#go post… away into the abyss where maybe like two people will see you…

[danzainosolitude]

SPOILERS FOR MHA 430

Idk how to feel about the last mha chapter (via leaks). Society was barely changed, bakugou (despite having his arm fucked up) gets to be a higher ranked hero than Shouto, Deku becomes iron man after an eight year timeskip, and the one of the main themes of the story once again comes off as strange.

“You too can be a hero.”, to someone who pulls plates out of their hair. Even a couple pages before the narrator said only the strongest teenagers become heroes nowadays. That phrase only works when you’re about to bestow some loser with the strongest quirk ever Deku.

I had hoped Bakugou’s luck had run dry and he’d face problems that wasn’t him fighting his reflection, but raw favoritism wins over varied struggles I guess.

Uraraka, tsu, iida, and Momo hero team was pretty cool though. Mei’s timeskip design is great as well. Idk how the hell All Might’s still up and kicking without a fully functional stomach at like 63 but whatever. A height chart and character sheets for all the timeskip designs would be great! Horikoshi needs to be jailed for his hair decisions however…

Back on negative thoughts… why are hero rankings still a thing anyways. People will still become heroes purely for popularity, more Endeavors will pop up in the future, and your shitty vague placements are pissing me off!!! Show the whole damn chart!!! What was that thing with “resolving prejudice-based incidents peacefully trophy” bullshit with shoji??? You’ll never reach wide mutant acceptance if you just stand there and lecture people on why it’s bad!! You cut Aizawa’s hair??? Iida had something great going on and you fucked it up too!!! Was Deku drinking the fountain of youth during timeskip? He lowkey still looks fifteen… WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY DOING ABOUT CORRUPTION IN HERO SOCIETY! Is hero commission president Hawks supposed to fix all that??? Okay but Mei looks sooo fucking hot now😍! DID YOU GET A QUIRK AND DECIDE THAT YOU JUST DON’T ASSOCIATE WITH QUIRKLESS PEOPLE ANYMORE DEKU???

Biased rant focusing around Shoto starting here!

What do you mean Bakugou is above him in rankings. Why call out Shoto being kind to his fans if you’re going to glaze bakugou anyways. What about Toya! How did the family react to his death??? Did they put blended soba in his life tank??? What’s Shouto’s living situation???? Why is his hair still so short??? Is he dating anyone? Can we see any potential niece(s)/nephew(s)? Why the fuck is bakugou still ranked higher?? Is endeavor dead?? Is rei still his designated wheelchair driver for some reason??? Did Shouto take over his agency?? A significant amount of his appeal has been lost because of that fuck ass hair!!! Why cut it that short?? Why do you keep making terrible decisions Horikoshi????? WHY ARE DEKU BAKUGOU AND FUCKIGN BEST JEANIST ON THE SAME ELVEL AS ENDEAVOR AND ALL MIGHT?!?? DO YOU JUST HATE SHOUTO????? He does have a really nice jawline though… IS SAVING A WHOLE CITY FROM NOT BURNING DOWN NOT ENOUGH TO WARRANT HIGH RECOGNITION??????? IT WAS ON CAMERA TOO!! SHOULD HE HAVE SLAUGHTERED HIS VILLAIN AND SAY HE SAVED THE DAY?!?! BALUGOU IS BORN WITH FUCKING EVERYTHING!!! LUCK STRENGTH MONEY LOOKS AND FAVORITISM!!!!! SHOUTO SUFFERS HIS WHOLE LIFE, WORKS HIS ASS OFF, RESISTED EVIL LONG ENOUGH TO NOT BECOME A TERRORIST, RISKED HIS LIFE FOR DABI AND THE BITCH STILL DIED, HIS ABUSIVE ASS DAD GOT OFF SCOT FREE IN TERMS OF SOCIETAL BACKLASH, HIS FAMILY BARELY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HIM ACCORDING TO 428, HE HAS BEEN KIND TO EVERYONE EVEN IF THEY HURT HIM, AND HE DOESN’T EVEN GET TO HANG OUT WITH HIS SUPPORT SYSTEM A LOT NOW!!!!

In conclusion, I am upset with this ending. Please endorse an All Might prequel movie to satiate me.

[dark-raven-666]

For the homicipher men falling in love you made..may I ask if you will make a part 2 was really getting all giddy seeing your post but then mr.hood wasn't there 😭 man deserves some love too

Homicipher x reader (gn) headcanons.

How they love p 2

Warnings: Mr Hugeface is toxic

✧༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻✧

Mr. Hood

When he first met you he felt like needed to protect you, like you were a tiny creature that was so helpless and needed him.

He never expected you to come back and thank him each time.

"Thanking me? Why? "

It seems that no one there is kind or even grateful, he's never been thanked. It feels nice, warm.

Then you do it again, and again, and again.

He expected you to leave, use his help and never come back, but you did.

As the rest he never realizes what love is bit he feels protective of you.

Mr Crawling is too weak and Mr machete runs away. He's the only one capable of protecting you

Mr. Machete

Now this guy can't handle weaklings or kind soft people, sorry not sorry.

If you can't keep up with him and fight why would he bother with you?

Now let's say you can fight. He's intrigued. Very intrigued.

It takes you very long time even land a hot on him but when you do.. His heart goes doki doki and he immediately respects you (loves you)

He will demand to fight again and each time you win he will be bashful instead of upset.

Wow you got a hit on THE Mr machete.

Mr. Silvair

You're a human in the ghost realm so you've already got his attention.

He wants to research you and push you to your limits.

He does ask for consent to work on you but if you get violet you're ending up like Mr chopped.

He has clear boundaries and needs you to understand that he is stronger than you. You're the subject, he's the researcher.

Now if you get through all of that he'll be kind enough to give you anesthesia when researching.

One day you wake up with an actual heart on your bedside table. That's his gratitude. Never mention it again or he'll never love you again.

From then on he considers you two lovers and will sometimes give you small smiles as he works and teach you stuff.

Mr. Hugeface.

Tiny human, so fun, so cute.

Literally incapable of love only obsession.

If you're kind enough to obey him and be his little doll. Be obedient in your room maybe he'll get you a few gifts, a book or two.

He's so childish and will throw a tantrum if his doll is not perfect. How dare you have messy hair!?

Will get you clothes and style your hair like you're a Barbie.

That's your life now eternally. You're a doll. And perfect dolls are always pretty and happy.

All throughout toxic.

Mr. Stitch

This man is perfect for maladaptive daydreamers.

You met him when he took you from Mr Crawling, well kidnapped you, but when you get in that bus, you travel in the abyss with him.

Ever since then, that became you two's favorite hobby. To get on the bus, share stories, cuddle a bit, he will Yap to no end and tell you of his adventures and how he plans to take you on many!

He shows love by making you little things, like old cloth you found? It's a dress now. He isn't called Mr stitch for no reason.

You were heitamt at first but then the world of daydreams and the abyss with no stress takes you like a dream.

You love him just as much.

He thinks you're a fun person who treats him well and laughs with him.

Most of your time is spent giggling at his jokes and he likes that.

No matter where or when he picks you up, when he does you're going to adventure.

[torgawl]

continuing my crepus posting, can we just talk about his delusion for a second? because even dottore thought it was unique. dottore was surprised for seeing someone wielding a delusion, sure, i assume it's not everyday you see that especially in that situation. that's normal, but saying specifically that it piqued his interest, calling it "perfect and utterly peerless", encouraging diluc to grow stronger and saying "i can see a bright future ahead of you"? a bit weird. so this got me thinking, what if this delusion is different than other delusions?

as we can see from the webtoon panel of crepus wielding it, there's two things about the delusion that we haven't seen associated to any others so far: chains and what seems like an alchemy circle. this delusion doesn't just hold elemental power, it can create something (or transform/manifest the power into something physical). we read somewhere someone referring to the delusion fire as "black flames" so probably the chains are embued in that power but the chains themselves don't look like fire. another curious detail about crepus' delusion is the way it interacts with ursa the drake, besides being the only thing able to drive the dragon away, it changed its eye colour from yellow to red! when the delusion finally backfired onto crepus, we can see that the air and diluc's hands after touching his father seem to fill with black dust. and maybe this is nothing, i mean, fire burns and what is burnt generally releases ashes but dust can also be tracked down to alchemy, more specifically the art of khemia (an advanced form of alchemy that sustained the underground kingdom of khaenri'ah). and do you know what's also different in crepus' delusion specifically? the symbol that appears on the orb.

unlike other delusions, it isn't the fatui symbol (or the elemental symbol, like the one visions have) but instead a big circle with a small circle inside it. that's literally the symbol that appears in alchemy tables!!! if you look at it attentively, it looks like a big circle was parted into three and they go around it like orbits. and is it a coincidence that three is a constant number appearing in genshin, including associated to three beings that are always drawn with similar symbols everywhere across the game, three moon sisters - a representation of the moon?

because there's other instances of circles within a circle drawn in the game. it reminds me of an eclipse like the one shown in abyssal moon spire (easily connected to the eclipse dynasty of khaenri'ah where the crimson moon was replaced by a black sun), the moon depicted in tsurumi island (that from what i understand got its hole after kapatcir descended) and the crimson moon that became an eye in perinheri (book about the crimson dynasty in khaenri'ah - the one that preceded the eclipse dynasty). khaenri'ah and alchemy possibly being tied to crepus' delusion doesn't sound so crazy anymore, right?

the insistence that crepus was a "mere businessman" by eroch and that being the reason they couldn't let the people know he saved everyone from ursa the drake (which led to diluc's resignation) also sounds like the perfect little detail to throw for some sort of plot-twist. yes, this is mostly my wishful thinking but also, what if crepus really wasn't just a business man? diluc got his "red dead of night" outfit from his father who had a ceremonial uniform tailored for diluc in advance and diluc modified it for battle. maybe that's where the resemblances with the fatui come from, as a way to go unnoticed or mix in during his time hunting the fatui. at least it's easy to discard it as something deeper that way. but i don't think it's such a crazy idea anymore to think of something crazier when we consider the ragnvindr's connections to the hexenzirkel (the teapots and diluc's jacket patterns being the same as the ones in the hexenzirkel cutscenes) and the fact kaeya was left purposefully at dawn's winery. again, maybe it could just be because the ragnvindr are a prestiged family but also, what if there's something else here? is it that impossible?

[eluxcastar]

Hi there, how are you? Could I request Pierro and the Little One on each other birthdays? This could a headcanon thing or a short story thing, I don’t mind!

I’m rather new to tumblr and haven’t had many interactions with others, so I’m not well acquainted yet with the culture, so if there’s like an unwritten rule I broke (I’ve read through your written rules dw) I hope you’ll pardon me!

I won’t bother you more than I have to, have a nice day you! :D

-Greenhorn anon

Papa Pierro on baby's birthday

── ୨୧：pierro & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: birthdays are special for most little kids, and you are certainly no exception to that, even when it isn't your own birthday.

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, someone take cake away from this kid, not proofread because I'm allergic

୨୧﹑words :: 1390

ok first of all this is adorable second of all you're fine bb cause if you broke any unwritten rules I sure don't know em and third of all not one of you motherfuckers have a dad /j

I'm kidding I'm kidding but if I actually did my requests in order this would be the fourth papa pierro part do y'all want me to put them all in one place for you to find easily or something if I make more

all papa pierro posts

 your birthday is always a special day of the year, the days leading up to it are lonely and you sit around wondering if your beloved papa will really be home for your birthday, because he's always ridiculously busy around that time of year specifically for some reason.

without fail, Pierro is always home on your birthday for you to wake up to him and spend the entire day with him, as little do you realise he spends the days leading up to your birthday working overtime in order to clear enough of his workload in advance to take the whole day off to spend with you. he doesn't share this with you solely as he doesn't see the point in it, he knows that regardless of if he has to spend many long nights with you left in the care of a babysitter the year he leaves you alone on your birthday is the day he spends it in the afterlife because nothing is stopping this man from making it home for your birthday let alone paperwork and a few minor incidents that needed his attention. nobody causes trouble unless they're so far outside of Pierro's jurisdiction that they don't risk facing that kind of wrath.

however, back with you Pierro is returned to simply being your Father, with absolutely zero responsibilities and cares aside from making sure you have fun and get to eat all the cake you want so you can go to bed sick and complaining of a tummy ache.

obviously the sore stomach you get out of it is not ideal, though you coming to him arms grabbing at the air to be picked up is a plus side of that as it means you usually are about ready to settle down and just cuddle on the couch for a while.

sometimes you find some restraint, to maybe save some cake to take to school with you and maybe even share, but you've barely gotten to the part where you don't eat half of it yourself and try to feed the other half to him so sharing with other people is a bit of a silly pipe dream. obviously he doesn't eat that other half of the cake but in his absence you certainly will within another day or two, thankfully the first time he figured that out he then made sure to get a smaller cake to save you from sugar overdose.

like a kid at Christmas he leaves all your presents out for you, usually collected the previous days from your school friends or from other Harbingers or fatuus who gave them to Pierro to forward to you, often your former and current babysitters or those you meet in the course of being babysat who pick up little trinkets for you to enjoy, including old objects you find interest in in Pulcinella's quarters or Tartaglia's interesting idea of 'toys' like that one time he got his hands on the staff of an abyss made having seen your plush toy more times than one.

you treasured that one too much for it to go to the pile of questionable presents which were mysteriously lost.

also never in the pile though to his slight dismay at the sheer amount of them you managed to gather over the years is Sandrone's handmade presents — usually toys or dolls. her skill makes her like the cool aunt of your birthday. on the same side of things you treasure your most interesting presents come from Scaramouche who finds you fairly harmless objects during his trips to the abyss which he's sure considering your possibly natural infatuation with it that you'll enjoy them.

this also so happens to be your struggle on Pierro's birthday as many will give him courteous gifts but not put a whole lot of thought into it until you come knocking, using one of the many days you're inevitably being babysat in order to find and harass one of his attendants into taking you out under the guise of you wanting food and her not having time nor ingredients to make it for you. your trips to the market are usually fine like this as you find something you're very convinced your Papa will like.

regardless of what it is, his attendant still accompanying you knows he will, not necessarily because it was something Pierro needed or particularly wanted but because it was your little hands that gave it to him with a big smile and a happy birthday.

truthfully he ordinarily would probably never spare a second glance at the gift you got him, because it's not exactly high on his list of wants. he knows about your little adventures getting it, and from watching you pick out other gifts that you do have at least some method to your little spell of madness, so you must've put thought into it. but what makes it different from some random item is that you gifted it to him, and that along takes that from useless junk to a priceless treasure.

his birthdays are not as important to him, though you spend some of the day home together. you eat a nice warm meal and give him the present which you surely spent a lot of time on picking as he's very thankful for it, and he likes it a lot. it's enough to make you quite proud of yourself for your gift picking skills. there's no cake, though you both may go out and buy a single slice of cake each to eat. if he lets you have too much cake more than once a year you may develop too much of a sweet tooth.

the only reason he celebrates at all is because you still get excited about his birthday, not yet quite understanding that he's celebrated so many of them that he's not exactly thrilled by them anymore, but maybe you being there in recent years made things different and he makes it the one time of year he'll open a bottle of wine gifted to him by Pantalone and drink a glass or two once you're fast asleep in bed before promptly hiding it far out of your reach or sight.

many nights on his birthday and yours he will end up reading to you for what is possibly hours at your request, usually because he goes to all of that effort of tucking you in and getting you settled then suddenly gets quite lonely with you all the way over in the other room. usually he tries to limit how many you get to hear because otherwise you'll be asking for more books into the early hours of the morning. sometimes you get to go sleep in his bed, especially on your respective birthdays however as it feels like he should be able to spend at least one night cuddling you like he did when you were even younger and not yet ready to have a room to yourself, or when you come running in snivelling because you had a nightmare or got scared. just one, that's all. he'll gladly go back to what must be an exorbitant amount of tasks for one man to handle tomorrow so long as he gets to spend just one night with you curled up in his arms for a while. the night is usually his only time to spend with you, so this one feels special knowing it followed a day spent almost entirely with you.

even if you hadn't gotten a gift for him however, he'd be more than pleased with just hearing your every breath by his side, watching your little hands tired as they point at pictures in the book he reads not quite fully aware of what you're doing, that damn abyss mage plush that you love to death safely under your arm. every sign that you are alive and still with him, it's wonderful. sure you might've called that fluffy cat a dog and maybe that isn't the noise birds make at all, but that doesn't matter too much.

you tire yourself out way too much over his birthday, it has his heart melting over the fact that anyone, let alone his beloved child, would be excited enough to make him count down the days to his own birthday again.

[cherry-queens-blog]

(Minors DNI)

Note: in this story you start off a homeless kid, hungry and nowhere to go. You end up meeting Gyutaro and his sister Daki and get taken in by them. (There will be a part 2 to this, I got light headed while typing this story out but i should have it posted up soon).

Warning: Blood, and Cannibalism.

I WANT YOU

It was about 11:00 at night and everybody was out and about scrolling the streets buying food, clothes, going into the whore houses to get laid, spending time with friends and their families while you sat in a dark ally homeless, starving, no where to go. you began to hear a slight ruckus from further into the dark ally. the sound of two people fighting echoed through the dark abyss when one goes quiet but two more voices could still be heard chattering away from the black darkness.

"No way brother I want to eat it!" A female voice says as a male voice followed after hers.

"I killed him so he's mine!"

You get up to investigate it coming across a dead man laying on the ground his arm laying next to him detached from his body. Your stomach rumbled, you were so hungry you couldn't help it you wanted something to eat so bad and anything at this point will have to do. You walk over picking up the mans arm, sitting down next to his body and sank your teeth into the flesh tearing it off, chowing down on the fresh flesh in your little hands completely ignoring the two who had killed this man. It wasn't great but you were to hungry to care, this will have to do as it is better then having nothing to eat at all when the women spots you taking their meal.

"Brother look"

The women says pointing her finger at you as you take another bite of the flesh. He turns and sees you thinking you must be a demon like them but you didn't smell like one nor did you look it either, you seemed human, however you were taking their food and they were not entirely happy about it not in the slightest. The women brings out a long strand of her belt and send it your way cutting your shoulder pretty deep causing you to let out a light scream dropping the mans arm, placing your hand onto your shoulder as blood seeped out of the wound when you look up to see a thin man with spots decorating his pale rough skin now directly in your face.

"I believe you have what is ours"

he says as your heart basically dropped into your starving stomach seeing him and hearing his cackling voice, he wasn't human at all, his eyes a bight yellow color that felt as if they stared into your soul, smothering it in despair.

"I'm sorry, I was really hungry. I don't have any food"

you tell him now holding your little shaking hands to your chest looking down at the ground. You were kind of thin yourself, your stomach growling more as this thing stared at you for a moment with such a harsh gaze, a twisted smile that showed his sharp pointed teeth. His harsh gaze soon fading away his smile turning into a slight frown when you started to remind him of himself a little bit.

"HEY I HAVE AN IDEA! why don't you stay with us huh? my name is Gyutaro and that's Daki or... I could just kill you and rip you apart and devour you instead"

He says in a cackled tone. You agree to stay with them and as you agree to it Gyutaro gives you back the mans arm to feed on patting you on the head with his hand lightly as Daki disapproved of his words wondering why he is going to allow a useless human to stay with them? and what on earth he was going to do with you exactly she thinks to herself but there isn't much she can do to stop this from happening since you did agree to this and Gyutaro is the one that has the say in everything after all. Gyutaro stays with you for days soon turning into months in this underground area that had human bones laying all over the place. He wanted to get to know you better which is why he spent most of his time with you and taking care of you and daki, maybe even try to convince you to become a demon since you already had no issues eating another human already and he loved that, that's what caught his attention mostly and why he chose to allow you to stay with them if you wanted. He brings you parts from what's left over from his kills, taking off pieces of flesh handing it to you for you to feast on sharing his food with you while patting your head as you ate while daki came down with rice, soup, and a iced drink for you only to find you eating another humans body part with her brother.

"SHE NEEDS TO EAT REGULAR HUMAN FOOD NOT OUR FOOD BROTHER!"

She shouts but he just shrugs giving you another piece of flesh while ignoring her. Daki sets the food down on the small table then crosses her arms over her chest glaring at him for ignoring what she said and feeding you their food and not what you should be eating. Your little eyes caught sight of the food that daki brought down but you usually turned your head to it but maybe you should at least try it, you were just so used to eating what gyutaro gave you. You felt a little curious, getting up from the floor walking over to the food feeling unsure of it but you sit down at the table and daki sits next to you handing you chop sticks, helping you with them teaching you how to use them so you can eat heathier. You try it and the taste was absolutely amazing on your taste buds, this food was delicious and much better then what Gyutaro brought you for months. Chowing down on the food enjoying every tasty bite until all of it was gone along with the drink. You let out a small yawn getting back up and walking back over to Gyutaro sitting down in his lap cuddling up to him closing your little eyes shut as he holds you close to him setting a blanket over you so you didn't get cold while you took a nap. Daki takes the dishes back up giving them to those who are in charge of cleaning.

"Make sure these are spotless along with everything else!"

She yells at them before walking away. Gyutaro tells you stories as you fall asleep in his lap, you had really grew on him and he loved you just as much as his sister, the only difference is you were quiet and very mellow a lot of the times. Years soon pass by, you had become an adult now being 20 years old and training with gyutaro through out those years. When night hit you went out exploring a little in the woods looking for any small animals that would be out so you could practice your hunting skills that Gyutaro had taught you. Hopping from tree to tree until you spot one finally now chasing after it pulling a blade from your pocket and chucking it at the animal piercing it through the head killing it instantly, the excitement filled you as you couldn't wait to show Gyutaro what you managed to do. You down from the tree you were on running over to the animal picking it up off the ground when Gyutaro walks up behind you, little did you know he was following you this entire time watching you work on your hunting skills he taught you.

"well I guess I trained you well"

He says scratching deep wounds into his neck while making you jump. You had no idea he was with you this entire time. He chuckles a little as you turn around sharing a nice cute smile at him while showing him your kill. Gyutaro pulls the blade out handing it back to you, taking it from his hand and placing it back into your pocket. He felt proud of you for improving on your abilities when you look down to the ground.

"Can I ask you something Gyu?"

He looks at you knowing something was wrong.

"Of course, you can ask me anything Y/N"

You gulp down your spit making nervousness overly noticeable to him dropping your kill on the ground, your body started to shake a little as the nervousness made you feel like your stomach shifted it felt almost like you were being suffocated.

"Uh... Umm. I was wondering something really, I've been around you for like years now and I really want to stay with you for ever."

Gyutaro looks at you a bit confused, Like aren't you living with them already forever? Are you asking him to become a demon now? what are you trying to say exactly. You notice he's a bit confused by what you said when he breaks the silence.

"Are you wanting to become a demon now?"

He asks with a smile ready to slash your arm so he can spill his blood into your wound but his smile fades when you shake your head no to him before looking at him again.

"No Gyu, What I'm saying is, I wanna be with you, like I wanna be a couple, I would like to date you, if you don't mind"

His face lights up in absolute shock hearing each word spill from your lips like it was water running down a hill. He couldn't believe what he just heard from you and just didn't know how to respond to it but he really couldn't tell you no. His heart races when he feels your soft hands run across his face, watching you lean in close until he felt your soft lips meet his, eyes widened feeling completely stunned, your lips were like a dose of a drug to him as he places his hands on your hips pulling you closer as he shuts his eyes after the shock faded away. Sliding one hand up your back, his heart was still racing but it was a moment he won't forget now embracing this moment before the kiss ended.

[spicehill]

a few post 2.5 characterization notes.

obvious spoilers? yea.

okay so admittedly I am typing this while still pretty darn sick, so if something doesn't make sense grammatically i am actually begging you to point it out to me so I can fix it when i'm not Dying lmao. but here we go:

as I've said in a few places in the server, I'm really not in love with the fact that hoyo's taken away jiaoqiu's ability to see as a consequence of his poisoning when he was already dealing with the loss of his sense of taste in the last thirty years. like just make him deaf too at this point smh -- but forreal ok let's discuss jiaoqiu's current condition and what he is and isn't doing re: lingsha's orders.

the state of jiaoqiu's vision.

tl;dr, it's severely impaired but not completely gone.

lingsha's report describes it as "function blindness", ie. legal blindness, suggesting he still has some ability to see, but it is impaired profoundly enough that even corrective lenses don't do much to help. I'm choosing to interpret this as difficulty discerning people and his environment clearly at a distance greater than two feet, but still some ability to see with some detail (color, clear shapes and features, text, etc.) when something or someone is within twelve inches of his face. this would explain his ability to still use his phone, though I'd imagine he's relying slightly more on accessibility features as trying to type a reply with the phone screen right in his face is probably. quite taxing. when you're further away from him, he can make out a rough shadow of where you are, how tall you are, and so on. so, if he really needs to see something, he can like... get right up close to it, I suppose.

because of this impairment ( and a dash of trauma lmao ), I'm hard-pressed to think he's willingly going to go anywhere without someone he knows and trusts escorting him, unless he wound up there by mistake. see: his theory for how he wound up where he is in the current abyss event, kinda just stumbled in here and got separated from the rest of the yaoqing squad.

the state of jiaoqiu's diet.

yeah, sorry, you can peel the spices out of his cold dead hands. lingsha's report insists on him cutting spice out of his diet for the sake of ongoing nerve damage, though at his age and with how little he really enjoys in life, it doesn't seem like he's taking her guidance 100% seriously. the hotpot text messages suggest he may actually be trying to branch out to more balanced ( and less exclusively spicy ) dishes, so perhaps he's cutting back, but not cutting the spice completely as ordered. also unlikely he'll stay out of the kitchen and away from knives, but maybe he'll ask for some help with that, too.

the state of jiaoqiu's overall wellbeing.

he'll be the first to tell you that he's already an old fox -- all of this is a little astounding, still being here at all. I don't think he planned on surviving to see if his efforts to cure feixiao with hoolay's heart were successful -- and though he says he's content and has no regrets with her non-answer to the status of her condition, I think that was said more for her sake than saying the truth of how he feels. a lot of jiaoqiu's dynamic with feixiao seems to have that in their history -- saying what needs to be heard instead of what is actually believed.

lingsha's report makes it sound like he's in about of good as spirits as he always is, which is to say: pleasant, polite, managing, eager to try some more food lmao. probably subduing some underlying pain with whatever he can put together himself and whatever the alchemists on the luofu think might help as well.

I think some small part of him realizes he'd be more content being gone and not knowing if hoolay's heart was the cure she needed, as opposed to this current reality: living to sense that it was the right cure, but it somehow... didn't work. and honestly, her not getting cured is probably the lesson his master intended all along; does failure make the last fifteen to twenty years at her side pointless? probably not.

but the whole issue of what his master wanted him to learn, oof....... that's a discussion for another day! and maybe another time completely. several months or even years from now.

I don't think the story of the yaoqing trio is over just yet, and I do think we'll see more of them in the future -- hopefully, with jiaoqiu's vision returning in full ( before he keels over of old age, that is 😉)

[pics-and-fanfics]

Drugs of Love, Love of Drugs (part 25!)

Pairing: Loki x Druggie!Reader (getting close to it!)

Warnings: angst, self-deprecation (both Y/n and Loki), violence towards an innocent wall…

Summary: You wander off after leaving the police station, and Loki goes back to the tower, feeling guilty.

A/N: Please do not read if this is a sensitive topic/if this triggers you. I don’t want to bring anyone down, so please don’t read past this point if any of this makes you uncomfortable.

Ps: let me know if I’m missing any of my usual tags, I’m posting this at school on my phone 😭

You can find my other works on my Masterlist here! Series Masterlist can be found here!

You walked down the street, keeping your face down. You only looked immediately in front of you, but even then, you didn’t really care anymore.

How did Micheal find out? How? You sure as hell didn’t talk in your sleep, he would have told you- right?

You felt yourself start to spiral, but there was nothing you could to to stop it as anxiety ran rampant in your chest, making your throat close up and eyes water, making your hands shake and your steps falter.

Of course he wouldn’t have told you, he’d use it against you, just like he just did.

You were so angry. You had been so, so careful, and it had all been for nothing. NOTHING!

Rage beat its way into your heart, making your heart beat beat beat faster faster faster, harder harder harder, hurt hurt hurt, masking the feeling of failure that you didn’t quite feel now, but would later.

Hurt was all Loki could feel. Pain pain pain as you walked away from him, the image of your tear stained cheeks burned into his mind.

What had he done? Did- Did Loki just make it worse, had he just unintentionally undone everything you’d worked towards these last three months?

💊

You didn’t know where you were, but did you really care? Did you really want to go back to the tower, and be trapped again? Did you really want to have to pretend everything was fine, even though you could feel your whole world falling apart?

Were you even meant to see Estelle again?

Were you really going to try, when you knew the end result would only leave you in more pain?

💊

Loki was worried.

He’d gotten back to the tower almost two hours ago, and you were out there. Alone.

And it’s your fault, something in him whispered, and he put his head in his hands, sitting at the table.

This is all your fault, another whisper said.

Why do you even try? All you do is hurt people, yet another, each worse than the last.

You are meant to be alone, this is what you deserve.

A scream ripped out of his throat as he stood up, punching a hole in the wall next to him.

His heart was pounding, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t even move.

“I just wanted to help,” a soft whisper, lost in the dark of the small apartment, 5 words slipping from a set of lips before tumbling down into an abyss of pain.

“I didn’t want to hurt her.”

💊

You found yourself outside a homeless shelter you didn’t know how long later, but it had to have been hours.

Your feet hurt, your legs hurt, your head hurt.

But now, the rage from earlier was gone, and now all you could feel was like you were a failure, failing to protect your daughter, even though you weren’t there.

You were tired. So tired.

But-

But you knew how everything would go if you went inside. You’d be trapped, stuck in a schedule of eating, sleeping, and absolutely nothing else, only monotonous repetition, the same thing every day, day in, day out.

You weren’t that desperate. Not yet.

May- maybe you’d go back to the tower. Just for now. You wouldn’t stay, but you’d gather your thoughts- and your things- before you started looking for a job, then your own apartment.

💊

Well well well.

I hope you guys liked this chapter! I’m sorry this took so long, but hey! At least I got it done! I hope you wonderful people have an amazing day or night, I love you!

And don’t forget to let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist! ❤️

@vbecker10 @mochie85 @michelleleewise @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475 @huntress-artemiss  @sheris532 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @stupidthoughtsinwriting @crimson25 @peaches1958

[zorkaya-moved]

@frozenambiguity liked the post for a character drabble!

You remain sitting in your hotel room, legs crossed while sipping your favorite wine from Mondstadt. The Dawn Winery greeted you rather happily, knowing fully who you are and what you’ve been doing in the area. You are their helper, you are the doctor who helped the people, and you are the scholar studying medicine but also studying the Abyss to help the people of Teyvat.  Every other year you visit this place of freedom, chuckling to yourself when you want to call these fools out for their debauchery. Freedom, they say. And yet, you know they’re mistreating your brethren so cruelly. But you? Ah, you are the beloved medic after years of proving to them you’re not affiliated with the Fatui. How disgusting. It makes you think about all of the people you’ve met, witnessed and met up with. One of them makes you laugh, placing the wine glass down while leaning against the modest wooden table with your elbows. Don’t you have a dinner to attend with [HIM] today? 

Kaeya Alberich. The enigmatic Cavalry Captain with a sly smile and a beautiful mind. He is smart, he is quite delightful to see and to speak with. It makes one wonder how he views you right now. It’s obvious men of his intelligence would find you rather strange, suspicious in your own way through acting. But what exactly your lies hide? What is the lie? Where does the lie end and the truth begin? It’s been years since you started playing this pretty game of flirt and entertainment, humanity’s emotions and behaviors were her forte and so was strategizing to use them… use every one of them as an opportunity. Reputation, adoration, respect, and trust. Even if a knee had to be bent, even if apologies must’ve been said, even if acting as a goody-two-shoes was in order. It didn’t matter. How far can you go down this path? And how deep does Alberich’s own darkness go beneath the guise of that flirtatious and sweet smile of his? Akin to you, he is a fox and a snake at the same time. Isn’t it fun?

“He has such a pretty eye,” you say, knowing full well that no one but you will know the detrimental knowledge just one look at his pupil will give out. His brethren from Khaenri’ah saw you as their nightmare, even worse than other gods. All because you did not need anything but information and you were nothing but a human with a goal in your frigid mind. You were a human and you were cruel, but you never took pleasure in torture and extraction.  You didn’t care about their cries, you didn’t care about their begging, you didn’t care about who they were or how high they sat in the Abyss Order with their titles. They all end up in the same way: All become equal before Death. 

Cold, apathetic, and ambitious. Naturally, you will not reach out for Alberich’s eye as you know he will not be one to give you answers as his brethren from the Abyss Order would. He stands too high on the ladder of Mondstadt, you’re not here to make enemies with the land of the free. The ones who keep this small city afloat are a few, but they were holding this city away from Fatui just like that. They are useful in their own way, information flows through here easier than from Liyue; well, Liyue was Pantalone’s division. Not yours. 

“I wonder if his other one is injured or if it's missing. It would be nice to see both of them. Maybe it’s a different color. I’ve seen some of the cursed ones have different colors for both of their eyes.” You speak out loud, whispering and imagining what could be under that eyepatch. If you seduce him, will he let you see it? Who knows, oh who knows. He just might cut you down right then and there. He isn’t one to trust; you know a liar when you meet one as you are just the same. You are a snake, and he is a fox. It’s pretty ironic how both of you share a Cryo Vision. “He has a nice voice, a cooler touch, a tongue of silver, and a personality so befitting. It’d be a shame if I were to lose that connection, but  I wonder if he knows?”

Does he keep in touch with the Abyss Order? Does he still speak with them? Does he know what monster hides beneath the visage of the enigmatic lunar beauty? You are a layered beast, hiding your true self under blankets of snow where you sleep within the abyss of skeletons of those who had been killed, tortured, and used by you. Beasts, humans, monsters. No one escaped your touch, you aren’t sure if Death even wishes to greet you at this point after you almost met it in the Abyss. It made you think if Kaeya was similar in terms of survival. Does he need to hide his allegiance or does everyone know? It would be fun. It would be so much fun. What side was the Cavalry Captain on? The Khaneri’ah’s or the Mondstadt’s? Another tragedy will become a bard’s song in the lands of the free. You want to see the end of it, you want to witness if betrayal will color the city of freedom into red colors. Anything to entertain your apathetic frigid heart, huh? You are so bored from goody-two-shoes but is there truly saints in this world? Kaeya is certainly not one. So he wouldn’t be against a small time of blasphemy, correct? Your dinner awaits. Tempting him wouldn’t be something you didn’t think about. Perhaps, you should try and enjoy the evening while wondering if there will be poison in your cup. How fun.

“I wonder how your face will change when you learn the truth. Ah, truth seeker, if luck permits… You’d want to paint walls with my blood as many others. How will others react if you do not choose them? After all, Jean and Lisa are quite sweet maidens, aren’t they? So is Amber. Your brother… Hm~, maybe it will be a tale of brothers killing each other. Will my ‘storyteller theory’ work out after all?” You laugh as you get up, chugging the rest of your drink, yet it tastes like nothing. Your mind is filled with dances and the excitement happening today’s evening. Will you win a wonderful night, or will you both have a nice chat? Or will he forever wish to never affiliate himself with you? It doesn’t matter. For each result, you have another opportunity and another plan ready. “It’s time to get ready for dinner. I better look my best if… I want to have fun tonight.”

[ironemrys]

Finders Keepers | Namor x Filipino!Reader

Summary: Namor x Filipino!Reader. That's it. That's the plot... kind of.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Listen, this is for pure entertainment only. Don't take it too seriously- I sure didn't. I had fun writing this tbh. First ever Marvel fic I post on this website and it's this type of crap. Enjoy- or not. 

Italicized words are: 1.The Reader's/OC's thoughts and/or 2.Words that are supposed to be in a different language. P.S. I tried to use a Yucatec Mayan - English translator but decided against it last minute since I feared I would not do it any justice so I just opted to italicize when they're (Namor and the Talokanil) are using it to talk. Words in parenthesis are the translated Tagalog words. Sometimes they're loose translations because you can't just translate some terms from our language to English- let's just leave it at that. It's the thought that counts- I guess.

Also posted on AO3

It's not a good thing when you wake up in a strange place, surrounded by strange people. For our protagonist though, that's exactly what happened.

Where the fuck- 

Always a good start. As soon as she opened her eyes and blinked, trying to get rid of the haze in her mind, she looks around.

Someone speaks in a language foreign to her and she turns to the side before her eyes widen-

She stares. She sees the mouth of the person- person? Is it a person? Why were they colored blue? Who are they even? Where was she? Is she dreaming? Is she dead?

The person in front of her keeps talking but she can't understand a single thing. Besides, her brain cells weren't working at the moment. Everything seemed different, she can't seem to focus.

Finally, whoever it was that was failing miserably to get through to her stopped talking and left the room. That's when she noticed that she was sitting on a small cot, inside a tent? Maybe. She doesn't know. She's not sure.

She tries to remember the last thing her brain could before she woke up in this strange place.

She was on a vacation trip for the summer. She went to visit her late grandmother's hometown in the province of Siquijor. 

On the second day, she decided to take a boat and go over to Apo Island. It was a strangely cloudy day; a perfect time to go for a swim. She had snorkeling gear with her but no life vest. She didn't bother since she promised herself she wouldn't go that far. Besides, she's never drowned before. She can float if anything were to happen.

She was joyfully admiring the corals, the starfish, and the sea urchins. Fish of different kinds started to swim around and she followed them. Saying hi and hello, waving to the fishes as if they could understand her dumbass.

She kept following the school of fishes, unaware that she was getting farther and farther from the shore- that is until she sees a deep fucking abyss. 

"Ay puta!" Fuck! A garbled curse escapes from her lips as she raises her head from the water due to panic. The chasm was deep as all hell. It was dark and wide as if it would swallow her whole if she didn't swim away.

She tried to swim away. Emphasis on tried.

She lifted her body in an attempt to float and she would've. She would've been safe if not for the sudden cramp on her leg- the muscle twisted and it sent her body to a standstill.

Then darkness.

A voice spoke and cut her off her thoughts. She looked up in alarm and her eyes widened once again at the tall, handsome, yet weirdly looking guy in front of her.

He spoke again in a language she doesn't know. His brown eyes locked onto hers and it didn't seem like he was threatening her by the tone of his voice but his brows were furrowed and his lips were in a deep scowl. 

When she didn't answer, he called for someone outside of the tent. A woman and another man; taller and broader, entered. But again, for some unknown reason; they were both blue-skinned.

However, that aside, this is when the genius(?) protagonist noticed that one doesn't look like the others. His skin was tanned as opposed to the other two. He had pointy ears and a huge piercing on his nose. He was adorned in jewels and the other two were fully clothed while he was only in- 

Ay jusko lord. (Oh my god)

She averted her eyes and looked down at his feet only to notice the wings. She blinked once, twice, thrice- 

What the- 

She stared, again, her brain trying to process things but can't. Someone send help.

Teka. Nasan ba ko? The fuck. Sino tong mga to? Bat may pakpak ung paa niya, ano to cosplay? (Wait. Where am I? The fuck. Who are these people? Why does he have wings on his feet, is this cosplay?) 

"Ah- Ano-" Uhm- she starts to speak and the others turn to her. The woman then talks to her in a slightly commanding tone but it's still in a different language so she can't understand jack shit. 

When she still didn't answer, it was obvious that her host, or whoever they were, was starting to get a little frustrated with her uncooperative state. 

She could hear them talking to each other in the foreign language again and when she finally had her wits about her, she raised her hand.

"Uhm- Excuse me-" 

The three strangers stopped and turned. The man with pointy ears walked over to her in wide strides that she unconsciously leaned on the wall as a defense mechanism.

"You speak English?" He then asks in a low, deep grumble.

She raised her brow at him, "Yes? Of course, I speak English, I've been colonized." Weird that she answered that way but it was already done, so whatever.

Her snap seemed to surprise those in the room but at this point, she was too confused to care.

She looked around once more, "Wait, so where the hell am I? And who are you?" She asked him. 

It took a few moments before she was answered by the pointy-eared man, "I have many names-" he started, "My people call me K'uk'ulkan."

Clearly, the name didn't register in her brain because she tilted her head in confusion. He moves closer, right in front of her face in an attempt to intimidate her but she could only register the handsomeness of his features which confused her a little. Here she was, in an unknown place, with unknown people and that's what she notices. 

"But my enemies call me Namor." He finishes and waits for her to react.

She scrunched up her nose, "Can I just call you Namor because that first name is so hard for me to say." 

This amused him, she thinks, since his lips curved upward a little. 

"Where am I?" She finally asks and Namor leans back slightly, 

"You are in my kingdom." He answers and it again prompts her to raise a brow,

"Apo Island has a kingdom?" She asked and this time it was him who looks at her incredulously. He wonders for a bit before leaning down again near her face and she backs away.

"Child, where do you think you are right now?"

Di ba kasasabi niya lang na nasa lugar niya daw kami, labo naman neto. (Didn't he just say we were in his kingdom? He's confusing.)

"You said we were in your kingdom. I'm pretty sure-" 

"The location, child." He insists and she thinks for a bit, wondering what he could gain from knowing the answer.

"Apo Island, Philippines." 

There was silence. The man and woman behind Namor looked at each other and this didn't go amiss by her. They looked more puzzled than she was.

"What?" She asked, a sudden panic started to rise in her chest for some reason.

"You're in my kingdom. In the Atlantic Ocean." 

"Ha?" She gave him a look that says 'are you fucking kidding me?' but then her expression changed.

From giving them an incredulous look to showing them a tired one, she sighs.

"What?" Namor questions and takes a step back when she suddenly stands up.

"Ha? Hatdog." 

The three strangers looked at each other and she rolled her eyes, "I get it. This is a prank, right? Who are you really? Ano to, skit?" (Is this a skit?) 

"Kala niyo ba maiisahan niyo ko? Asa ka boy. Kaya pala naka-cosplay ka ee." She adds and raises a brow.

(You think you can trick me? You wish, boy. No wonder you're in some kind of cosplay.)

"What are you talking about?" The other woman asked with a disapproving look, "And how dare you call him a boy-" 

"English, child." Namor cuts the other off and commands the stranger but she scoffs, rolling her eyes in the process. 

"English mo mukha mo. And anong child? Gago twenty-something na ko." (English your face. And what child? Asshole, I'm twenty-something already.)

Her voice was defiant as she suddenly glared at Namor. This surprised him a little so he wasn't able to answer her. Obviously, no one has ever addressed him in such a manner before.

She thought she had him, "So ano ka? Crossover ni King Triton at Legolas? Sali sana ako kung parang tourism eme to kaso lokal lang ako mamsir." (So what are you? A crossover of King Triton and Legolas? I would've joined if this was something for tourism but I'm local.)

She started walking towards the closed drapes of the tent and she saw out of the corner of her eye that the taller man and the woman were about to stop her but Namor raised his hand to stop them instead.

"Let her go. Let her see." 

As soon as she stepped foot out of the tent, her eyes went wide, "What. The. F-"

The place was unlike anything she's ever seen. It was beautiful but that was the least of her problems right now. Suddenly, an uncomfortable feeling set itself in her stomach. 

Shit nasan ba talaga ako? What if di to prank? Tangina, ano ko na-kidnap? Gago aanuhin nila ko, wala naman ako pera. Shit uso pa ba ung human trafficking- (Shit where am I, really? What if it's not a prank? Motherfucker, was I kidnapped? Fuck what are they gonna do, I don't have any money. Shit, is human trafficking still a thing?)

"You are not where you thought you are." Namor cut off her rambling in her head and she whirled around in alarm, looking at him with fear in her eyes.

Now it has registered in her brain that she's in so much deeper shit than she thought. She backed away from him instinctively- before she ran.

"Hey!" The taller man had yelled after her but before he could chase her down, the woman said with a smirk, "Let her. She has nowhere to go." 

Meanwhile, the lost and confused protagonist of this story, well- maybe, no one knows yet if she is a protagonist. But for now, let's say she is-

Anyway, she ran. To where? She has no clue. She just had to get away from the strangers. She looked around and realized she was in a cave.

"San na ung exit?!" (Where's the exit?!) She yelled and it echoed against the walls. She covers her mouth and crouches on instinct before peeking to the side, checking if she was being followed. When there were no signs of an attack, she breathed out in relief. She thinks she's safe- she's not.

"Okay. Okay." She breathed in, trying to calm herself down, "Kung nasa kweba ako, malamang sa bandang dulo dito ung exit."  (If I was in a cave, then the exit should be at the far end.) She said to herself as if she actually knew what she was doing. She doesn't.

She started to crabwalk to wherever the hell she thinks the exit should be. She thinks she's being quiet and clever. Again, she's not.

"Where the fuck is the exit?!" She whispers, annoyed. She got to the end of the cave but all she saw was a body of water, like a small pond. There was no exit.

What if?

Nasa loob ba ko ng secret beach? De, di secret beach, parang secret beach, ung kelangan mo lumusot para makadating sa kabilang side. (Am I inside a secret beach? No, not a secret beach, but like a secret beach, where you gotta swim under to get to the other side.) 

Her conclusion seemed to make sense to her but there was one problem: she's not a good swimmer. She's never drowned before, granted, but still, she's not a good swimmer.

"Okay." She said to herself, "Options-"

Counting down with her fingers, she started to think, "Option One: Lalangoy ako pailalim to escape." (Option One: I swim under to escape.) She looks at the 'pond', it looks deep as shit.

"Option Two: Pakamatay na lang tayo dito agad bes, kesa kung ano pa gawin nila sayo. Jusko lord I'd rather die talaga." (Option Two: Let me just kill myself here, rather than finding out what they'd do to me. Jesus Christ I'd literally rather die.)

She continues to talk with herself, "Baka naman di ganon kalalim? Mukha lang? Siguro? Pucha naman talaga, oo."  (Maybe it's not that deep. Only looks like it? Maybe? Fucking really.) She's panicking. And when she panics, bad things happen.

"Okay, try natin, baka naman-" (Okay, let's try, maybe-) She walked towards the pond, dipping her feet into the water to test the temperature. There was a voice in her head saying "Hoe don't do it." but she ignored it. She was panicking, her brain cells were gone.

She sinks into the pond quickly and opens her eyes. It was harder to see without the goggles but the water was surprisingly clear as soon as she dove in. She looks around and sees a light and this brings a bit of hope to her heart.

But, as mentioned, she's not a good swimmer. She's not good at holding her breath either. She was halfway through the cave, the light still a few ways away from her when she felt herself start to lose air.

Panic. Panic. Panic.

She tried to swim up but she hadn't realized that the deeper she went into the body of water, the cave closed in on her.

Panic. More panic. She's going to die.

Option Two then. She thinks to herself before she takes a huge gulp of water. She has accepted her fate. Death to the stranger. The end. Her eyes closed and she fell deeper into the water-

Until she wasn't.

She coughed out the water on solid ground. She was on all fours, trying to catch her breath when she felt a firm grip on her arm. She turned to see Namor, looking at her disapprovingly.

"You are foolish." He starts with a frown, "There is no escape from here for a surface-dweller like you without our help."

"What-" She coughs roughly, she still can't breathe properly. Her eyes widened when she realized what was happening- she was having an asthma attack.

She wheezed and clutched her chest before falling to her side. She could hear Namor talking- or yelling- she's not sure. Her eyes started to water. She's trying to catch her breath so desperately when she feels something cover her mouth.

Suddenly she can breathe a little easier.

"Breathe," She could finally register what Namor was saying. Her vision started to focus and when she calmed, she looked down at the device on her face.

She started to inspect it, turning it here and there suspiciously.

"An inhaler?" She asked, "Looks like one of those things you use with a nebulizer." 

Her asthmatic ass aside, her situation still hasn't improved. This reality settled again in her thoughts and she looked abruptly at Namor who was just watching- observing.

"Okay. Uh-" She started, standing up rather slowly. She was looking at him like he was some wild animal she had to be careful around.

Well, she's not wrong.

"Uhm okay, Namor," She swallows her fear, 

"SIR-" She continued with her hands raised in front of her chest, palm outward as if to calm him, to surrender to him.

"I don't know what you want from me. I'm nobody. If this is a kidnapping then I can assure you-" 

Namor raises a brow but before he could interrupt her, she continued on her tangent, "I have no money. I'm alone. I don't have anything and if you're planning on selling my body parts then-" 

"What-"

"I'm asthmatic. I have GERD- well, maybe, I don't know, I haven't had that checked yet." She stops to think, "I also have PCOS, I swear no one will buy me from you so-" 

"I have nothing to give you." She stops and it took a few minutes before-

"Follow me," Namor instructs and she tenses, backing away from him a little.

"Come here." He repeated, more commanding. But when he saw the panic in her eyes and the way she closed her hand in a tight fist, he changed his tone, "I will take you to where I found you, so follow me." 

"What do you mean: found me?" She asked, slowly and carefully walking closer to him. She was still wary of him but for now, she has no choice but to trust him.

Namor turned to her a little, "I found you in the water close to our border. I sensed a disturbance in the waves and when I went to look, you were there." He knew she didn't believe him since she again had that look on her face.

Of course, she replied, "That makes no sense." 

"Believe what you will. I'm taking you back." He continued to walk ahead and she followed timidly. They arrived in front of the tent once again. The two other strangers were still there, waiting for them. The woman was smirking while the taller man only looked at her suspiciously.

Namor then steps into the water, he was waist-deep before he turned to her, "Come." 

She hesitated, still. 

"I thought you wanted to go home?" He asked her, a playful grin on his lips.

"Yeah but- how do I know you're not gonna drown me once I get in there?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and Namor laughing dryly caught her by surprise.

Teka. Ang cute nun ah. Hala. (Wait. That was cute. Oh no.)

"Trust me," His grin grows wider, "If I were to kill you, I wouldn't need the water." 

 She swallows and bites her lip at his words, her heart pounding for some strange reason. Maybe because he was cute when he smiled- oR MAYBE BECAUSE HE JUST FUCKING THREATENED TO KILL HER. 

She starts to weigh her options again but then, of course, not one of those was a perfect solution for an escape. And Namor said it himself, there was no way out of the cave without their help. So she sighs, might as well go with it. If she does die there- well- she hopes she doesn't but if she does- then she's dead. What else is there?

She walked over to the water and as soon as she was at the same water level as him, he pulled her closer to his chest, her face flushed when she braced herself against him, hands on his biceps.

Namor gives her the mouthpiece and she starts to feel her breathing slow down a little, her mind getting a bit fogged up with an unknown haze.

"Breathe." He commands and she follows. As soon as her breathing was steady, he drags her underwater.

"Eyes open, child." Was the next thing she heard him say. As soon as she did, she shielded them from the sun before looking around.

"Where-" She noticed they weren't near a beachfront like she expected. Instead, they were in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"Where I found you," Namor explains and she turns to him with another one of those disbelieving looks.

"What? No. That's-" She looks around again, "That's impossible. There's nothing here." She gestured to the open sea.

"Do you think I am lying?" Namor asks and she looks him in the eye. It unsettled her, even more, when she could see that he wasn't. He was telling the truth.

Pero what the fuck? (But what the fuck?)

"Where-" She swallows the lump in her throat, "Where are we?" 

Namor could tell that she was finally starting to believe him, "Near the borders of my kingdom." 

"And that would be where again?" 

"You surface-dwellers call this place the Atlantic Ocean." Surprisingly, he was patient with her despite her doubt and her use of foul language every now and then. 

"Why do you say that?" She suddenly asked and when he raised a brow, she clarified, "Why do you call me a surface-dweller?" 

Ah. Apparently, it still wasn't obvious to her that Namor and his people were different from her. Don't blame her though, some parts of her brain are working and some are not. Seriously though, whose brain would work properly after finding out you may or may not have been kidnapped by some weird-looking dudes?

"You don't live in the ocean, no?" Namor asked back, "How do you think I was able to carry you from the cave into the open sea without trouble? Without that mask?" 

She thought for a while. Namor could tell she was really racking up an idea in her brain with the way her brows furrowed and the way she scrunched up her nose. She was thinking- or at least she was trying to.

Finally, she gave up and shrugged, "I dunno. I just thought you were a good swimmer." 

Surprisingly, he chuckled. He was obviously amused. She was obviously stupid. 

"I am not like you." He then said, earning another raised brow from her, "What are you then?" 

"Think." He pointed at his forehead, in hopes that she would understand what he meant for her to do.

Thankfully, she did. She looked at him- really looked at him. She took note of his tanned skin, his deep brown eyes, his dark hair, and his jewelry. If that was all there is to him then she may have stuck with her first conclusion. Btu there were still the pointed ears- and she remembered seeing his winged feet. She also recalls the other two who had blue-colored skin. 

A dawning realization creeps up on her and as Namor watched her think, he could tell that she was starting to understand. She didn't. Not really. 

"So-" She starts, "You're- what?" She tried to think of a term but couldn't. Again, the brain was gone. There is one possibility she could think of but she thinks that the idea was too out there. There's a one-in-a-million chance that she'd be able to meet anyone from there.

So, no- it wasn't an option. It was too- unrealistic. 

But then another idea popoped in her head- not a good one though-

"Ah! Shokoy!" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Teka. Masyado kang gwapo para maging shokoy. But-" (Wait. You're too good-looking to be a shokoy. But-) She goes on a tangent once again, not bothering with Namor who was looking at her incredulously,

"You have the qualities, I mean- no, you don't- maybe?" She gestures to nothing, "Look, I don't know. You don't have fins and your ears are just pointy. You have winged feet instead of fins but then again, may paa nga ba pag shokoy?" (-but then again, do shokoy even have feet?)

"What did you call me?" Namor cuts her off her thinking, swimming closer to her a little and she finally looks up.

"A shokoy?" She asked back, "It's like a- hmmm- mer...man? Loosely." Unsure and a little confused, she wonders at the look he was giving her. 

"I am not a merman. I am a mutant." Namor was about to tell her the story of how he was born and how he became the ruler of the kingdom of Talokan. 

"Teka. Teka. Teka. Wait." She stopped him, waving her hands in front of his face, "You said, mutant. So- like- the X-Men?" 

"Who?" 

"X-Men. You know?" She asked and shrugged her shoulders. Not getting the reaction that she thought she would get from him, she continues, "Everybody knows the X-Men. They're new but apparently, they've been living among us for quite a while now. They're a new addition to the Avengers... kinda like a sub-group." She explained and when Namor still didn't show any sign of recognition, she tilted her head.

"You really have no idea who the X-Men are? They might be like you guys." 

Bat di niya alam? Eh kaka-join nga lang nung mga un sa Avengers. Na news pa nga un. Pero baka kase walang tv sa tubig. (Why doesn't he know? They just joined the Avengers. It was in the news. Maybe because there's no television underwater.)

"I do not care for the affairs of the surface-dwellers." Namor finally answered.

"Aray naman." (Ouch.) She replied and held her chest dramatically while she raised her other hand, "Surface-dweller here, sir." 

Namor grins unconsciously, "You are amusing."

Before she could say another word, Namor turned around and she sees that the woman from before was right behind him except she was wearing a different set of clothes and she had a huge headgear on.

They talk with each other in the language our protagonist can't understand. The words exchanged were said with a sense of urgency. She noticed the way Namor suddenly tensed- his back straightened and his biceps clenched. When he turned around to look at her, his brows were furrowed, his jaw set, and his nostrils were flared.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Come, we must return to the cave." Namor grabs her by the arm without a second thought or any warning before they dove deep into the water.

She had no idea what was going on. The blue people, more of them, not just the first two who were with Namor, were scrambling around and they were carrying- 

"Are those spears?" She asked under her breath. She was just standing in the corner awkwardly. Looking here and there. 

As soon as they got back to the cave, Namor dove back into a much deeper pond. He was gone for minutes and she waited by the edge, not knowing what to do. The question of what the fuck is happening and how the fuck did she get there was still on her mind but when about a dozen of the foreign people emerged from the depths of the pond, she stepped to the side politely to make way for them- to whatever the hell they were going.

She looked at them and they stared back. They were probably wondering why someone like her was in there with them. It was obvious that she was a visitor. Well, maybe visitor is a loose term. 

Staring contest ito. Ang awkward. Ano ba gagawin ko dito? Pasok na lang kaya ako sa tent? (This is a staring contest. How awkward. What am I even doing here? Should I go back to the tent?) She thought to herself and started to crabwalk. 

Again, no idea why the crabwalk. That's just her weird ass choice.

"Stop." She heard someone say and she turned. One tall guy was approaching her in quick, long strides. It was a different one, someone she doesn't know by face.

"What?" She asked and took a step back since she was intimidated by the way this man was looking and walking toward her.

He speaks quickly- too quickly that it doesn't register in her brain. Not that it could, he was speaking in another language. He sounded commanding- he looked commanding. And when she didn't respond to him since she can't understand jack shit, he suddenly grabbed her by the arm-

"Oy! Tangina- get off!" (Fucker- get off!0 She yelled, surprised and frankly, a bit offended at how she was grabbed without warning. She tried to yank herself away from him, only to have the stranger laugh in a mocking tone.

Aba gago to a. (This asshole.)

"I said-" She gritted her teeth- FIGHT MODE ON.

"-GET. OFF!" She stomped her foot on his, making him let go of his iron grip, she doubled back and braced herself before kicking him in the nuts. He bent over in pain and shock. 

Never mess with a Filipina. 

She removed one of her aqua shoes and raised it over her head, "Nyeta ka. Makahablot, kala mo walang bukas. Who the hell are you?" (You fucker. Grabbing me like there's no tomorrow.)

The man glared at her and stood up, a threatening and dangerous look in his eyes, "Who do you think you are?!" He yelled angrily and was about to raise his hand but a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him.

They both turned and she sighed in relief when she saw Namor. They talked with each other, Namor sounding gentle yet with authority towards the other man. The stranger seemed to settle down before his eyes widened, making her wonder what else Namor had told him. 

The stranger looked at her and what he did next surprised and confused her even more. The man knelt on one knee right in front of her before muttering something in the other language, 

"Forgive me." 

She raised a brow but before she could even ask what the hell he was doing and why he was doing it and what he meant, Namor had taken her by the arm. He then spoke in a commanding tone over the people gathered by the cave.

She wondered what he was saying. It must've been important and it must be about her because they all looked at her with- she doesn't know what look they were giving her- maybe- acknowledgment? Could be.

Namor then turned to her, "There is something I have to attend to. You must stay here." He ordered,

"What? Where are you-"

"Stay. My people will look after you as I have instructed. I will return-" He calls her by a name in the language she's not familiar with and she tilts her head, not understanding shit. But again, before she could ask, he had turned on his heel and left with most of the people carrying spears out of the cave. 

Once they were all gone, she sighed, looking around at the remaining strangers with her. There were two men- who she assumed were left to guard her, and there were three younger women. 

Oh tapos. Ano na bes? Nga-nga. (So now what?)

One of the younger women then approached her and handed her some new clothes before gesturing for her to follow. She looked down at the garments and then back up at the stranger. With another heavy sigh, she thinks to herself-

May choice pa ba ko? (Do I have a choice?)

requested tagging: @deputy-videogamer @rokuhoku @queenotaku23​ 

[anemoarchonhoe]

You asked for more and so I shall deliver more. In the interest of not taking up an entire page of comments I will try and send a few to get your opinion of them and then send more afterwards if that is alright with you.

Also, feel free to use any of these in stories or drabbles, as long as I am mentioned or given some credit for the idea I am fine with it if that is okay with you as well.

Anyways, here we go.

Let's see...where should I start...ah! Let's go with tiny or child reader and maybe an idea that came to me at work yesterday as well shall we?

A cult or soft SAGAU where the reader is a child who is tinier than even Klee and Qiqi. Venti sees them and squeals so loudly that nearby windows crack.

A cult au where the reader was an idol and decides to form an idol band with Barbara as a singer, Venti on the lyre, Ningguang as a financer, Xinyan on guitar and whoever you can think of on the other instruments.

In the same vein as the history fan reader idea, a Cult or Soft AU where the child reader knows things they really shouldn't leading to panic attacks and crisis. For example they visit Jean at work and ask her why she is so busy, after she tells them they tell her 'At least you don't have to worry about Jack the Ripper.' Jean asks who that is thinking its an imaginary friend...one explanation later she is dropping them off with Lisa or Barbara while she gets something to drink. Ei bemoans her mistakes as a leader, the reader says 'At least your not as bad as Stalin or Hitler.' Ei makes Jeans mistake and asks them who they are thinking they are imaginary, she then drops the reader off with Sara or Yae and proceeds to wonder what kind of world lets a child know about such things. They ask Barbara and Rosaria if there is something like the Inquisition in Teyvat, both are worried that the reader somehow found out about it in a Cult Au or are horrified to learn about the things done by the Inquisition in our world. The reader mentions plagues, murderers, and stuff like that and other things as well and everyone is freaking out because a child should not know about such things.

A Cult or Soft Au where the reader is afraid of people and panics when they see a person, even Klee. They cry for help and suddenly a dozen Lawachurls and Abyss Mages show up.

A child reader who comes from a post-apocalyptic world, like Fallout. They see grass and ask what the soft green thing is, Ganyu almost has a heart attack when she learns there is no grass where they are from. They see a chef with a cleaver and ask if they are going to eat them while eying a window or door, Xiangling is physically ill when they tell them about the cannibals. They ask Venti what that nice sound is, he proceeds to freak-out when he learns they have never heard music. They ask about if there is radiation or something like it in the air, everyone gets sick when they describe radiation sickness. They tell Albedo about the mutants and creatures they have seen, Ei winds up holding Sara and Yae like plushies to keep nightmares away from all three of them after seeing the pictures the alchemist drew from their descriptions. Jean flips her lid when she is told about the bomb collars used by slavers and the raiders and chem-fiends.

A tiny child reader who has a family of monsters from fiction, think some Trever Henderson, Dead by daylight, Myths and stuff. I mean things like aunt Sadako, good boy Long-Horse as a pet, Big brother Michael Meyers, cousin Leather-Face Bubba, momma Hachishaku, and stuff.

A cult au where the child reader arrives horribly burned and or scarred, like Alessa from Silent Hill, and uses a ghost like projection to draw people to their real body. The archons, Celestia, The Abyss, and the Travelers are all contemplating finding a way to their old world to lodge a formal complaint...in the form of a cataclysm or two.

Tiny reader who winds up in places they shouldn't, like on a cliff or on top of a building or outside of Ningguang's window on the rebuilt Jade Chamber. Huh, so this is why I have heard that bullying the Acolytes is fun.

Soft or Cult Au where the reader is a feral child who has lived in caves and stuff for so long they have become almost animalistic.

Tiny reader whose first thought on seeing anyone is to hug them. Signora gets a hug. Venti squeals when he is hugged. Barbara nearly faints when she is hugged by her god. Ningguang gets a hug. Ei gets a hug. All the characters get hugs!

Soft Au where the reader was a child soldier in a Metal Gear like Universe or something. Everyone freaks out after learning that their God had been made into a weapon as soon as they could walk and talk and is busy trying to let them enjoy their new chance at a childhood. The Abyss, Celestia, and the Archons agree to a treaty that anything that ruins said new childhood is dealt with by all three of them combined.

Cult Au where something like the Gate from 'Gate thus the JDSF fought there,' opens on Teyvat...only to be greeted by an alliance of all factions who had been warned by their god that the gate leads to a 'bad place where people are hurting,' The empire proceeds to get thrashed by Fatui soldiers backed by Ruin Hunters and Guards with Abyss forces with Khaenri'ah tech aiding soldiers from all other nations while the Archons show these invaders what gods can really do. When refugees and and freed slaves who have suffered horribly are brought through the Gate they are stunned to learn that a child is this world's chief god and that said child is the reason they are being healed and given new lives. Meanwhile the entity that opened the Gate finds out they can't close it, and Asmoday decides that their arrogance ends then and there upon thinking they could run from their God's judgement.

A Child reader arrives and starts asking people if this is hell because they were told they were going there...I will leave the reactions to you, but safe to say everyone is trying to find a way to their god's old world to bring about a new cataclysm.

A reader, child or not is up to you, who has blood, that looks like the night sky and by that I mean it is black with silver stars and multi colored galaxies and stuff in it, with mutative properties. I mean they cut themselves by accident and their blood hits a flower and suddenly we have a motherly Alraune holding them. Their blood hits a pig and suddenly we have a hogzilla sided boar running rampant through the forest with the reader laughing while riding their back. Now combined that with the reader not being able to feel pain and know when they have been hurt and you get chaos.

Child reader who spawns in the Abyss. Everyone is dumbfounded when Hilichurls show up outside of their cities with wagons full of trading goods and pre written signs or Abyss Mages who say that they are trading these goods and protection/safe travels or temporary peace in exchange for children toys and art supplies. Sara hears this and thinks that her soldiers are drunk. Jean hears this and thinks she is way too overworked. Ningguang is stunned into silence before deciding that Mora and goods are Mora and goods. Abyss Aether winds up grabbing his sister and asking for advice on what to do when the child has a nightmare...Lumine is too busy laughing to answer.

Tiny child reader who has nightmares and needs comforted by everyone.

A narcoleptic child reader who falls asleep in very strange places.

Not a child reader but imagine a Milf reader whose first reaction to seeing everyone is to glomp them with their face being pushed into their chest.

A child reader who likes to dress up as their acolytes. Venti cannot stop himself from showing off his new mini me. Zhongli looks like a proud father. Ei is reduced to a cooing mess who winds up holding them on her lap like the most precious thing in the world. Signora can't stop herself from proudly puffing out her chest at the tiny version of herself. Beidou has them proudly riding on their shoulders with her crew calling her mini me 'Mini Captain'. The Mirror Maiden all but faints when she sees or is told about the child who has dressed up like her.

Child reader who gives Teppei a custom made vision that lets him use all elements and summon them to his side if needed.

A cult or Soft au where the child reader is blind or deaf.

Cult Au where the reader calls everyone 'Mommy' or 'Daddy' or in other cases 'Big Sister' or 'Big Brother'.

You mentioned the world of Little Nightmares and so let's expand on that with a Child reader who was with Six on The Maw and later on in the City that is so traumatized by what they have seen they cannot sleep alone and even have hallucinations from time to time about what they have seen.

A cult Au where the child reader is chronically sick to the point they are almost as fragile as porcelain.

A child reader who is a very gifted cook, in particular they are very good at making sweets and decide to bring some of their old worlds sweet treats to this new world. Ei takes one bite of a salted caramel cake and lets out a sound that is typically reserved for the bedroom.

A child reader who grew up on the street. They can't read or write and also have health issues. They know nothing about this new world and are soon to be picked up by a certain Oni who takes them under his wing.

Someone has done something like this before, I forget who and cannot find the post either but I know it mentions EI, Zhongli, Venti and someone else, but A cult au where the child reader is just so pure and so sweet that they don't know when some people are trying to use them and so their beloved acolytes have to help them out from time to time. Someone tries to swindle them? Ningguang proceeds to ruin their business and their families businesses. Someone says they are not the real creator despite them having shown signs that they are? Barbara and Rosaria are on the situation in a moment in a form of Inquisition, the person is made persona non grata by the church in every region and may find themselves having a mysterious visitor on their way home at night. Someone says their ability to use the elements without a vision is freaky? Lumine and Aether are happy to demonstrate their own abilities...on them while Paimon distracts the reader. Someone ruins their fun day? Signora and Venti put aside their differences and proceed to test out what they can combined their powers into.

A cult au where the reader is being spoiled by their acolytes.

I have a couple more, but let's leave it here for now. I hope you enjoy these idea, please let me know if you want me to send more again.

AAAAAAAAAAH THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD I CAN'T PICK A FAVORITE

Sike. My favorite out of all of these is the galaxy blood. I hope you don't mind me yoink-ing this idea to apply to my Ruin Bird series!!!

All these ideas are good on their own and I can't add anything more to them. Feel free to send more ideas at your own leisure.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Well, it’s not quite a master’s thesis, but this is (the first of) a series of posts on why Catra and Adora are the best love story in the history of kids TV animation and maybe the greatest love story in the history of TV. This may in some ways be faint praise - romance on TV is generally not very good compared with books or movies. Often it’s just some will they/won’t they sexual tension that is defused by getting characters together and re-heightened by breaking them up. TV is full of nearly shark jumping pointless dramas like Sam and Diane (Cheers, holy fuck am I dating myself, though that was technically before my time), Ross and Rachel (Friends, which was no Cheers) etc, but also some less annoying couples like Ben and Leslie (Parks and Rec) or Amy and Jake (Bk99) who are mostly just kind of cute and fun. Other shows, like the X-Files, teased viewers for years with unresolved sexual tension. In kids shows most romances are, appropriate for their target viewers, mild, sweet relationships based more on self-conscious flirting and blushing than on complex and conflicted feelings or deep passions - which is pretty realistic when the characters are young teens or even mid-teens. Some of these relationships are really well done - Finn and Flame Princess, Dipper and Pacifica (yeah I ship them), the early stages of Katara and Aang (before the showrunners imbued this childhood crush with cosmic significance), Steven and Connie, etc. Catra and Adora, though, are different. Their love story is not a side plot or a sub plot, it’s the heart of the show. It isn’t a childhood crush, it’s a very messy and passionate relationship between two young adults. She-Ra is an emotionally complex lesbian romance just as much as it is a thrilling action/adventure show. Everything about their relationship is baked into the show’s plot, its themes, hell even its musical score. The dramatic tension between Catra and Adora is not the result of stretching out a flirtation for ratings, but a coherent dramatic arc that runs through the entire show. As Noelle said, he made Catradora so central that execs couldn’t take it out without ruining the show. And the show is better for it. In this series of posts I’m going to try to show why, as well as showing why She-Ra is such a fantastic love story.

First off, let’s talk about how Catra and Adora’s character arcs are foils for each other, and how they come together and apart through the series. This is actually a post that I’ve been working on for a while but I keep summarizing the show rather than cutting to the chase, so I’m not going to recite many plot points so much as sketch out what’s going on with the dramatic structure at the time. But also, let’s talk about what each character’s arc is saying, and how they are commenting on each other. Spoiler alert: Catra’s arc is a subversion and critique of stories of empowerment through ruthless self-assertion and revenge, while Adora’s arc is a subversion and critique of chosen one narratives and stories of self-denial and self-transcendence.

When the show starts, Adora and Catra are shown as rivals and friends - their first scene starts the recurring motif of them reaching out for each other as one of them dangles above an abyss, as well as establishing their flirtatious banter and easy camaraderie. We quickly learn that these two young women plan to conquer the world together. These scenes and later flashbacks show Catra and Adora as deeply enmeshed in each others lives, to the point where neither of them (but especially Catra) have clear identities outside of one another. There is so much genuine love on both sides before Adora leaves, but also resentment, envy and fear, especially on Catra’s side, as well as a protectiveness on Adora’s side that deprives Catra of her autonomy. They are both being abused by Shadow Weaver - Catra physically  and emotionally, Adora emotionally. It wouldn’t be too much to say that Shadow Weaver holds Catra hostage to control Adora (this is why critiques that Adora abandoned Catra to be abused are actually kind of messed up, since they accept Shadow Weaver’s premise that Adora is responsible for what Shadow Weaver does to Catra). In addition, Catra and Adora actually see the world incredibly differently. Adora already sees the world in terms of right, wrong and her destiny to right wrongs - this is why it’s important for her  to accept the Horde’s obvious lies - she couldn’t keep living if she didn’t. Catra, on the other hand, sees the world solely in terms of survival and personal loyalty - everything for her is about preserving herself and the person she cares about - Adora.

Then, when Adora finds the sword, she leaves because it’s the right thing to do. Catra doesn’t even have a concept of ‘the right thing to do’ being something she should care about, or perhaps, something she can care about as an irredeemably evil, awful fuck-up. So at Thaymor neither one understands where the other is coming from, and Catra and Adora begin to part. This is the first turning point in their relationship. Adora chooses duty over what she desires, Catra chooses to protect herself (such as she sees it) and nurse her sense of betrayal and abandonment.

Their relationship until Promise is a kind of weird Frenemy thing that is fascinating to watch and sold me on the show. Neither one wants to fully admit to themselves that the other is now their enemy, neither one has given up on changing the other’s mind. Each is furious at the other, and desperate to see her again at the same time. There’s a lot of heartache and just as much sexual tension, especially at Princess Prom. Both of them come alive when they fight each other (more about that in a later post). But they’re already growing apart - Adora embracing her destiny as She-Ra, Catra rising in the ranks for the Horde. Adora now has the purpose she always wanted, plus other friends and a sense of being chosen to do something great, while Catra now has power - the means to protect herself from people like Shadow Weaver as well as the vindication she had always been denied, and even the opportunity to beat Shadow Weaver at her own game.

The next turning point is Promise. Holy fuck, this episode. It’s an episode that is even more heartbreaking after you’ve watched the show because you know just how much worse things are going to get, and yet, it’s a necessary part of both of their character arcs. Even through season 1 Catra and Adora had remained very much enmeshed in each others lives in an increasingly fucked up way as they grew apart but refused to turn away from each other. Even though they aren’t -exactly- a romantic couple (Adora doesn’t recognize and acknowledge her feelings until the last episode of Season 5), Season 1 of She-Ra is one of the worst breakups I have seen on TV. As I said in a couple of previous posts, this is the kind of shit that the Mountain Goats write songs about. Everything that was poisoning their love for each other even before episode 1 bubbles to the surface and combines with them fighting on opposite sides of the war to make a truly fucked up situation. In the end, it’s Catra that makes the choice to turn away from Adora. This isn’t a -good- decision. It’s spiteful, and destructive, and based on an outright deluded understanding of their relationship (inspired by Light Hope’s manipulations and her own issues), but it’s in some ways a necessary decision. Catra has been so wrapped up in Adora for so long that she isn’t going to be able to figure out who -she- is without cutting Adora out of her life. And the same is true of Adora.

But each of them do this in about the worst way possible. Catra embraces destruction, ambition, manipulation and outright cruelty, turning the tactics of her abusers against them and against everyone around her. She first triumphs over Shadow Weaver and manipulates Entrapta into trying to corrupt Etheria itself. Meanwhile Adora ‘lets go’ and commits herself to the self-denying mantle of She-Ra. Over the next several seasons, their respective paths will nearly lead both Catra and Adora to their deaths (in the Season 4 finale).

For the next season (counting season 2 and 3 as one) Catra and Adora are still closely linked, but as enemies. Still, there’s more than enough flirtation between them (that ‘Hey Catra’ in the first episode of Season 2 is something else), and especially on Adora’s side we see her hold back with Catra, and often take responsibility for the harm Catra inflicts, just like she had when they were kids. Yet they still drift apart - after facing off every other episode in Season 1, they spend less and less time on screen together through season 2 and 3. Catra continues her ascent to power and descent into villainy while Adora becomes more of a stressed out mess as she takes the fate of the world and the wellbeing of everyone she cares about on her admittedly broad shoulders. Catra’s one moment of vulnerability is rewarded by Shadow Weaver’s betrayal and her exile, then Catra triumphs in ruthless badass fashion through sheer desperation and aggression. In the Crimson Wastes, we see Catra at her most independent, and she almost seems happy. But once Adora shows up and Catra hears about Shadow Weaver, she’s sucked back into the worst of her resentments, and she makes very clear that being happy is less important to her than making sure Adora is miserable.

This changes everything. Catra completely breaks with reality and tries to kill Adora, herself and the world rather than lose to Adora and Shadow Weaver (I do think it’s important to remember that she does that after Shadow Weaver nearly kills her). Catra betrays everyone around her when she exiles Entrapta, threatens Scopria and lies to Hordak. Then she flips the switch. When Adora tries to fix things, Catra fights to her own death to make sure that the world disintegrates with her. For her part, Adora fights first to understand what is wrong with the world and then to fix it. Finally she tells Catra that destroying the world is her choice and she has to live with it, decks her, and then sees her off with a death glare once the portal is closed. With this, Adora writes Catra off even if, as she says later, she never never hated her. By doing that, Adora casts off the guilt that had dogged her and takes responsibility for her own life rather than someone else’s - this is actually a huge step for her, and one that will become more important in Season 4.

Season 4 is in many ways the nadir of their relationship. They only see each other once during the entire season, in Fluterrina, when Adora tries to blast Catra, much to the latter’s shock. There’s a sense in that scene that Catra is trying to have the same flirtatious enmity she used to have with Adora, and Adora is having none of it. Catra almost seems hurt by this, which is an early hint at how isolated Catra is beginning to feel. Catra spends the rest of the season at her highest and lowest. On the one hand she spends most of 12 episodes winning by every standard she has ever claimed to care about, besting Hordak himself in single combat and making herself co-ruler of the Horde and coming within a day’s march of ending the Rebellion. In many ways it is the ultimate empowerment fantasy - the abused young woman has defeated her abusers, showed up everyone who doubted her and forced everyone to respect her. But I think it’s striking that the show starts with her and Adora dreaming of conquering the world together and in Season 4 Catra nearly succeeds in conquering it alone, almost like she was trying to live out her old shared fantasy while proving she didn’t need her former best friend. 

At the same time, Catra is clearly miserable. She’s always been unhappy, but in Season 4 we see her completely isolated and lying to herself and everyone who will listen in a desperate attempt to justify her actions. Turning the tactics of Hordak and Shadow Weaver against them to gain power and then against Scorpia and Entrapta to maintain it haven’t vindicated Catra, they’ve made her more and more alone as Entrapta is exiled and Scorpia drifts away. Meanwhile Catra reaches out to Double Trouble, and her interactions with them reek of a kind of desperate desire to have someone in her life (the feeling of their interaction is of an unhealthy casual relationship where one partner becomes emotionally invested and the other takes advantage of that while denying the other the closeness they desire). As people leave her, one after the other, it becomes clearer and clearer that Catra doesn’t want power at all - she wants connection, friendship, love, and power is a very poor replacement. As I said in my long Catra rant, Season 4 is both her ‘Walter White as a Catgirl’ season and the beginning of her redemption. Everything comes to head when Sparkles destroys everything Catra has tried to achieve, Double Trouble delivers those harsh truths and Horde Prime shows up and makes it all irrelevant, just highlighting how futile all her struggles and sacrifices and crimes have been.

Meanwhile Adora spends Season 4 becoming her own her and her own woman. After telling off Catra, she grows more and more disillusioned with Light Hope and critical of Glimmer (though the latter has more than a shade of her old habit of taking responsibility for others - Adora’s development is not linear). She’s gained the courage and confidence to strike out her own path, not just follow a destiny. At the season’s end she once again breaks with her best friend to do what is right, and discards the destiny that she was being prepared for. But in this case she isn’t chasing one packaged destiny for another, instead she’s making her own choice and literally shattering the thing that she thought gave her life purpose. It’s badass, and heartbreaking, and along with decking Catra and jumping after Catra into the abyss (see below) it’s the perfect Adora moment.

In many ways Season 5 starts with Catra and Adora farther apart than they have ever been. They aren’t even enemies anymore, they’re completely out of each other’s lives. And both Catra and Adora are lost at the beginning of Season 5 - Catra is useless and alone on Prime’s ship, completely defeated despite ostensibly being on the winning side, and she goes through the motions of her normal plotting without any particular conviction and none of her normal flair. Meanwhile Adora is even more miserable and self-destructive than usual, throwing herself at Horde Bots and working herself until she drops of exhaustion. In a very real way they both stay lost until they have a chance to help the other. Catra takes responsibility for what she’s done and what she can do, saves Glimmer (at least partly for Adora’s sake), apologizes to Adora, and sacrifices herself. Adora only seems to come alive when she decides to turn around, face Prime, and save the cat. And when she does, Catra and Adora’s arcs, which had separated so completely in season 4, come crashing back together to end the series.

Adora during Save the Cat is such a contrast with the uncertain, hesitant and self-destructive wreck we’ve seen so far in Season 5. This is possibly her craziest plan in 3 years of mostly cazy plans, but she never wavers or questions herself. Even when Chipped Catra appears and we see Adora’s heart break while we watch, Adora doesn’t back down or relent. She keeps at it even as the tears stream down her face. She fights better trying to save Catra without She-Ra’s powers than she fought at the Battle of Bright Moon with them. Catra’s just about as desperate - we see her cry and plead, and now is probably as good a time to any to point out how amazing a job both VAs did throughout the show, but especially in this episode, and how good a job the board artists did. 

Seeing each other for the first time in a year, and only the second time since Catra blew everything up, Catra and Adora are probably the rawest and least restrained we’ve ever seen them. There’s barely any banter, no bravado, and no pretense that they are anything other than two women who desperately need each other (Prime doesn’t help with ‘You broke my heart’.) Then Catra is flung to her death, Adora jumps after her, breaks both her legs in the fall (we see her crawl to Catra, as though she couldn’t walk) and becomes the real She-Ra. It’s such a triumphant and deeply queer moment seeing a woman transformed into a warrior goddess to protect the woman she loves, and it’s the reason that, as dark as it is, Save the Cat is my Comfort Food episode.

Let’s not sleep on Taking Control, though. This episode is like a microcosm of what this show does best, especially the A plot with Catra and Adora. Catra’s reversion to lashing out at everyone and her refusal to be open to Adora shows just how much of a struggle this whole ‘being good and trying to connect to people’ thing is. Catra’s outburst gives Adora a chance to stand up for herself and refuse to be Catra’s punching bag, while also not trying to control her. Adora’s ultimatum gives Catra a chance to reach out to Adora (quite literally), and allow herself to be vulnerable. In this episode, we see just how far Catra and Adora have come since the messed up stew of their relationship in Season 1. Adora lets Catra be responsible for her own actions; Catra lets herself be vulnerable to Adora and takes responsibility for her actions. They’re both better people and better friends and better partners than they were, and the show has shown this in a strikingly nuanced and realistic way. 

The important thing to note in the next few episodes of Season 5 isn’t just how much closer Catra and Adora get to each other and how much they flirt (So much. So much, y’all) but just how -happy- they are. We see both of them transformed in the other’s presence. Basically, since they’ve parted, both Catra and Adora have been defined in no small part by how miserable they often are. They have both had their triumphs and their lighter moments, but there’s been a sense of melancholy dogging both Catra and Adora since episode 1. And now that they’re together again, that lifts, somewhat. Catra’s verbal barbs have lost their venom, and she can openly show how much she cares for Adora and even Bow and Glimmer. She’s still herself - snarky, cynical, somewhat devious - but she’s not engaged in a self-destructive zero-sum struggle with everyone around her. Meanwhile Adora has spent 4 seasons being a neurotic and sometimes nearly joyless mess who takes responsibility for everything and often doesn’t let herself enjoy anything other than the odd BFS group hug (exceptions include trying to uh...impress Huntara and reveling with the butterfly ladies of Elberron in Flutterina).  Around Catra, though, she’s a cocky, swaggering jock who gives as good as she gets. It’s a side of Adora we’ve only seen hints of before, and one that’s so much more confident and joyful even as the world is ending around her. Apart, Catra had tried to protect and vindicate herself with power and conquest, while Adora had tried to forget herself in duty and sacrifice. Together, they can be themselves again. This dynamic is crucial to the show’s portrayal of Catra and Adora’s romance because it doesn’t just show how much they love each other, but how they’re -good- for each other now that they’ve grown as people, and that they are so much better than they were when they were apart.

Until Shadow Weaver shows up. Their old abuser reintroduces tensions but even then things are different than they were. Now Catra isn’t just resentful of how Shadow Weaver prefers Adora - she’s  protective of Adora, which is clearest in Failsafe when she calls Shadow Weaver out for being willing to sacrifice Adora. And while Adora takes the Failsafe, it isn’t to follow her destiny or because she has a death wish - it’s because she loves her friends, and she is the only one who has any hope of doing this and living (though Catra’s suggestion that Shadow Weaver take it is a good one). And finally, when Catra leaves Adora, it isn’t because she hates Adora, nor, despite what she says, is it because she really thinks that Adora chose Shadow Weaver. At least, not exactly. It’s because Catra loves Adora, and can admit that to herself, and can’t stay around and watch the woman she loves sacrifice herself rather than choosing Catra. Before Catra leaves, she asks Adora ‘What do you want?” It’s a question that echoes Shadow Weaver’s speech in Episode 1: ‘isn’t this what you always wanted since you could want anything?’ As much as Adora has grown as a person, and defined herself and stood up for what she thinks is right, she still has never answered that question - it’s never been ‘what do I want’ but ‘what do I have to do?’ and that’s how Adora answers Catra’s question. This is Adora’s last gasp as a self-transcending hero, letting go of what she wants (not that she ever dared articulate what that was) in order to do what must be done. And it nearly kills her and dooms the universe, because Adora can’t be the hero that she needs to be by being anyone less than herself.

But it’s losing Catra that inspires Adora to tell off Shadow Weaver for good (not that she’d ever really warmed to her after season 1). And it’s love for Adora that inspires Catra to stand up to Shadow Weaver and demand that she do the right thing. In both cases, Catra and Adora aren’t just standing up to their abuser, but holding her to account for the harm she’s caused, and it’s the love that they have for each other that inspires them to do this. In Catra’s case in particular her refusal to let Shadow Weaver weasel out of finding Adora is a much greater triumph over Shadow Weaver than beating her up and breaking her mask in Season 1 - it’s proof not so much to Shadow Weaver but to Catra herself that Catra really is better than this and that she deserves better than this. It’s not turning her abuser’s tactics against her, but truly holding her to a moral standard and demanding that she do the right thing.

And then there’s Catra and Adora together at the heart. Catra has already come back for Adora and stayed to the end, choosing to die with her even if she can’t share a life together (not out of some death wish, but because Adora needs her). And Adora, who’s been avoiding answering the question for three fucking years, finally let’s herself want Catra when Catra finally confesses her love (breaking the last of her self-protective shields) and asks Adora to stay -for her-. And by admitting what she wants, Adora can truly be at peace with herself and be the hero she needs to be, lesbianism saves the universe, The End.

So anyway, that’s how Catra and Adora’s stories are woven together and how they compliment and comment on each other. Narrativiely, Adora and Catra start together, come apart, find something of themselves, and truly find themselves and each other when they are reunited. Thematically, they are critiquing seemingly opposing narrative tropes - empowerment narratives and narratives of self sacrifice. But by showing the flaws in both types of story and showing how neither self-seeking empowerment nor self-negating self sacrifice can actually make us happy, She-Ra asks and answers more profound questions than most prestige dramas for adults do. I’ll get into how the show sells the idea that the power of love can bring us happiness (and save the world) in a future post. But next up, I’m going to celebrate just how much Catra and Adora’s relationship revels in ambiguity, complexity and contradiction and so tells a grown up love story in a kid’s show.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[grumpy-zane]

In Which a Man is Misplaced - Ft. Dareth in the departed realm. 

[Part 1] -  https://at.tumblr.com/grumpy-zane/in-which-a-man-is-misplaced-ft-dareth-in-the/w93bpc3mta5a

He was let on first before the conductor grabbed the rail. The trolley was packed like sardines and its general bumpiness dared to throw anyone, who wasn’t on their guard, off.

He kept an eye out on the city skyline, swearing that it wasn’t nearly as short as it was moments ago. And just as the thought crossed his mind, he caught a glimpse of the more modern buildings, like a mirage fading in and out of existence.

“What’s the matter?” Favrile interrupted his observing, “besides the obvious.”

Dareth shifted on his feet, “This place is freaky. I’m not the only one who sees all of the weird wobbly buildings right?”

He glanced out down the street, recognizing the trees and trolleyway, the light posts and the newly built steel sky-rail. The first of their time sky-scrapers stood  around in contrast to the ornate buildings surrounding them. “You must be talking about the planes, right?”

“W-what planes?” Were there airplanes he didn't see that caused it?

Favrile gripped onto the top entryway and swung around to get closer, “It was hard for me to adjust to, but the departed realm is full of a lot more things and people than even I can manage. But you don’t see a lot of them because it’s not in your memory. I bet this trolley doesn’t exist in your time, but in my time, I always rode it to get to the beach. You only perceive it because I’m here, and so is everyone else riding it.”

Dareth nodded, understanding it but struggling to comprehend it. “Does the water work that way too?” He pointed up at the ceiling.

“No, Everyone sees that. It wasn’t always like that but a few years ago the water rose and stayed that way. I’m not sure why, but it made the ocean weird.”

Weird was an understatement. The shore that lead into it fell off into a black foggy abyss. From the thick haze that lapped at the sand, large green tendrils jutted out like spires and slowly waved in the watery current above. Many boats floated on the cloud-like sea, with some people swimming happily and others fishing from the docks.

Favrile grabbed a lantern off one of the posts and stepped down the boardwalk stairs onto the green sand. “It’s a dark walk to the cells, stay close, I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

“Cells?? What is all of this? What’s with the tentacles and this??” Dareth moved the ‘water’ around with his hand, the black fog behaving like submerged seaweed around his fingers. He shuddered at the texture, pulling his hand out and wiping it on his pants.

“I would tell you if I knew, but for some reason there’s a prison in the ocean that he likes to hang out and play cards in. They’re all criminals anyway, maybe it feels like home to them,” he grumbled and took his arm impatiently. “Let's go.”

“wait-!” Dareth gasped as the fog enveloped them. The initial coldness rung through his bones and tickled his skin like a million wet feathers, but gradually the feeling went away. They were the only two in the area, it seemed, as nothing but the crunchy moist sand beneath their feet and each other could be seen from the light of the lamp.

Distant echos of whales and the waves churning filled the abyssal ambience, echoing deeper and longer the further they pressed on. No fish swam by, no rocks nor sealife gleamed from the sediment. There was nothing, a deep eternal black that ran on indefinitely both throughout and within. 

The pulsing of his quickened heartbeat corsed through his ears, his breaths sounding like great howling winds. His organs moved within, reminding him that he was alive, and reminding him of the cold, dead hand that pulled him along. 

"Where's the sealife?" Dareth whispered. 

"I've never seen the bottom of the ocean before." The lantern swayed.

"Me neither." He ran a hand across his leather belt. 

It felt like a hour of walking before something new came along. The crunching turned to squelching as the darkness relented and unveiled a grey cavernous prison. Green mist hung around the floor as unsightly beings hung around in dreadded stupor. Iron bars which had once been inlaid were scattered and bent every which way, with some being used as supports for coloured tattered fabrics.

Laughter errupted from the far side from a tent with a warm glow emitting between the seams. 

"-so I said 'Look, we got two options, its your house or the ocean’. And he looked at me and said, 'with how reckless you are it may as well be one and the same!" A bandit gloated, tossing in a few cards. He looked up as the tent doors swung open, "Hey, no trains run down here, Mr. conductor."

Dareth attempted to hide behind Favrile. 

"I'm off the clock. Where's Plaeysey?" Far snarled. 

More cards were tossed onto the poker table, "try the back."

"Hes probably kissing strangers again." Another added. 

Far huffed, "come on Dareth, the sooner we find him the sooner we get out of here."

Meekly, the brown ninja’s eyes glanced around. Something about the atmosphere reminded him of an old show he used to watch called ‘South Sands’, what with the disheveled crooks huddled around shambled tables. Cigarette smoke hung in the air and stained the mint colored wall paper a sickly yellow, wafting around in a grey haze above. He glanced at the poker table as the two went straight for the back curtains, noting the use of ocean glass instead of chips. 

"Plexiglass!" Far barked as he shoved the the curtains open dramatically. 

"Whaddaya want?" Plexi sneered dramatically from the corner, "Im trying to sleep here!" 

Favrile stomped over and shoved thre stool that the theif was using to prop himself up away, causing the chair to fall forwards on its legs. Plexi lifted his long straw basket of a hat to peak an eye at his disruptor. "Favrile, my old friend!" 

"Get up, you owe me, we need your eyes."

Plexi stretched, "we?" 

Dareth scrambled and shuffled up closer, "ah, hi." 

"This guy needs out of here, back to Ninjago." Favrile said. 

Plexi waved a hand and pushed himself up from his seat,  "ghosts cant just waltz out of the departed realm all willy nilly, Far. There's rules to this realm, and I'm already a crook as is, one step worse and 'you know who' might show up and turn me into goop!"

"Please!" Dareth shoved Favrile and latched onto Plexi's poncho, "you have to! I don't belong here! I never died I just got here and I didn't even-!"

"Shh! Hold your honkey big guy, you can't just say that!" Plexi cupped the mans mouth, eyeing around. 

But it was too late as the few others lounging around perked up from their eavesdropping. 

"Oh great look what you've done." Plexi sucked in. 

"What did I do??" 

Far looked to see the others grabbing various utensils and stepping closer. "What's going on?" 

Plexi grabbed Dareth by the collar, his eyes shimmering yellow, "follow me if you value your life, and don't fumble not even once. Far, make an opening!" 

Favrile hesitated before ultimately summoning in one of his two mallets. He held it high towards the closing in stragglers, "back! Back I say!" He swung, hitting one and knocking her out cold. Another jumped on his back as Plexi slipped through the commotion and dragged Dareth with. 

'That man's not dead! The man with the gold chain is alive!' Someone hollered, causing immediate uproot. 

"Favrile!" Plexi shouted just as the chaos errupted. People attempted to stop him and each other, grabbing and stabbing with forks and spoons. Glass shattered as others wisend up, bottles flying and shattering over walls and people. 

Dareth yelped as one broke on his back, hands grabbing and clawing at him as the two weaved and stumbled out the entryway. 

'Stop them!' A voice shouted from behind, alerting even more people. Plexi kept pulling, building up to a full on sprint out of the area and out into the deep black sea.

Despite the adrenaline, Dareth shivered from the submersion once more. "Are they still after us??" He panted as he kicked up sand. 

Plexi dug his heels into the ground, sliding to a stop and halting him with, "no, not yet. How are you? Hurt? Heard you yell." He blindly ran a hand around, patting him down. 

Dareth swallowed and heaved, "just my back, think its tossed out again. Wheres Favrile?" 

"Shoot! Okay dont move, Ill go get him." He let go.

"Wait!" Dareth grabbed at nothing as the footsteps moved away from him. He held his breath and let it out, trying to get a hold of his panting before ultimately giving up. There was nothing to see, not even the ground below or himself, just pitch black filled by the noise of his living presence. He dared not move, lest he wanted to risk the potential of being more lost than he already was. 

Questions swirled in his head, of the broken jail, of why suddenly everyone wanted to get at him. Was being alive in the realm of the dead really such a big deal? "How do I get myself into these things..." he breathed, running a hand through his hair. 

Footsteps crept close and around. He held his breath, and immediately they stopped. "H-hello?" Dareth asked. 

"Why hello there, live-meat." A voice replied in a wicked tone before hands latched onto him. 

Dareth screamed and flailed as laughter errupted. 

"Plexiglass!" Fars voice snapped. 

"I couldnt resist!" Plexi laughed. "Ow!" 

"Oh thank stars.." Dareth sighed in relief, his heart still pounding.

"So you want me to help you help him get home. Whats your name, kid?" 

"Erm, Dareth."

"Oh the pawnbrokers crush. I had a feeling I knew you from somewhere!.. didnt expect you to look like *that* though..." 

Dareth frowned. What was that supposed to mean? 

"well anywho, I think we can get you home, but its dangerous, dangerously high up too. First things first, lets get you two to the surface." Plexi grabbed the two by the arms.

"How do you know where to go? I cant see anything." Dareth asked. 

"Theres a reason why I wanted his help despite his antics," Far answered.

Plexi snorted, "Lets just say, I see more than meets the eye."

[cluescorner]

Who knew about the Abyss?

Ok, so this is more of an idea/speculation post than anything. IDK if I’m gonna do anything with it. 

So, who knew about the Abyss? Obviously the Pale King and Hornet, as we have canonically seen them both in that area. And we can presume that the White Lady knew much of what was happening with the Pale King’s dumbass plan, so it’s safe to say she knows about the Abyss. 

But what about the other people involved in the kingdom’s leadership/the plan? Like, did the 5 Great Knights know? Ogrim obviously knows about the vessels (implied in one of his dream-nail lines) so it feels like the other knights should know too. But did they know how the vessels came to be? Did they know about the millions of dead ones or only the Hollow Knight? Maybe that caused a splintering in the group, causing many to abandon their oaths because WHAT THE FUCK. Or maybe none of them knew and the Pale King kept it a secret. Seems like something he’d do. 

The group that’s most interesting to me is the Dreamers: Lurien, Monomon, and Herrah.

You see, I think Monomon knew. Or she at least knew about the attempts to create a hollow being, based on her lore tablets. But as a scientist and teacher, I can also see her directly helping in the plan, maybe running some tests to see if the vessels are truly ‘hollow’. I also can’t see her agreeing to go along with the plan WITHOUT having intimate knowledge of it. So I feel like she should have known about much of it, likely including the Abyss. After all, if she knows about void she should probably know where it came from. 

Lurien knowing could go either way. I don’t think that he would have ever betrayed his oath, based on his dream-nail dialogue. Even with the knowledge that there are a metric fuck ton of child corpses at the bottom of the Abyss, he wouldn’t have stopped. He would have sealed regardless. But because of this blind loyalty, I can also see him not caring enough to know. So, it’s a toss up. 

There’s NO FUCKING WAY Herrah knew. Like, fucking none. Herrah would have abandoned the plan, stolen the Hollow Knight away from the Pale King, and flip off everyone involved for good measure. First of all, she already probably hates the Pale King because he’s trying to colonize her kingdom. She only agreed to help him to get a demigod heir for deepnest/ a child of her own. She does not need further excuses to loathe everyone involved in Hallownest. Second, Herrah is Hornet’s mother and the Pale King is her father. If Herrah figured out that the father of her only daughter killed the rest of his children by putting them in the Abyss and saying “First one up gets abused, the rest get dead”, it doesn’t exactly leave a good track record for Hornet. Third, Herrah would be so horrified at the idea of these two parents, who pride themselves on establishing ‘civilization’ within the area, killing literally all but one of their children that she’d probably bail on the plan right then and there. Not to mention that she’d take one look at The Hollow Knight and go “Yeah, this is fucked. I’m your mom now, come to Deepnest with Hornet and I.” and not take no for an answer. 

TLDR; Monomon probably knew about the Abyss or at least knew enough to know how exactly the Hollow Knight happened, the 5 Great Knights and Lurien are a toss-up, and I want an AU where Herrah found out about the Abyss because it DEFINITELY didn’t happen in canon. 

[sunnygrey99]

The Silent Witch In The Woods Pt. 6

~Trigger Warning: Gore, Typical TWD warnings. Mentions of oc death, brief attempted suicide descriptions (minors DNI)~

A/N: This chapter has been added after the original chapters were posted. All previous chapters have been edited. I don't really know what happened and why this chapter was lost to the abyss but I think it should have been posted originally. The old part 6 is now part 7. The rest of this story will be posted soon. There are 2 more chapters already written and should wrap up this series. Sorry for any confusion and I'll be updating my tag list and and masterlist post to make up for it. Thanks for all the support everyone.

Much love,

Sunny <3

It’s finally fall and the chill in the autumn air brushs against your skin causing you to pull your cloak shut. It is a thick enough material to shield you from the cold but not overheat you from the day's work. This time of year runs are fewer in numbers and everyone focuses on growing and harvesting the resources that they have in the town. You have been placed in charge of overseeing the field harvests and making sure it gets delivered to the community kitchens to get canned or processed. Daryl has been tasked to help you repair any of the harvest equipment and fencing to keep walkers out. It keeps you all busy but you never go more than an hour without Daryl being right there to see if you need anything. His friendly looks start to make you feel less and less content with just being friends with the man. It’s refreshing having things be so calm and seemingly normal, but the feelings that rise everytime you see the man are putting you on edge. Unsure if its from still being distrustful of people or from never having felt this way before. 

Maggie stops by every now and again to check-in. She keeps giving you a look that at first you were confused about but now you have started to catch on. Daryl could have been put anywhere else and maybe even been more useful, but the council put him with you and the look in her eyes suggests that she had something to do with that. It isn’t till you look over to where you know Daryl has been working for the last 30 minutes and feel all the air get knocked from your lungs that you completely understand. He had taken his top shirt off and wrapped it around his waist. His white tank top soaked through from sweat as he hammered away at the fence. You can just barely make out the demon tattoo poking out from his shirt. It’s enough to leave your mouth dry and your heart pounding in your chest. 

Maggie snuck up next to you. You about jumped out of your skin as you felt her nudge your arm. "I see you are enjoying the job that the council gave you" She winks as you look over, feeling the intense burn of a blush.

I'm enjoying it a bit too much I think. Your blush stays as intense and you have to turn fully to Maggie or risk going back to staring at Daryl's glistening skin and beautiful arms at work. Everything about the way he moves makes you think of the most indecent activities the two of you could do together.

She chuckles at your expense for a moment, "You gonna do anything about that?"

You roll your eyes and sign a simple no. Maggie and most of the council had started to learn some sign a few weeks back. It has been a big help in town especially when your markers dry up. The two of you spend another few minutes catching up before you both have to go back about your daily duties.

~~~

Later in the evening, you get home a little after Daryl. The familiar smell of his cooking wafts through the air. It smells amazing as you round the corner and watch silently as Daryl moves about the kitchen. You can’t help the swell of happiness and pride as you see him pluck some of the fresh herbs you’ve planted by the window and smell them before adding it to the pot. It looks as if he’s making a big pot of chili or stew to save mostly for later. You find yourself just leaning against the archway, wondering if this is what life would have ended up like for you if the world never ended. Would you still have met this quiet and kind man? Would you have gotten a chance to woo him when you still had a voice? Would he even have been the same person, and would you have been any different? They are questions that all faded away the second Daryl looked up and caught your eye. His face reddened just like your own.

"Dinner is almost ready if ya want some." He nods to the pot on the stovetop. You smile and tuck some hair behind your ear before moving toward the cabinets to grab a couple of bowls. You effortlessly pull the dishes out and feel eyes on you as you do so. When you finally look over to Daryl his own eyes quickly end up back on the pot of stew as he silently dishes them out and gives one to you. You sign a quick thank you before sitting and waiting for Daryl. "Sorry Rick and the others stuck me on yer team. I feel like I ain't all that useful to ya." He sits next to you and starts digging in as if he hadn't eaten all day.

No, you are actually one of the most useful people on the team. Thanks for fixing so much stuff for us lately. Things fall into a comfortable silence as you both eat.

It isn't until you both finish and start to take care of the dishes that Daryl speaks back up. "I uh...can I ask how you lost yer voice?" It’s a quiet question and you almost missed it. You carefully set the bowls in the sink as shame fills your guts and you turn to Daryl. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you slowly bring your hands up. You hesitate before Daryl speaks again seeing your conflict written on your face. "Ya ain't gotta tell me. I get it if it's too much."

No, I want to tell you. You hesitate again, hands seemingly frozen before taking a deep breath. Daryl lets you take your time as he patiently leans against the counter. When my son passed I didn't take it well. I tried to hang myself. I must have tied the rope wrong because all it did was damage my vocal cords and leave a nasty bruise. They said I'd likely never talk again so I learned to sign. It’s the first time you've actually told anyone this story. It has you on the brink of tears and you don't want more of another reminder of your shortcomings. You turn back to the dishes and push the emotion back down allowing that numbness to settle back in. You feel Daryl brush slightly against you as he pulls a towel and starts drying the dishes as you wash silently. A welcome comfort that not many have ever offered you even before the world ended.

"When I was real young. My dad wasn't too nice a person. He never really changed and my old ma wasn't much better. Mom never laid a hand on us but she sure as hell didn't stop that old bastard from doin' it." You weren't expecting him to confide in you so suddenly and unprompted. It is kind of him to share such intimate information with you about his past after you'd done the same. You watch as he dries the last dish and puts it away. "But anyway, when I was 17 I stole his bike and tried to flip it on the highway. Somehow I made it out with hardly a scratch on me. Wasn't till I got home that I got the nastiest scars I'd ever get."

You can see the tears in his own eyes as he turns back to you. It’s an instant reaction to just wrap your arms around his midsection and hold him as tight as he is willing to let you for as long as he will let you. It takes a moment for him to wrap his arms back around you just as tight and unwilling to let go. It takes a long time for either of you to break apart the electric and comforting embrace. We should go to bed. He only nods to you and goes about turning off the lights and heading to his room and you to yours.

Your nightly routine consists of getting in your comfiest pajamas that you're able to find, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally climbing in your cold lonely bed. You've found yourself crying again for another two hours as quietly as you can muster. Tossing and turning in bed as you try your best to make it stop. You don't even notice the figure approaching your bed until a calloused hand gently grabs your arm. It has you shooting up with a blade in hand before you realize it’s just Daryl. Christ Daryl, you scared the shit out of me.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to." He speaks softly and you slowly lay back down setting your blade back under your pillow. You watch as Daryl sits next to you on the bed. He looks as if he wants to ask you a thousand different things but you don't want to talk. Without much other thought, you lift the blanket and give enough room for him to lay next to you. He hesitates before sliding in and laying on his back next to you. After a few moments, you're able to stop crying and wipe the tears away. Sliding back over and hooking an arm around Daryl had him sliding his under your head and pulling you to his chest. It doesn't take much longer for the both of you to drift off into the first deep sleep you've each had in a long time. 

~~~

By the time morning comes around you and Daryl had wrapped around each other in such a way that reminds you of an old married couple that never lost the love for each other. It’s soothing as you listen to Daryl's heart beating in his chest and feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing. You feel the need to pull him closer in for warmth from the chill in the room’s morning air. As you do so your entire front presses against his. Your eyes snap open from the sleepy haze as you first notice that Daryl stopped breathing and his heart is hammering in his chest. That’s when you notice the hard bulge that’s now pressed against your thigh that you have thrown over his lap. In quick thinking, you decide to pretend like you hadn't noticed. You look up to him with sleepy confusion on your face and pull your arms up to lazily sign. You okay Daryl?  It’s hard to hide the blush that makes its way to your cheeks though. Your own heart is pounding away in your chest as you hope he at least catches on that you don’t mind his morning state. 

Daryl hesitates before relaxing slightly and nodding. He places a hand gently on yours before starting to get up. "I should go get started on breakfast so we can get started on the day." You sigh at the loss of warmth but decide to get up and ready to follow after him and get started on work.

Part 7

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[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Ooooo expanding on tired anon’s ask imagine that you went back to the abyss after your battle with Childe, and one day when he goes there in his foul legacy form, he finds you there, he’s so happy to see you, and you don’t recognize him- you assume he’s another abyssal monster after your life. He ends up collapsing after your battle, and you carefully approach him. Since you were human and didn’t have a vision, any resources you could get in the abyss were valuable. He flinched when you touch him, but you see how soft his fur is. You carefully pet it and he leans into the touch. he’s in distance where he could hurt you, so why isn’t he fighting back? That’s when you realize. He wasn’t trying to fight you in the first place- or at least not kill you. You take pity on the monster, rubbing your fingers through his fur as he purs. You leave to go get something, moving out of view of him. While you’re gone, he ends up shifting out of his form, now that the battle has ended and he’s expended all his energy, but this freaks you out- and you run away. He wants to chase after you, but he’s weak after fighting. He just wants to feel what it’s like to be in your arms again, safe and purring.

Since you don’t actually see the shift, it is a question to you whether or not it was actually him. Do you make the connection?

-chain link anon

referring to this post- you know if there's one thing i like more than angst it's people expanding on each other's brainrots and i will certainly help!!! >:D

he's not expecting to be bested while he's in his Foul Legacy form, especially since he knows you don't have a Vision (at least you didn't when he last saw you) but your refined reflexes and still-considerable battle prowess combined with him being caught off guard from seeing you results in you defeating and leaving him collapsed on the ground. he regains hope when you hesitate when touching his fluff, instead moving your hand to tentatively pet him, and he almost outwardly whimpers at the sense of loss he gets when you move away to get something. he's slipping in and out of consciousness but hears you stumble backwards and your hurried footsteps run away when his Foul Legacy form disappears and almost cries in frustration because when you wove your fingers through his fur was the first time he's felt safe and at home and genuinely cared for and at ease for months and he desperately wants to run after you but he can't. get. up.

you on the other hand have become jaded and cautious after your experiences- you always knew Ajax was the stronger of the two of you yet it's you who ended up living in the Abyss. when the monster you just fought seemingly shifts back into Ajax- or Tartaglia, you guess- you start to wonder if you're actually going crazy and freak out and run away. you're pretty sure the monster and Ajax are the same people, they have the same hair color and Vision, and you know that inside you actually really want to company but all you can think of is his crazed expression during the Harbinger battle and the thrill he got out of fighting you until he actually injured you.

and you know he'll probably come looking for you, which is terrifying but also gives you a small sliver of hope that you can maybe have a companion even for a little bit.