would destroy him.

The only solution would be for him to come with you.

And you weren’t sure that he would want to. He wouldn’t want to leave behind his siblings, or Annabeth. Nor would he enjoy being homeless again, like he was for five years of his childhood. 

So you would stay at camp. For Luke. Because you couldn’t imagine life without him. 

Closing your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh. Worrying about this was futile. You needed rest, desperately. 

You allowed your muscles to relax, and your limbs suddenly felt like lead.

You were teetering on the edge of sleep when Luke jolted violently in your arms, and sat up abruptly. 

His eyes were frantic, and they were brimming with frightened tears. When his pupils met yours, you knew that something was incredibly wrong.

“Hey,” you whispered soothingly. “I’m here, Luke. It was just a dream, you’re okay.” 

Luke shook his head vehemently. 

“I-It wasn’t. Someone…Someone spoke to me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Was it your father bothering you again? I swear, I’ll march up to Olympus and tell him to-“

“It wasn’t him,” Luke cut you off. His breath was shaky, so you took his hand in an attempt to calm him.

“Who was it then? Zeus? Hades? The Fates?”

He shook his head again.

“Please,” you begged. “Please tell me. I can’t help you if you hide it from me.”

There was a heart-wrenching pause. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Luke spoke.

“It was Kronos, King of the Titans.”

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @have-a-nice-day-k, @felinows, @i-am-me-and-you

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments!!!

I have been INCREDIBLY busy recently, but my life is finally getting back to normal. I’m going to start posting more frequently, but I may update a little slower than I used to :))

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[specialagentartemis]

First Impressions: Doug Eiffel

for this ask game

First impression

Oh my god I can’t stand this fuckin guy. He is SO annoying. Minkowski is a far better woman than I am because if he treated ME like that I would have just left him to drown in space. Little bit disappointed that she didn’t.

Impression now

Favorite podcast protag Basically Ever. I love him and I want him to be happy and he’ not but I want him to be!!! The heart of the team, the social glue who holds everyone together. Character development leaves me in awe. He went through Some Shit and the way he is makes a lot of sense, in retrospect, but also, him getting hit over the head with You Need To Try To Do Better and him truly trying to do better was so well done and I am So impressed.

Favorite moment

Choosing one is hard but I looove “Mayday” when we see Eiffel cast off in space and he shows how clever he actually is to survive!

(Also: “GODDAMN IT RENÉE DON’T DO THIS”)

Idea for a story

It’s extremely spoilery postcanon stuff but I would love to write him developing a friendship with [REDACTED] that absolutely no one else is happy with. The Tension. They get each other now in a way no one else does.

Also SOMEDAY I will finish the Box 953 story where Eiffel comes in clutch to save the day by completely misunderstanding the assignment. A Hero

Unpopular opinion

Eiffel’s relationship with Hera is an extension of the theme of parenthood—the parallels between Eiffel’s relationship with his daughter Anne and Pryce’s relationship Hera are extremely strong in “Limbo” and “Memoria.” The parent who feels a sense of ownership over their child, and in the process gives them a traumatic brain injury because they can’t let go of that sense of control. Eiffel’s relationship with Hera is affirming and healing for both of them—Eiffel can’t undo what he did to Anne, but he can do better this time by treating Hera like a whole person and an equal who gets to have her own choices and have her opinions heard; and Hera getting to have a relationship with someone who has that respect for her. They've mutually adopted each other, but there are times—especially in “Bolero” at the funeral—where Eiffel is taking that parental role and trying to do it better than he previously did, or she previously got.

The father-daughter aspects of Eiffel and Hera’s relationship are pretty thematically relevant to both of their character arcs. And it doesn’t have to be infantilizing or childish because uh adults have parents too, and the relationship between Cutter and Pryce is a third parallel there for a man and his adult daughter when he can’t let go of that feeling of control over her either.

Favorite relationship

Minkowski and Eiffel’s incredibly slowburn friendship to becoming so incredibly important to each other… it’s everything to me

Favorite headcanon

This man is aromantic and I have textual support of this. He has never heard this word before in his life tho.

Also this man went to Catholic school and that strongly informs very much of his general demeanor regarding authority.

[oneandonlyjiyanxscarshipper]

~Boothill and Welt friendship squabble~

“Mutterfudger! I cant Read This! It’s too damn hard.” Boothill grumbles

“are you fuckin kidding me right now? This is a Dr. Seuss book, I could read these when I was 6.” Welt scoffs

“Listen Here Partner ain’t every as privileged as you is when you was a child.” Boothill says

“I was never privileged as child, my life sucked as kid. I lost my father and my mentor, and I had some try to kill me, you cunt.” Welt says “And that’s not all, I was treated like garbage and my only use to the adults around me was to fight. Hours upon hours of training to control my power all for nothing because I was and always have been a useless piece of shit!” Welt sighs, bringing his hands to his face.

“Well hey Now Partner, not everyone is gonna use ya like that… not everyone is gonna see you in the light, I think your a pretty useful person!” Boothill says trying to lighten Welt mood

“ Can i confide something to you Boothill?” Welt asks

“Of course ya can Welt.” Boothill says

“My Name isn’t Welt, It’s Joachim. I just needed to get this off my chest, I hate lying but it’s become second nature to me…” Welt says

“That’s a lovely name! I’m thankful you trust me enough to tell me this partner! I’ll keep your little secret with me, no matter what.” Boothill smiles

“Promise?” Welt asks

“I pinkie promise.” Boothill says

~the end.~

[shu-of-the-wind]

Okay so I have been asked to cast an eye over SB197 in the WV legislature, which is a new bill introduced to both add a new section to WV law as well as amend an existing section about child neglect and abuse, to see what potential issues I see.

TLDR: this is not only really dangerous from a standpoint of people being trans publicly, since one of the big editions is making being trans a display of obscene material and punishable by law, particularly within school grounds, but I am also seeing a lot of parental rights additions that make me REALLY SCARED of how trans kids are going to be treated in WV. I’m going to go thru it section by section and break down why each section frightens me, so hopefully this is educational for folks.

My creds: I worked in family law as an attorney for three years, I was affiliated with a public defenders office for that same amount of time working primarily with juvenile offenders, and I am still an attorney even if I haven’t worked in those fields for the last six months. Plus I’m trans. And I love WV and wanted to live there. So.

WEST VIRGINIA'S FUN NEW SHITSHOW HORROR HOUSE TIME.

The new section (formally titled §18-5-29, Obscene matter in public schools prohibited [I will be calling it the Obscenity section]) is about 700 words of absolute garbage. Essentially what it distills down to is the following.

Section A: prohibiting anything they label as “obscene matter” in or within 2500 feet of any public school library, classroom, building, or other facility under the supervision of the state board of education and requiring that any school officials or personnel who become aware of the material remove it from school grounds. “Obscene matter” is currently defined in §61-8A-1 of the WV code, pretty fuckin broadly (unconstitutionally so in my opinion but ~that’s me~). So basically anything an “average person applying contemporary community standards would find taken as a whole appeals to the prurient interest or is pandered to a prurient interest” (basically, anything ~unwholesome~), anything that an “average person applying community standards” would find depicts sexually explicit conduct in a “patently offensive way,” or anything that a reasonable person would find “taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, scientific or political value” which basically means E V E R Y THING.

Section B. This is the one that scares the shit out of me tbqh, cause this is folding in the amendment section I mentioned earlier to another part of the WV code specifically relating to child abuse and neglect. This section mandates that any “school officials or school personnel while engaged in a professional capacity or activity” shall be found to be a “custodian of children” under WV law. This basically makes EVERYONE a mandatory reporter, which like…most professionals already are, but at the same time this is EXPLICITLY MAKING ANYONE WHO WORKS IN THE SCHOOL IN ANY CAPACITY (see: any school officials or school personnel) mandatory reporters regarding “obscene matter.” So if an adult working at the school even SUSPECTS that a child has been exposed to “obscene material “while in any public school facility (unclear from the phrasing if the exposure happened on school property, or if the professional just learns about it there) and they decide not to report it (or they “fail to make a TIMELY report” when there’s no real definition of what timely means) then they can be prosecuted for a misdemeanor and imprisoned.

Section C. The state superintendent is going to establish a procedure to file complaints alleging violations of subsection A. If they find that a violation occurred, they will TELL THE COPS THAT IT HAPPENED.

Section D. No government funds (state or federal) can be used to develop or operate programs “designed to promote or encourage sexual activity, whether homosexual or heterosexual” or “to distribute or aid in distribution of any legally obscene materials” within 2500 feet of a school building or facility. Which, woof. We could unpack everything about that one, but it’ll be most of the review.

Section E. If an adult is found to have committed a felony under the child neglect statute related back to this one (if they’re found to have neglected kids by allowing them to view or possess “obscene material” is my understanding, this bill isn’t written that well) then they will be subject to penalties set forth in a felony, which I’m guessing (on average) is at least a year in jail and a thousand dollar fine, from what I’ve seen of WV felony statutes.

Section F. THIS IS THE OTHER REALLY SCARY ONE TO ME FROM A LEGAL STANDPOINT. “Any student or parent, guardian, or custodian on behalf of a student shall have civil cause of action against a county board, public charter school, state board” if the entity caused or was negligent in allowing a violation of the preceding sections, basically if they let anything slide PARENTS CAN SUE THE SCHOOL which like…if you’re talkin about a trans kid who is not out to their parents, they’re found to have “obscene material” (fanfiction?? Fanfiction could qualify here??? Risque art that isn’t even definitionally pornography?? A book abut transitioning that they’re hiding from their parents???) the school is mandated to not only out this kid to their parents, but the parents can then sue the school if the school DOESN’T OUT THE CHILD. Just spinning a hypothetical here but I hate this.

The rest of the bill is adding in definitions to Article 8A of the WV code, which are as follows. Anything italicized is the new language that has been proposed to be added by the bill; anything NOT italicized was already in the law:

(g) "Graphic," when used with respect to a depiction of sexually explicit conduct, means that a viewer can observe any part of the genitals or pubic area of any depicted person or animal during any part of the time that the sexually explicit conduct is being depicted.

(h) "Identifiable minor" means a person: (i) who was a minor at the time the visual depiction was created, adapted, or modified; or (ii) whose image as a minor was used in creating, adapting, or modifying the visual depiction; and (iii) who is recognizable as an actual person by the person’s face, likeness, or other distinguishing characteristic, such as a unique birthmark or other recognizable feature;  and shall not be construed to require proof of the actual identity of the identifiable minor.

(i) "Indistinguishable" used with respect to a depiction, means virtually indistinguishable, in that the depiction is such that an ordinary person viewing the depiction would conclude that the depiction is of an actual minor engaged in sexually explicit conduct.

(i)(l) "Matter" means any visual, audio, or physical item, article, production transmission, publication, display, exposure, exhibition, or live performance, or reproduction thereof, including any two- or three- dimensional visual or written material, stereopticon, moving picture, slide, film, picture, drawing, not exceeding $500 video, graphic, graphic novel, or computer generated or reproduced image; or any book, not exceeding $500 magazine, newspaper or other visual or written material; or any motion picture or other pictorial representation; or any statue or other figure; or any recording, transcription, or mechanical, chemical, or electrical reproduction; or any other articles, video laser disc, computer hardware and software, or computer generated images or message recording, transcription, or object, or any public or commercial live exhibition performed for consideration or before an audience of one or more.

(j)(m) "Minor" means a an person under eighteen years of age or a person representing himself or herself to be a minor. Any prosecution under this article relating to a victim who is representing himself or herself to be a minor shall be limited to investigations being conducted or overseen by law enforcement.

And the big doozy here is this one:

(k)(n) "Obscene matter" means matter that:

(1) An average person, applying contemporary adult community standards, would find, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest, is intended to appeal to the prurient interest, or is pandered to a prurient interest;

(2) An average person, applying community standards, would find depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexually explicit conduct; and

(3) A reasonable person would find, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.

(4) For the purposes of any prohibition, protection, or requirement under any and all articles and sections of the Code of West Virginia protecting children from exposure to indecent displays of a sexually explicit nature, such prohibited displays shall include, but not be limited to, any transvestite and/or transgender exposure, performances or display to any minor.

(l)(o) "Parent" includes a biological or adoptive parent, legal guardian, or legal custodian. (underlining this one for the legal side note that remember that custodian language from before??? that's where this kicks in)

(m)(p) "Person" means any adult, partnership, firm, association, corporation, or other legal entity.

(n)(q) "Sexually explicit conduct" means a ultimate definitive sexual act, normal or perverted, between persons of the same or opposite sex, actual or simulated, including genital-genital, oral-genital, anal-genital, or oral-anal sexual intercourse, sodomy, oral copulation of any kind, sexual bestiality, sexual sadism and masochism, masturbation, excretory functions and lewd exhibition of the anus, genitals or pubic area of any person, or lascivious simulated sexual intercourse where the genitals, breast, or pubic area of any person is exhibited.

okay. well.

I mean. This is all just gonna be an absolute garbage hellscape if this gets passed. THE IMPORTANT THING IS IT HAS NOT BEEN PASSED. If you live in WV, you can call folks and say that you are AGAINST the passage of SB197. Call your state or county representatives! They are the people who vote on this! If your representative is on the Judiciary Committee, so much the better, that’s where the bill is being evaluated right now!!! Here is the list of delegates on the committee! Call them!! Make a point to be upset!!! Explain why you don’t want this bill to pass!!! Keep an eye on the Committee website for the dates that the public hearings will be held on this bill, because there likely will be a public hearing people can speak at!! You CAN actually do something, it’s not the end of the world.

Even if you do not live in WV and you live NEAR WV, then 100% reach out to folks you know who live there and give them a safe space to land if they need to get out of the state!!! There are things you can do. Just….a heads up to everyone that this is on the table and it’s something they’re going to be discussing.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

mtf barty? i don’t think i’ve ever seen that before, color me intrigued

she goes by Bee mostly. it’s feminine enough for her liking but in her mind got a badass edge to it due to the sting factor which she likes a lot. she started growing out her hair starting high school and was always the weird loner kid with the long-ish hair, dark clothes sitting alone at lunch with a fuckin pocket knife leering at everyone that came too close. so much fucking rage and resent in her body it makes her physically look sick, pale skin, always dark shadows under her eyes. junior year she came out and obviously that was a fucking mess. she keeps getting sent to the principals office/into detention for starting fights or mouthing off at other students being transphobic. obviously the arguments with her dad only get worse from then on out to the point where Bee punches walls and shit, destroys picture frames or like stuff in Bartemius’ office and he gets all up in her face about it

warning for child abuse, misgendering/deadnaming kind of (and general trans and homophobia) uuh and knife violence but like no cutting

“Stop, Barty!” her father roars just as Bee picks another picture frame off his desk and volleys it into the corner of the room. “I said Stop!”

“Or fuckin’ what?” Bee spits, temples throbbing with anger, “You already treat me like scum! How’s it supposed to get any worse around here?!”

She blinks furious tears out of her eyes, breaking his gaze to look for something else to let her emotions out at. Before Bee has the opportunity to get her hands on something else Bartemius is there, fingers clasped harshly around her biceps. “You keep doing that and see where it gets you.”

His voice is dark and it reminds Bee of the few months after her mum died.

Her father would come home late from whatever shit hole bar he drank himself half to unconsciousness after work. Bee would microwave the leftover dinner and make sure he’d fall asleep sideways on the couch. Unless he came with questions. Half delirious, a tennis match of back and forth between What did you get on your English test? and Where’s your mother? and Why not full score? and Why do you always wear your hair so long? You look dirty. Like a queer. And he’d work himself up, get angry until he’d backhand Bee across the face if she made the mistake of standing too close.

But Bee isn’t 14 anymore and she’s frankly at her fucking limit.

Today they’re about the same height. “You don’t scare me anymore,” she growls, trying to tug free.

They both jostle in place but Bartemius’ grip is iron resolute.

A muscle in her father’s jaw flutters, “You’ve lost all respect. So long as your under my roof you listen to my rules, son.”

His words are like embers to the gasoline mess that’s burning in Bee’s bloodstream.

“I’m not your fucking son!” she rips her elbow back with enough force to make him stumble and just as quickly throws her arm back out hitting her fist right against his cheek.

Bartemius’ head whips around at the impact as he staggers back and onto his desk and Bee has to suppress the violent urge to pick up the chair next to her and throw it after him as well. A strand of hair is stuck in her mouth, fringe fallen into her eyes, and her chest heaves up and down with the absolute frustration boiling inside her.

Her father rolls his jaw, swiveling to glare back at her. “Now that wasn’t very ladylike, was it?”

Before she knows it Bee has reached into her back pocket and flipped out the blade of her pocket knife, held precisely against the aorta of Bartemius’ throat. “You’re just bitter you got your shit rocked by a girl.”

“Careful.” Her father growls, tone warning but Bee is done listening.

“Leave me alone or watch yourself choke on your dinner on a random Thursday night from rat poisoning,” Bee hisses, shoving the blade deeper before turning on her heel and storming out. One more second in his presence and she would find herself with a one way ticket into juvie.

[corpsentry]

i have derailed myself. down terrible for shaoshang xinghancanlan lltg and speedrunning both parts as fast as possible with my mother. we um. binged 30 episodes in the last five days………….. me when the hetero period drama is treated not like a trashy ya novel where everyone has big eyes small face (listening to 银河漫漫盼归期 on the bus to jb like a weirdo) it is hard to put into words the sheer kind of resignation i have approached the xianxia/wuxia/general chinese period drama genre with for the past few years as after cql and woh we watched love between fairy and devil and til the end of the moon and who rules the world and dawg that shit made me Cry…. after much thought i have come to the realization that i have a personal vendetta against stories that only progress because there are 1) evil characters and 2) stupid characters i.e. there is blinding frustrating cheek gnawing cruelty askance but that shit just keeps looping because the protagonists are sooooo nice — that is to say, STUPID AS BALLS— and don’t assert themselves. xinghancanlan (and the drama we finished just before, xihuazhi (blossoms into adversity (dogshit english localized titles, i sob)) is so incredibly fucking refreshing on a basic storytelling level because it doesn’t linger. no misery porn (see: love between fairy and devil, til the end of the moon), no dragging out the jealous cousin who keeps torturing the protag and co, instead the plot! just! keeps! moving! it’s got places to go! and it motherfucking goes to them. god i want to eat til the end of the moon’s flashbacks alive anyway (separate story, very long) xinghancanlan also does so many levels of character storytelling and it does it like HELL the amount of care given to each parent child relationship in particular lord i haven’t seen a parent child relationship written with such nuance and care in a long time, if ever, as the one between shaoshang and her mom there is no villain!!! everything is terrible!!!! art imitates reality. and then you get her and her dad, ling buyi and the whole situation going on over there, the emperor, even wang ling’s family— these are not archetypes. they’re people. and that’s so nice. that the homies over there produced a show that lingers not on the agonizing nail ripping sobfests but on how hard it is to be a person

and then there is the fact of the production itself. not to fist my own ass or pat this one’s but this show approaches scene writing and transitions the way i approach my own writing and i have never seen that in any tv series let alone a chinese period drama where girl meets guy and it goes so FUCKIN HARD. i give example. character A and B gossip about character C for a brief period. “C is such a whiny bitch,” B says (this is a close-up shot). cut immediately to a close-up shot of C whining to D, and then one of D replying. just like that we have transitioned between place, time, and characters with this kind of fun witty filmography and writing that makes it feel like this scene is a continuation of the last due to the same style of face to face interrogation. but we are in an entirely different place

or, abruptly there is a scene of violence and brutality yet unseen in the show. it fades to black, and character H shudders awake at her desk. “i just had a terrible dream,” she says. but the scene after that is a continuation of the violence and brutality of earlier and we come to realize that this is very much a real moment in the story. the audience has been played by an inverse ‘it was just a dream’. it was not just a dream. even though it was shocking and gruesome. the story is moving to new places now

and more generally, the score reminds me so strongly of beijing opera with the way the music describes and foreshadows minute gestures; shifting eyes, a tic in the left hand, the slightest drop of one’s shoulders. there are new and interesting, relevant, thought provoking transitions in each scene. the framing of shots emphasizes specific character emotions and mental scapes. and shanjian is an emotionally repressed loser. it’s just so. so. (howling for 85 years). fucking dazzling to see a piece of art that has clearly been made with such care, my guys. and also is fun to watch. and is obviously having fun itself. i am reminded of the ways in which art can save people’s hearts as this saves mine. and shaoshang makes me want to cry, is such a hot mess and not at all one, gives so few shits and altogether too many, is just learning how to hold the love that others give her without trying to call it something else-/ she is so tender. i’m throw myself off a cliff right now. all day i have been wandering around jb muttering to myself about the beautiful and good things in the world. it can change your life to see someone smile even if it is fictional character cheng shaoshang from xinghancanlan. cannot stop thinking about this damn show. thank u for listening

[somefanficrecomendations]

April Monthly Recap

I’m back! I took some time off to finish out the semester and get my life back in order and I’m finally able to post again. I’ve barely had time to post about fics, let alone read them, so this month’s recap is a month late. But hey, better late than never?

BATMAN

Plato's Allegory of the Batcave by hppjmxrgosg (gen), 2k, Dick Grayson Character Study “So who do you think was the angstiest Robin?” Stephanie asked. In which Dick Grayson contemplates what Robin meant to him, what it means to everyone else, and how he has to reconcile the two. OR I get my filthy hands on one (1) Dick Grayson and shake him until a character analysis falls out.

Hat Off to the Bats by dietpudding (gen), 6k, Crack Treated Seriously "I've identified a pattern in the frequency of Mad Hatter's previous breakouts. Data shows he's more likely to stay put after he scores a new hat." "Go on." Steph perks up in her seat. Now that she knows to look for it, she can easily spot the manic twink to his eye that Tim gets whenever he's about to act a little unhinged. "I like where this is going." Tim's lips twist into a mischievous grin. "How comfortable are we with ghostwriting a heist?" "Extremely comfortable," Steph replies with an equally roguish smirk.

Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns) (gen), 8k, Time Loop Tim is hunched over his computer, bouncing between a report for B (Batman, not Bruce) and a spreadsheet for B (Bruce, not Batman) when Jason stumbles into the cave. If it weren’t for the fact that Jason had been in a somewhat good mood lately, Tim probably would have been a little more concerned about this fact. Still, it’s weird when, instead of ignoring Tim’s existence like he usually does, Jason walks over to him directly and says, “I'm in a time loop and I don't know why. Fix it."

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio (gen), 8k, Paperwork, Humor (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Shark Week by heartslogos  (gen), 2k, AU-Mermaid "Do you have a tail? That'd be cool." Bart says, "If you had a tail. Could we give you a sea-shell bra?"

DCU

myself and this body that they stuck me in by misspickman Superboy, (multi), 14k, Non-Binary Kon-El “Oh,” Bart says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You look so pretty.” “I look like a girl,” he rebuts. He's not sure why he's even continuing this conversation. Bart, blissfully unaware of Kon's internal crisis, shrugs and says, “Well, I think you'd make a lovely girl.”

The Outlaws’ Guide to Parenting by Flowerparrish Pod Collabs (Flowerparrish), kbirb pods (kbirb), Opalsong (Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd), 4k, 40 mins, Podfic, Texting Roy: so you know how I had that fling with Chershire for a month or two a couple years ago? Roy: apparently the condom broke Kori: You have a child! Jason: of fucking course we're keeping her

SHERLOCK

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock (Multi), 118k, Female!Gregory Lestrade If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.