#he deserves a hundred deaths for what he did to my babie

[evilkaeya]

We're hating on professor N tonight I see let's put that motherfucker under a saw machine

[nkogneatho]

𝐈𝐃𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐘.

—a/n: just a toji thought i can't get off my head. this ain't a fic or anything but i need to tell you this. but tell me if i should write a fic on it tho. major character death, gn!reader, angst, jjk major spoilers.

toji broke up with you on the day he went to fight gojo. despite showing nothing but utter confidence, there was a tiny ration of his heart aware that he might not come home to you tonight. he might not get to eat the meal you prepared. he might not get to wrap his arms around you. the thought of you being alone, waiting for him with a smile on your face...he couldn't bear it. so he did what he always does. masks himself as the villian.

before leaving for the fight, he'd tell you how he's lost feelings for you, escalating the ground beneath your world. what did he mean? all of a sudden? what happened? your brain immediately started replaying memories, desperately hoping to find a reason where did it go wrong. You started crying, begging for him to give you a reason, or did you do something wrong but his face showed not a single shred of remorse. It felt someone stabbed your heart with an object big enough to hurt it, but not strong enough to pierce it, to leave you with an agonizing pain.

so when you leave your shared apartment—don't think you'll ever say that word again—after packing your things, hating his guts with all you've got, he sighs in satisfaction. When you're at the door, gracing him with one last glance of yours, your brows furrowed, all you could witness was him smiling. you hated him even more. Here you were, hurting, and all he did was smile? did he find someone else? but you didn't have the privilege to keep wanting him anymore so you left.

When you were crashing at a friend's place, Shiu gave you call. You tried to ignore it but 10 missed calls back to back means something.

"Toji's dead. The head of the Gojo Clan killed him." Your world shifted once again. This time, swifter than the breakup. You asked a hundred questions, denying, desperately trying to find a loophole out of this pain but Shiu answered them all as if it was the truth. And to your unfortune, it was. You've never cried harder.

But, when you happen to witness him at Shibuya, you convinced yourself that either you were hallucinating or he was doppelganger. When he locked eyes with you, his lips widened in a smile. Tears formed in your eyes. You immediately jumped in his arms.

"missed me that much, huh? i guess you don't hate me anymore" he said, arms wrapped around you.

"shut up and kiss me." when his lips crashed against yours, it felt like heaven. you've been deprived of this for years and now you finally had it. you knew why he broke up with you. toji tried to convince you to leave since he wasn't real. just an incarnation going to leave again for good, but years later your denial stage wasn't over as you tried to make him stop talking with your kisses.

"baby," he whispered. "I have to leave. It's time you go."

"No." Your voice firm but crumbled in seconds when you realized he won't listen to you anyways. "I don't care if you're not real. I need you. You can't just walk away again. You still have to make up for breaking up with me."

"Sweetheart, please." He sighed, trying to keep his composure but tears rolled down his eyes, a sight the world never witnessed but you.

"Toji. . .I know you wanted to protect my feelings so you made up all that breakup thing. . . but baby it still hurt. Nothing in this world can make me stop loving you. I hated you for it but I hated you because I love you so. damn. much"

"I am sorry. I love you and I am sorry I was so bad to you. I never deserved you. I never deserved your light, but thank you for gracing me with it." His hands started pushing you away.

"No. Stay. Toji!"

"I will always be by your side." In a quick second, he grabbled the broken part of the sword and stabbed his head.

"No. . . no. To—Toji? NO, BABY. TOJI!" you sobbed, crying as loud as ever as you held the corpse of a stranger morphed back to it's orginal body.

"Always be by my side? You left me, you motherfucker," you cried.

Ironic how there was a dead body lying on your lap, but you were the one experiencing death. Knowing everything he did in his life after he met you was to keep you safe from others, yet he was the one causing your heart the most pain right now. But how do you hate a criminal who also happens to be your saviour?

[mayearies]

✰ RECORD BOY

miles morales loves music but he loves you more. genre: fluff

warnings: rio and me are married (correction: every person with the last name 'morales' is married to me) a/n: dont come at me yes i know his birthday was a week ago but i had this idea and i just 😭 i had to write it plus i didnt give him a proper happy birthday so 😢 pretend i posted this on his actual birthday ALSO RIO CONTENT YAYAAYAYAY

one of maye's personal favorites :D

e1610 miles had been your boyfriend for a while, and today was his special day. you contemplated for a while what your gift would be for him. he was the best you've ever had. of course he deserved the best gift ever. sooner or later, the answer was given to you.

—you politely knocked on the door of the morales household with a box wrapped in wrapping paper and tied with a bow. specifically black and red, cause y'know. rio opened the door and a smile lit up on her face. not like the sarcastic one she had when she first met you.

"hi, hun. you here for miles?"

as you stepped in, the room smelled of vanilla and ink? weird combo, yeah? "mhm, just wanted to swing by and say a quick 'happy birthday' to him."

"oh, that's sweet. he's in his room. ¿quieres un cupcake?" "oh! n-no, gracias."

considering how often you visited miles, you tended to pick up some spanish from his mom, which she gladly taught you. rio treated you like you were a close friend, which made miles happy to say the least. "i see your spanish has improved."

"yeah, thanks ms. morales." "of course! you're special person in my son's life, i owe it to you."

♡ well, you thought that was a little too high of a praise. it felt like the morales' were givers. like if someone were to do something for them which they said was small or no big deal, they would take it to an extent. it's something you would think about time to time. nonetheless, they were grateful of how trusting you were.

you pushed the cracked door of miles' room and found him where he always was—at his desk drawing in his sketchbook with his headphones on, humming along. you wonder how hard you fell for him when you first met.

you tapped his shoulder lightly, disturbing his quote on quote singing, he smiled brightly when he saw you. "hey, love."

he engulfed you into a big hug. his shirt was cozy and he smelled sweet. "baby! you came!"

"of course i did! how could i miss your birthday?" "you missed valentines day-" "hush."

miles clearly eyed the box as you asked him how he was doing. he gave short answers and sometimes ask you to repeat what you said. you sighed with a playful smile, "you wanna know what's in the present, don't you?"

"yes pleaseee."

you two sat on his bed and miles gently untied the bow and ripped the wrapping paper. the look on his face once he saw what was inside was nothing short of surprise. you smiled as he looked over to you with a shocked face. "you're serious?"

"uh huh. happy birthday, spidey."

♡ you went down to the record store and bought roughly around half a hundred worth of albums. of course knowing miles loves music basically to death, you knew all of his favorite artists. tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, pinkpantheress, bryson tiller, sza, to name a few. you had to get him albums for his record player.

miles sighed and changed his tone into somewhat more whiney as he put his head on you lap. "noo, don't do this to me, amor. i can't accept these."

"too bad, accept them." "but i don't even use my record player anymore! i know you are not out here buying me $20 albums on vinyl, ma." "it's fine, i'll make back the money. and let's put that record player to good use, yeah?" "... god, i love you and your persistence. makes you hotter in my opinion." "that's cause i know what you like."

♡ you took him to the rooftop and danced with him until sunset where you just sang songs together. it was the best birthday miles had so far, spending it with his favorite person. that person used to be a stranger.

"happy birthday, my record boy♡"

© mayeluvsu

[chibsandchill]

How to secure a future

Fandom: HOTD (House of the dragon)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x AFAB!reader (no use of Y/N or pronouns)

Summary: Aemond’s delusions about besting his Uncle in combat comes real, and he lives out the aftermath of the war in a cabin with you. Only, it’s not enough. 

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, Aemond Targaryen, mentions of Daemon, allusions to sex, descriptions of murder and gore, metaphorical self-harm, unhealthy relationships, Aemond has truly given in to the delulu, toxic behavior and mindset, spelling and grammatical mistakes (English is my second language), allusions to cannibalism, Aemond baby-traps you, etc

Masterlist

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

If Aemond knew anything it would be obsession. That gut-wrenching longing, the want for more;  the bottomless pit of darkness – a starved beast rattling rusty bars, frothing at the mouth for more. Every inhale heavy with hatred and jealousy, his blood thick as tar with envy, he was a mere shell of a man driven only by the desire to possess. To conquer. His uncle – Daemon – was much the same. His brother too. Though, Aemond thought himself cut from a different cloth. Same material, same maker, but Aemond was driven by love, he ached for the chaos that the chase brought. He thirsted for the blood of your enemies, a thirst that could never be quenched. 

Or could it? 

Had he not cut his beloved uncle from cock to eyes he might have asked for advice. Perhaps then he would be more like the prince his mother wanted and less like a rabid beast drowning in a sea of longing. Wave after wave threatened to pull him under. Sometimes he wanted to let it take him. There could be pleasure in that too. Is there a better death than one in pursuit of you? You’d cry so sweetly over his corpse. 

No, 

the thought disgusted him. He was the one deserving your affection, your tears, your pain. All of it. All his, his, his, his. 

Alas, 

Daemon, his severed cock and all his wisdom (for all the good it did him) laid buried beneath hundreds upon thousands of men in an unmarked grave, and so could not say much at all. 

If only his mother knew what Aemond was truly up to when he said he’d take Vhagar for a flight. She’d cry. Perhaps even strike him. He wouldn’t feel it, so he’d let her. Her words couldn’t hurt him anymore than the back of her hand could – not even his brother’s depravity elicited a reaction from him anymore. Their blades grew as dull as the scars they had left behind, more akin to a cold summer’s breeze than a sword through the gut. How could they hurt when you cut him so deeply? When you looked past him as if he was one of many in a crowd but you’d move so sweetly against him when he visited you at night; when you looked at him and saw nothing, but he looked at you and you were everything. 

The dragon fire in his heart was helpless against the cold left in your absence, he was a man without purpose, with naught but envy, envy, jealousy and longing and spite keeping him at your heels. Even when you were in the same room did he long for you, burn with envy at the sight of your friends sitting next to you, of your cousin who smoothed down wayward hairs, of your uncle who pushing in your chair, of the clothing that clung to you, of the very air you breathed, the blood in your veins, everything. There was not a thing he did not envy for their closeness to you, and not a thing he had not thought of tearing away so he could take his rightful place. 

Were he a better man he would write you poems. Mountains of them. Through mangled hands and bloody fingers would he write scroll after scroll declaring his love and devotion in flowery prose and sweet, sweet words that dripped with adoration. 

But Aemond was a dragon prince and he dealt in chaos, burning possession and fiery jealousy. It was all blood and gore and violence, but Aemond liked to imagine that before the war when he still had that softness to him that his grandsire made sure to beat out of him, he’d woo you with soft hands and smiles and flirtatious words spoken through giggles at grand events, and kisses stolen in gardens. 

But you saw through the flames and violence and saw Aemond for what he was. You had to. You did. He knew you did. He covered you in blood and through a wobbly smile and tear-filled eyes Aemond swore he saw your future together. 

And he grabbed a hold of that future with no intentions of letting go. 

“Honey, I’m home.” 

Aemond locked the door to the cabin behind him. Swinging from his hand was an unlit lantern. It sparked to life without much protest and a pleasant glow lit up the room. Gaunt faces drawn with unsteady hands on water-logged parchment stared down at him from where they hung precariously from rusty nails lodged in moldy walls. It hadn’t begun to smell yet – the mold – but the air was humid. 

“Aemond.” 

“Hello.” He placed the lantern on the kitchen table. It shook under its meager weight. Aemond would have to get you a new one for the new house. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a prisoner misses the headman.”

“Time has not dulled your tongue, my love. I’m glad.” 

You hummed. 

“Have you eaten?” He asked. 

“Yes.”

“Good. I brought dessert.” 

Aemond set the table. Two plates, both cracked, and a fork for you and a spoon for him. You have no glasses, not anymore, so he brought two wooden mugs with him. The handles have splintered from overuse but they served their purpose. He brought two lemon squares dusted with powdered sugar and candied lemons from the kitchens. Perhaps you’d even taste one of them this time. 

The smell filled the room, but you didn't move. 

Aemond let out a sigh as he placed the treats on the plates. “It’s your favorite.”

“Were. They were my favorites.”

His eye twitched. 

“My cousin used to steal platters of them from the kitchen the night before my nameday.” You mused. Aemond knew this already but said nothing in fear that you’d go back to silence. The sweet lilt in your voice warmed him ever so pleasantly. “They were my favorite because they were hers.” 

“Would you rather I bring something else?” 

“Candles. I don’t like the dark.” 

Odd, considering how you clung to the shadows of the room to avoid him. Aemond loved the chase. You knew that. 

“Of course.” He agreed with a dip of his head. “Anything you want.” Within reason. 

“Anything?” You pressed. “I want to go outside.”

“No.”

“Why? The war is over, isn’t it? Aemond, please, I haven’t seen the sun in months.”

The real answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he’d never let them go. You wouldn’t like it. And for what did you need the sun when he was here? He brought a lantern, did he not? He was your sun, and your moon and even the stars. In this cabin nothing could hurt you without his permission, no one could find you and take you away, nothing to leach the warmth from you or dull your smile. He could not shine like you, so he had to bring it with him, unlike you who shone like the brightest star whenever you entered a room. He had lived for far longer than a few months in darkness, with mere glimpses of your light and warmth. The gaping hole in his chest had festered and rotted the longer he carried on, but no longer. Each day when you smiled at him as he entered the cabin tore the corruption from him, your laugh cleansed him off the darkness gripping him. He was reborn by your grace. 

“Perhaps tomorrow, darling.” 

You huffed. 

“Oh. I almost forgot.” Aemond pulled out a locket from his pocket. It was made of gold and lined with red rubies. “I had this made for you.” 

His chest burned as you moved out of the shadows. They clung to you, tugged at you with their dirty fingers. Your steps are almost silent against the floor, but the rattling of chains is louder than thunder. 

A precaution. 

“What is it?” Your fingers curl around his wrist. 

The words died in his throat. You were so warm, your touch soft as silk against his scarred wrist. he had never known a gentle touch before you. Gentle did not make dragons strong, and they certainly didn’t create strong towers capable of withstanding a dragon’s attack. But he had no use of dragon fire in here, or twisted claws, or strong walls to keep you out when all he wanted was to have you closer. 

Here he was simply Aemond. And he was almost… content. 

Almost. 

“It’s a locket.” He cleared his throat. “Look.”

He flipped it open to reveal a portrait he had commissioned of the best artist in King’s Landing, and on the other side he had your favorite flower preserved. A token of his love; everlasting. Much like the flower it would never wilt, never change. He burned for you now just as he did before. He was as addicted to you as his father had been to the milk of the poppy before he passed. You consumed his every thought. 

“Oh, Aemond.” You whispered. “It’s lovely. Thank you.” 

You pressed a kiss against his cheek whilst placing your hand on the other one. Wildfire spread under the skin you touched. 

“I understand it can get lonely-”

He didn’t (couldn’t) understand, but his mother made sure he was a skilled diplomacist, and so he spat out the words as though they were poison. You were two parts of a whole, how could you be lonely when all he wanted, all he needed was you. 

“It’s okay! Truly. I like it here.” You rushed out. 

He allowed himself to bask in your touch. His clenched fist relaxed, but despite your light, your warmth, your love, the root of his darkness could not be touched. In a way, he didn’t want you to. He feared that if you reached that part you would be tainted, or worse, you would take it from him. That part allowed him to do what it takes to love you like you deserve. 

But you never would find it. He had torn at himself until he was in a thousand pieces, drifting in the wind after you. Gradually he stitched himself together, then tore the stitches and created himself anew. Mangled and broken did he wander two steps behind you, darkness oozing from the crude stitching and infested wounds. Truly a monster. Until he made himself whole again. For you. Like you. In your image he made himself anew. He tore the wings from his back, the claws from his fingers and the fire from his chest so that he may never burn you. He tore himself from the sky so that he might see you one last time. Again and again he tore flesh from bone, bone from flesh, until he began to resemble what you needed, what you desired. A thousand layers of flesh to hide the remains of a beast unworthy of you. 

Still, he could tear at himself until nothing remained, could press himself against you until all that remained of him was fading warmth, and it still would not lessen the longing he felt for you, the heart-crushing need to be closer. The seeds of doubt, of what-if’s threatened to undo all that he had made himself. 

If he allowed you but one candle, would you cast him aside? If he was not your light, would you cast him aside? He was nothing without you. Would you think the sun’s warmth superior to his? It would steal your affection, and he would be forced to wander the darkness alone again. Though he did not think he would survive this time, for he had been shown what being with you was like. 

“Good.” He managed to choke out, dull pressure growing behind his eyes at the reminders. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” 

“How- how is my mother?” 

“Thriving. Your father hired that gardener from Dorne.” Aemond placed his hand over yours. 

“Good.” You smiled with glassy eyes. “Good. That’s… good. I’m… happy for her.”

 Aemond nodded. 

He would never tell you the truth. 

Your mother carried that same unnatural warmth as you, and her blood felt like fire. Your father felt like ice. How the mix created you, Aemond would never know. The gardener had heard them. He tasted like the desert – dry, hot and awful. 

It was one of the best nights of his life, and he had left you unable to walk properly for days after. 

Now they could never take you from him. 

Their weakness disgusted him. How easily they had abandoned you. Aemond would not stop protecting you even in death. 

“Yes. Will you eat with me?”

“Oh. Thank you for the gifts but I’m not hungry.” You pulled away from him and he was once more plunged into the icy depths that was being parted from you. His skin crawled with the absence of you. 

His teeth ground together. “That’s fine.” 

“I had a lot of dinner. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

It wasn’t. Did you think him incapable of providing for you? 

The lemon squares dripped onto the floor. They coated his fists. 

“I- Maybe next time.” 

“Do you not love me anymore?”

Tense silence fell over the room. 

“What?” You asked, stunned. 

“Do. you. not. love. me?”

“O-of course I do!”

His eyes burned. “Is there someone else?”

“Aemond! What’s gotten into you?! There’s only you.”

“Is it the farmer?” 

“No!” 

“The stable boy?”

“No! Aemond, please! You lock the door every time you leave. There’s no one else.”

“It’s me then.” 

“Did Aegon say something to you? Is that why you’re behaving like this?” Your face reddened, but for all the wrong reasons. 

Disgust coiled in his stomach as his brother’s name left your mouth. 

“My apologies.” He inclined his head. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I shouldn’t have accused you of such filth. I knew you would never betray me like that.”

Aemond felt like a fool. Somewhere along the way he had miscalculated, had missed a piece of corrupted flesh and stitched it along his love and devotion to you. He knew you loved him. Of course you did. You were meant for each other. Two pieces of a whole torn apart by cruel gods. He would need to tear it out, and begin anew. Once more would he bathe himself in blood and fire to become worthy of you. 

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I understand.” 

He barely heard your words. He felt as though he was underwater.  Drowning, drowning, drowning. It was dark, cold, silent, and you were not there. 

How could he cement his place next to you? He had coiled himself around you after you joined together, had left himself inside you so not even that would tear you apart. As you slept he would press himself closer to you, his hold would tighten like a snake coiling around prey until you whimpered, and yet he was not close enough. His knees felt weak. It could never be enough, this would never be enough. Surely there was a way. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Let me make it up to you.” He heard himself saying. 

“There’s nothing to make up for.” 

So understanding. 

“Even so. I’ve missed you.” 

A sharp inhale, and then his lips were on yours. It felt like coming home, like completion. The missing piece returned to the puzzle. He had spent hours trying to put the feeling into words, and yet came up empty-handed. There weren’t a lot of thoughts swirling around his mind when he was pressed against you like this. Not when his hands had already begun to wander down your waist until he gripped your hips. You let out a surprised sound but you welcomed his touch, your own hands coming up to rest on his chest. 

Somehow you make it to the bedroom. Aemond shrugged off his coat and shoes before pushing you down on the bed. Your pupils are dilated, a delightful blush coated the apples of your cheeks, and you were smiling at him again. 

Oh, that smile. 

“Gods.” He whispered. 

Aemond’s hands shook as he began unlacing his shirt, then his trousers, his shoes. They were all thrown in a pile. They didn’t matter. His hands were steady, sure, and gentle as he pulled at the frail strings holding your dress together. It came undone easily enough, and pooled around your hips. 

Just as he leaned down to kiss along the curve of your neck, the lantern went out. It mattered not to Aemond who was used to the darkness, and he knew your body like the back of his hand. Your head lulled to the side and you sighed softly. 

And if a few weeks after that night you greeted him in tears when he returned for the night with the beginnings of a swollen stomach, then that was no one’s business but his and yours. 

[almondamaretto]

chris x volleyball!reader pleasepleasepleaseplease

or chris/matt fluff im good with either! Thank you so much!

honestly i think doing sports/hobbies!reader x matt and chris would be really cool!!

chris x volleyball!reader hcs

warnings: some sfw parts and some nsfw parts!! mentions of injury

i actually did volleyball once 😎 (it was 8th grade and i broke my arm in an unrelated activity 4 games in...)

— tries his hardest to come to every single game you have. he's a busy guy, always recording and planning out new ideas, he's always doing something different—but he refuses to miss your games.

— matt is actually so tired of him 'cause he is constantly driving chris to some random place.

— he has most def spent hundreds of dollars just on ubers to your games.

— we all know that chris is into sports, watching, playing, all that fun stuff. bro would 100% get too invested in the game.

"red card? for fucking what!?" his hands shoot up as he exclaimed to no one in particular, rolling his eyes and groaning as the other team was awarded a point.

— secretly cusses out refs when they give you penalty cards:

"what a fuckass ref"

"bro's never made a correct call in his entire career."

— doing a full 180 when the referee doesn't card you for something you fully deserved a card for

"best ref i've ever seen, hands down!"

— after winning a game he's congratulating you in every way possible. a tight hug as he kisses you all over your face, picking you up by your ass to hold you even closer.

— after losing a game he's pulling you into a long hug, burying your face in his chest as he comforts you, rocking you back n forth as he pets your hair.

— go to hand placement is directly on ur ass.

— will definitely smack your ass at every opportunity. walking a step in front of him? going up the stairs in front of him? oh fs

— will absolutely play with you/ help you practice (he's lowk terrible at it and spikes the ball way too much to actually help you but he's cute so does it really matter?)

— if you get an injury during a game my man is gonna be jumping over people to make sure you're okay. doesn't matter if its a sprained finger or a broken foot he is inconceivably concerned probably worse off than you lets be honest.

— will 100% try to take care off you if its a bad injury, going with you to the hospital, doctor's office, physical therapy—you name it, he is right by your side.

nsfw below !

— your uniform actually has him on his knees every game.

— those tight little spandex shorts never fail to create a tent in his pants !! he thinks he might actually go crazy every time you invite him to games, he knows what to look forward to after

— like yeah sure he's watching and enjoying the game your ass !!

— its js something about the way you look resting your hands on your knees, jersey riding up to show off your ass... all of a sudden he's tugging at the crotch of his pants and praying no one happens to glance down.

— god forbid he catch another man even looking in your general direction. bro is taking you home fucking you 2 inches from death. you’re his girl, no one else’s.

— either super sweet and loving sex after winning a game or rough sex filled with praise and teasing.

"y'did so good today ma, gonna make you feel so good."

"gonna fill you up, show you how proud i am of you."

— rough, angry sex whenever you lose esp if you get an attitude with him, either you or him on top—he wants you to do whatever you need to feel better, he hates seeing his baby upset ☹️

"take it out on me, ma."

"gonna fuck that attitude out of ya."

— chris is actually just horny 99% of the time

[zuko-always-lies]

AITA, Reddit?

So I (60M) grew up the crown prince of this country bent on world conquest. I figured I might as well as get involved in the family business, so I joined in and spent a few decades conquering places. This had the added benefit of making my divine monarch father (95 M but he's dead) happy, plus I knew from a dream I had when I was seven that I had a divinely blessed destiny to conquer Ba Sing Se, which is like the biggest city ever.

Anyways, this whole "conquering things" and burning them down went on for a while, and I even got my wonderful son (20M but also dead unfortunately) involved too. All the while my younger brother(45M) was jealous and would often throw temper tantrums about my success. He would complain that our dad favored me over him, what was absolutely not true at all. I loved my brother to death though but he just never seemed to really grow up. I think it's my fault maybe for not guiding him properly.

Anyways, eventually my brother married my sister in law(35F). They seemed like a great match and were having kids in no time. They had two kids, my nephew (17M) who I took a liking to even when he was a baby and a girl (15F) who always seemed fussy and unfeminine.

Anyways, when my nephew was like 8 myself and my son took off with a huge army to besiege Ba Sing Se for like 600 days. It was bloody affair but you can't go carrying out world conquest and fulfilling destinies without breaking a few hundred thousand eggs. I even got my nephew a gift I looted from an enemy general, a knife with a really cool inscription. I sent the girl a gift too because I had to, a doll or something similar that I looted; I hoped it would make her more proper girly and less of a tomboy.

We were winning the siege and about to conquer the city but then unfortunately my beloved son was killed by an enemy soldier. I was overcome by grief and immediately ordered the army to withdraw. I then left it in the middle of combat and personally left. I know it sounds bad but you have to understand that my son dying was the worst thing ever to happen to anyone and totally justifies it. I went on a bit of a walkabout around and realized this whole "world conquest," "conquering," and "ruling the world" thing just wasn't for me anymore. I really just felt like retiring but of course I was the crown prince so I really couldn't.

Fortunately, when I got back home, I found that my brother had murdered my father and sister in law and stolen the throne. I know it sounds bad but boys will be boys and I didn't want it anymore so I didn't really care. My brother was even really chill about me being back home again and invited me to all his war meetings. I think he was showing off his power or something; it was really adorable. Anyways I kind of felt the whole war thing wasn't very morally good at this point but I still did my best to give valuable advice at the war meetings.

So everything was working out surprisingly well but there was one massive problem. The girl was just completely taking the limelight away from my nephew. She was really smart and good at fighting and fiercely competitive and everything, everything a girl shouldn't be. She played with fire, not dolls. I expected her father to smack her down and put her in her place, but instead he lavished attention on her and neglected his son instead. He began disparaging my nephew and comparing him negatively to the girl, which was very wrong since she was someone who should be focused on having babies and getting married while my nephew was the first born son and the crown prince and deserved accolades for that alone. But to be clear, this was all the girl's fault, not my brother's fault. He never was the best at controlling himself and retaining a clear mind and she took advantage of that by trying to impress her father rather than quieting her competitive spirit and letting her brother maintain his proper place. Plus she criticized my decision to abandon the whole siege thing, which is not how you're supposed to treat a respected elder.

Anyways, all of this made me feel wrong. I really wanted to discipline the girl but she had her father bewitched and there is zero chance he'd allow that, but I figured I could at least give my nephew some positive attention for a change. I got to know him better and he reminded me both of my brother when he was younger and my own son, and I realized I had kind of found two second chances (or maybe even three) in one with him, so I really made a real effort to support him. My nephew could be mean and disrespectful and violent and impulsive, but I always knew he had pure heart behind it all.

Anyways, things were going OK for a while but then they suddenly got much worse. My brother had unjustly banned my 13 year old nephew from a war meeting(probably the girl's fault somehow), so I let him in. Then my nephew, with his big, pure heart, verbally attacked a general for a callous plan, so my brother challenged my nephew to a duel and burned him when he didn't fight back. I just kind of watched (but I'm pretty sure my niece was smirking about the whole thing).

Anyways, I felt kind of guilty about the whole thing, so when my brother banished my nephew to look for the Avatar(a demigod who hadn't been seen for 100 years), I went with my nephew even though what I really wanted to do was stay retired and drink tea all day. This search went on for three whole years as my nephew threw tantrums and randomly attacked people in his search, but boys will be boys and I knew he had a pure heart. I tried to encourage good qualities in him by giving him proverbs but I'm not sure if he got any (but I like my proverbs too much to stop using them). I tried to teach him better firebending but he never really had the patience for it. I guess I tried to get my nephew to stop and smell the roses but that was never going to work.

Eventually the actual Avatar(12 M) showed up (I wasn't expecting that!). The chase went on for another few months. I helped my nephew when I could and encouraged him to keep up the chase, but ultimately we ended at the Northern Water Tribe, where I helped a crazy Admiral named Zhao (45 M) as he tried to conquer the NWT but it was all only to cover for my nephew trying to catch the Avatar. Zhao gave off a lot of self-destructive conquest vibes(I should know-conquest was me at some point) but I still helped him. Anyways, Zhao tried to destroy the moon, I had to try to stop him, it kind of worked, and my nephew and I were forced to flee south on a raft.

We spent some time in a resort, but then the crazy girl showed up and claimed my brother wanted us back. I knew that was sus as hell, it turned out my brother wanted to imprison us (but I'm sure the girl was putting him up to it but unfortunately he never changes his mind once he's made it) for our actions at the NWT, the girl tried to capture myself and my nephew but failed at it, my nephew tried to put the girl in her place, which was a good idea, but he wasn't strong enough, which made it a bad idea, I ended up kicking the girl off a ship, and we escaped. I was sure she was right behind us, so we decided to hide as refugees in the Earth Kingdom.

We spent some time fleeing and hiding in that, I had a brief falling out with my nephew since he was a bit too handsy with other people's things, we reconciled, we hooked up with a couple of members of an old secret fraternal organization of mine, and we headed to Ba Sing Se to hide as refugees. Along the way, my beloved nephew tried to put his crazy sister in her place a couple times, but he wasn't strong enough and it was a bit of bad idea, so I tried to teach him better firebending so he'd have better luck next time. I'll be honest, his attitude was a bit frustrating. I almost forgot to mention this but also at a certain point Zuko and I teamed up with the Avatar to try to put Azula in her place and we trapped her but she got away and I got burned for my trouble. And apparently Zuko and the Avatar couldn't play nice with each other since by the time I woke up they were separated. What can I say?

To get back on track, we headed to Ba Sing Se as refugees, hooked up with another refugee boy who stole food from the captain of our ferry for us. It was surprisingly fun to visit as a tourist the city I had spent so many years trying to conquer and reduce to ashes. I know this sounds bad, but trust me it's not. After being exposed to the abomination which was the local tea, Zuko and I got jobs as tea shop attendants making superior Fire Nation tea, although Zuko didn't like it much even though I told him to accept this was now his destiny. The other refugee boy accused us of being Firebenders but fortunately got taken away by the secret police and we ended up becoming owners of a tea shop, the Jasmine Dragon. It felt like a perfect way to fulfil our destinies and spend my retirement, but Zuko still wanted to capture the Avatar. It was a pain in the ass but boys will be boys, I suppose. I had to rescue him from a secret police compound to prevent him from doing anything really stupid. After that, Zuko finally started to accept his destiny and be happy!

Just when everything was going perfectly, the girl showed and ruined everything. She captured Zuko as part of her coup to seize control of the Earth Kingdom, and I had to team up with the Avatar to try to get him back. It was at that moment I knew Zuko's true destiny was to join up with the Avatar and restore balance to the world! It made perfect sense for once. Zuko was the only one pure enough and true hearted enough and with the right blood to do this; I certainly never could. I just needed to ask Zuko to look into his heart and he'd do it! But again that bitch ruined everything. She manipulated Zuko, that poor boy who didn't know better, into siding with her and her father and betraying me. Into fighting against the Avatar and helping her conquer Ba Sing Se, conquer my city to conquer. She almost killed the Avatar and I had to sacrifice myself to allow him and his little girlfriend to escape. Sometimes your kids will get killed.

I was captured but not powerless now. As I began plot my escape, I also thought about how to influence Zuko into becoming the perfect pure prince I knew he could be, into becoming the friend of the Avatar I knew was his true destiny, into breaking him out of the influence of his evil sister and his father who never quite treated him right. It was easier then I thought. A couple fake cold shoulders (although that hurt a bit for me) and some careful revelations about how he had good blood through his grandfather the Avatar and Zuko was back on the right track, on the track of being the perfect Firelord I could never be. I knew he would stop the Fire Nation, overthrow his father, end the war, and redeem our country, all without needing my help! You might think I should have tried to help him more, but trust me, it works out in the end.

With Zuko's destiny taken care of, it was time to focus on my own. I don't like to toot my own horn, but I also knew I was special and destined for something incredible and I just needed to figure it out. My boyhood dream gave me the right inspiration. All along it was to conquer Ba Sing Se, but for the Earth Kingdom and not the Fire Nation. Everything just clicked into placed. Finally all those deaths I had caused had meaning.

I escaped, and set about fulfilling my fate. I wanted to stage the liberation on the Day of Sozin's Comet, since all firebenders would be more powerful that day. The most important day of my life, the day I finally accomplished the destiny I saw all those years ago, deserved to be at the time I was the most powerful. I gathered up all my friends and prepared for my attempt.

However, just before I could make my attempt, my son and his friends showed up and asked for my help. Zuko begged for my forgiveness. I was so happy to see him like that and I of course forgive him and hugged him. My "replacement son" was now as close to my heart as my actually son had been. He asked me to be the next Firelord, but I knew his heart was a million times purer than mine (and I'd be happier running a tea shop in retirement), so I refused. He wanted me to fight his father the Firelord and defeat him, but that was that 12 year old the Avatar's job and not mine, and it would have looked really bad for a brother to fight a brother to seize power, like really really bad, so I refused. Then I told him his destiny to was to fight his sister and put her in her place so that he could finally become Firelord. Of course, even my perfect nephew, as pure and perfect as he is, didn't have a chance against that girl in a fair fight, so I sent along a waterbender(14F) to help finish the issue.

There was also this issue of my brother, poor deluded creature he was, trying to use a giant airship fleet to burn down the whole Earth Kingdom, but I let the three remaining kids handle it so that my buddies and I could focus on the more important mission of conquering Ba Sing Se on the day of destiny. I know this sounds kind of bad when I write it out like that, but trust me, I knew the kids had everything in the bag.

So, with everything arranged right, we could accomplish our fates. We liberated Ba Sing Se with only a bit of collateral damage(it was the greatest feeling of life) , the kids stopped the airship fleet, the Avatar beat my brother and only took his bending and not his life (which I'm glad for, I always loved my little bro) and my wonderful nephew and the waterbender beat the little terror. Apparently she went really insane during the fight; I'm not surprised, she always was a crazy bitch.

Zuko got coronated and I'm sure that he'll be the most perfect Firelord ever that will restore honor and order to the Fire Nation and fix the last 100 years of mistakes. He's the only one with the blood for it, the only one with true honor, after all. Azula that crazy girl was placed in an asylum like she belongs and my poor little brother was locked away true (that's my only real regret, other than not saving Lu Ten. I wish things could have ended better for sweat little Ozai).

I meanwhile didn't attend Zuko's coronation, so I could focus on setting my retirement as a tea shop owner in Ba Sing Se. Finally I could have a life where I could relax, indulge myself, and serve others wonderful Fire Nation tea. It took a surprising amount of bureaucratic wrangling, but I got my tea shop. I was so sure that the people of Ba Sing Se would find it a blessing to be the presence of their savior and liberator!

However, then Zuko's girlfriend got mad at me. Apparently I had "given Zuko an incredibly difficult and dangerous responsibility and then abandoned him." And then my sister in law showed up alive too (I'm still not sure how she survived Ozai killing her) and she got mad me for "abandoning her daughter and turning Zuko against the girl." And now there are people protesting and rioting outside my tea shop all the time because apparently they can't let go of the time I besieged Ba Sing Se for 600 days.

I don't get any of this. Everyone is hating on me for seemingly no reason. So tell me, Reddit, am I the asshole?

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 4/?

Prev | Next

Damian crossed his arms. A part of him wanted to be angry at Danyal. How dare he lie to them? They wanted to ensure he was fine, and here he was, not telling them the whole truth.

Then, the guilt set in.

Damian wouldn’t have to have asked if he had checked up on his brother if he had remembered he had a brother. Why was he so angry? They were strangers to Danyal. Of course, he would keep his secrets close to his chest. He had lied to the League, knowing that it could result in his death. Lying to the famous ‘no killing allowed’ Batman must’ve been easier.

Danyal sat in midair, his legs crossed.

It was difficult to see Danyal as, was he a ghost? Was his brother dead?

“How did you gain powers,” Richard asked, “Neither Talia nor Bruce have the metagene.”

Danyal shrugged but didn’t answer.

“Listen, I appreciate that you guys care enough to come and visit me, even if it is years later,” he mumbled the last part. It still made the family flinch, “But I don’t owe you guys anything. I don’t have to explain the ifs, whys, and buts. Just because you guys feel guilty, you can’t just uproot my whole life and claim to care and want to take me away from the only loving family I have ever known.”

“I’m not in any danger here—”

“You’re a child hero without adult supervision,” Bruce said.

“—And I have everything under control.”

“You shouldn’t have to have everything under control, Danny. I understand the need to help, but you’re young. You deserve to have some help.”

“What makes you think I don’t have help?”

“Really, do your parents know you’re Phantom?”

Danyal said nothing.

“We want to help, Danyal,” Damian said.

A look of anger marred Danyal’s face.

“Help? Like when you said you would help me train, shoved a sword through my shoulder, and then pushed me from a tower?”

Damian flinched and ignored Tim’s judgmental look.

“That was wrong of me. I apologize for everything I’ve done to you.”

Danny was about to say something before stopping. He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure this wasn’t a trap and didn’t want to give Damian a reason to take him back. So far, it looked like the League was no longer involved, but Batman and his…children were an unknown factor. If he could convince them to leave…

“Daniel James Fenton, you are in big trouble, young man!”

Uh-oh. Irate older sister alert.

Every member of the Batfamily was surprised that an angry teenage red-haired girl had snuck up on them.

She was carrying a green and white baseball bat, and her eyes seemed to glow.

Duke noticed she had a weird aura around her, too. It wasn’t as strong as Danny’s, but still there.

“Who are you people? Why is a group of mostly adults meeting my younger brother in the middle of the night in a desolate park?”

The girl looked at everyone at them and gave a double take when she spotted Damian. She turned to Danny.

“Why are they here,” she asked loudly.

“Jazz, this is Bruce and Damian Wayne. They are my biological father and twin brother. Oh, and everyone else is Bruce’s adopted kids, I guess.”

Wow, he had Damian’s introduction skills.

She turned around and crossed her arms. The bat was still in her hands.

“I’ll ask again: why are you here?”

“I just found out about Danny and wanted to meet him?”

Jazz walked up to Bruce and, without hesitation, poked Bruce’s chest with the baseball bat.

“Oh, and you couldn’t have waited until morning and talked to our parents first? You just had to lure my baby brother away from the safety of his home and basically ambush him?”

“Jazz,” Danny whined, embarrassed.

“I’m just saying it how I see it, little brother.”

“There were some outside circumstances that would’ve made meeting,” Jazz interrupted Bruce by banging the end of the baseball bat on the floor. It left a crater.

“I don’t care about you’re ‘outside circumstances.’ Most of you are adults, and you have a minor with you at night without his legal guardian’s knowledge. If you want to talk to Danny, meet our parents first and set up a meeting like a normal person.”

“Jazz, you don’t understand who they are—”

“I don’t care if they’re the president. Rules exist for a reason. Now come, Danny, we’re going home. Tucker and Sam are worried.”

Danny detransformed and followed Jazz. The last thing he heard was the butler say, “I like her.”

He sighed. It was going to be a long ride back home.

____

Tim had yet to learn what happened.

One minute, he was introduced to the Demon Brat’s twin brother (who seemed more mellow than Damian). The next, they had been attacked by some creature that Danny beat in under ten seconds.

He knew Danny had been lying when he opened his mouth, and Cass had confirmed it. He hadn’t had time to interrogate the kid, though, before an angry red-hair, who reminded him a bit of Barbara, showed up and chewed Bruce out while holding nothing more than a baseball bat.

“Well, that was…interesting,” Duke said.

“I like her,” Jason said, “She stood up to Bruce.”

Bruce glared at Jason. It wasn’t often he got chewed out, and it had never been from a teenage girl. He didn’t like it.

“So, next course of action,” Tim asked.

“Tt, obviously we get Danyal out of this…situation. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, baby bat.”

“Why not?”

“Danny seems to be attached to his adoptive family. He’s suffered a lot in the League. Don’t you think we should consider his feelings?”

The brat thought about it before deflating a little but said nothing.

“So, I repeat: what now?”

Bruce said nothing, not sure what to do.

Suddenly, the smell of earl grey tea was heavy in the air, and he felt the phantom hand of his late surrogate father.

He took a deep breath and said, “It’s time to meet the Fenton.”

[sorchathered]

Don’t take the girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x reader

Summary- the after effects of Perry and Royal killing the Tillerson boys brings more trouble and heartache into Rhett’s life, can he keep what he holds most dear or will he lose it all?

Warnings- language, violence, mentions of death, smut.

A/N- I meant to put this out months ago but never did, hopefully y’all like it! It’s a rewrite of one of my first fics and I still don’t know if I like it but I’m putting it out into the tumblr-verse anyway lol.

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“I called my firm in Cheyenne, and they said they could get my position back for me by the end of next week, I-I think it’s the best option right now.”

Rhett reels back from you like he’s been slapped, furiously shaking his head eyes full of venom.

“Don’t you get tired of it? Constantly running from your problems?”

You give him an incredulous look, clearly he’s not going to let this go quietly like you’d (foolishly) hoped.

“I’m not running! It’s self preservation Rhett! For both of us! We can’t just dilute ourselves into thinking we could weld ourselves back together, we’re completely different people now and I love you- God I love you more than anything and always will-“

“Don’t, you don’t get to use that on me when clearly you and I have different ideas of what love is.” He looks absolutely disgusted now, you can barely stand to look at him, it brings tears to your eyes to even think you’re hurting him again.

“That’s not fair and you know it-“

“Not fair?! You wanna know how many girls I’ve slept with since you?”

“Don’t” you reply weakly

“At least a hundred, maybe more I don’t even see their faces anymore Y/N. I haven’t had a single relationship that lasted more than a month since you left, I can’t even try to make it work. I got with Maria trying to feel something, anything but I couldn’t get serious, she knew I’d never be over you and I hate that she was right. Because when I’m fucking some buckle bunny or one night stand you’re the only face I see. You came home and it was like a sign, I could get my second chance and get my shit together, be the man you deserved. But there’s something broken in you, you can’t just let me love you.” He looks into your teary eyes and shakes his head, “I refuse to be the reason we fell apart. You turn your back on me now and that’s it darlin’ don’t ever think I’ll let you in again.”

He turns on his heel and slams your front door, rattling the windows with the force of it. You want more than anything to run after him, beg him to listen but you know he’s right. You are scared; Perry and Amy were missing, Trevor and Billy were dead and Rhett had barely made it out unscathed. The Tillerson’s were still circling like vultures, Perry had admitted to murdering Trevor before he disappeared but they wanted retribution and they’d take a pound of Abbott flesh to settle the score. Dropping to your knees in your family’s home you sobbed, you knew you’d fucked up again but you didn’t know any other way but to save yourself when things got tough.

You and Rhett had fallen in love overnight it seemed, your mother’s had been attached at the hip all your lives and to say the two of you tolerated each other was an overstatement. Junior prom seemed to change everything, he asked Maria and she turned him down cold, and your boyfriend dumped you the week before so of course your parents suggested you go together. Rhett couldn’t think of anything more painful in his life, but he knew better than to question Cece so off he trudged in his suit jacket, wranglers and best pair of boots to pick you up. When you crossed the threshold it was like he’d never seen you before in his life, you’d always been one of the boys to him but in your baby blue dress and hair all curled he swore you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. You had been inseparable from that night on, always holding hands and stealing kisses; Perry attempting to take the piss out of you at every opportunity but it never phased you.

When you’d been accepted to college in another state Rhett felt like his whole world collapsed. You both promised you’d make it work and stay together but the distance became too much and before you knew it 6 years had passed between you. You’d seen each other in passing over holidays but he was jaded from the heartbreak and you knew better than to push him. Your mother had passed at the beginning of the year and you made the trek back to Wabang to settle her affairs, but ended up getting a job with the local law firm and before you knew it months had passed and you’d fully integrated yourself back into the community.

Stepping into the pit bar that summer night had changed everything, he’d been drinking with his buddies and you had let an old high school girlfriend convince you that drinks and line dancing were the cure for your melancholy. Some guy got a little too handsy, Rhett came out of nowhere and knocked him on his ass and just like that the two of you were making out like teenagers in the front of his old pickup. You’d picked right back up where you left off, and then everything went to shit that fateful fall night when Perry took Trevor’s life.

Rhett was seething as he drove back to the ranch, he felt like his skin was on fire and couldn’t stop the tears from spilling as he violently shook. How was he supposed to go without you again? He’d been patched up with tape and glue for years, just trying to make a name for himself in the pbr circuit and drowning his sorrows in beer and pussy. He’d become a shell of who he was without you, a version of himself he hated. You’d come back into his life and for once he had hope for a future outside of just surviving. He knew you were scared but damnit so was he! His family was unraveling at the seams and he couldn’t do anything to stop the onslaught of troubles that ravaged everything he held dear. He slammed the truck to a stop, tears blinding his eyes as he began to hyperventilate, sobs wracking his body and he let it all wash over him. Didn’t know how long he’d sat there until he was startled by his phone ringing, pulling himself together to see who the hell needed him this late at night.

“Rhett! Rhett please- I need you to listen-“

You sobbed into the phone, something was wrong; you hadn’t been the number on the screen when he answered, and he heard a thud and a scream from you on the line as someone else took over the call.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a dilemma Abbott, both my brothers are dead and there’s no one to pay the price for the sins your family committed. So it looks like your sweetheart will have to do.” Luke Tillerson laughs darkly as he drags you out to his truck by your hair, Rhett can hear your sobs through the phone and he nearly blacks out from the anger coursing through him.

“Luke if you hurt her-“

“Aht Aht let’s not make empty threats Rhett, you know I hold all the cards right now. You want to see her alive? Trade yourself for her, you’ve got twenty minutes.” The line goes dead and the phone lights up again with a text. With shaking hands Rhett opens the message, blood splattered across your beautiful face as you lay slumped in the bed of Luke’s truck. Coordinates for a location and a countdown pop up next, and Rhett has to wrench the door of the cab open to throw up. He unlocks his phone again and dials Sheriff Joy, he doesn’t know how to fix this but he’ll give himself up, let Luke torture him until his last breath if it means keeping you safe.

Against the sheriff and his father’s wishes Rhett is speeding down the highway, gps taking him towards the location Luke sent him. His shotgun that normally lay under the bench seat of his truck was in his lap now, knowing he would do what was needed if it meant keeping you alive; even if that meant Wayne Tillerson would bury all three sons in the span of a month.

Joy had begged him to wait for them to get there first, but he knew at the first sign of police presence Luke would do something drastic and he couldn’t take that risk. He shut off his headlights as he turned into the drive near the tiny shack the directions had led him to, putting the truck in park a couple hundred feet away. He still had a good ten minutes to spare maybe if he could get the upper hand he could subdue Luke and get you both out of this unscathed.

Creeping up towards the old building he could see a light and hear voices, as he peered into the window he found Luke pacing the floor with you tied to a chair. Bruises were blooming across your cheekbone and your nose was bloody, tears pouring from your eyes as you begged him to let you go. You catch movement in the window, his eyes meeting yours in that moment you know you need to create a diversion if you want to keep the both of you alive.

“Luke you don’t have to do this, you know Rhett isn’t responsible for what happened! You can still walk away from this, I won’t press charges and we can let this go.”

He cocks his head to the side, appraising you, something dark behind his eyes that causes a shiver to run down your spine. He shoves himself off the rickety table he was perched on, kneels down in front of you and places his hands on either side of your duct taped calves.

“Oh y/n you sweet little thing. I’m not blind you know, I’ve noticed you over the years; you grew up to be quite the woman. Accomplished lawyer, definitely more than just a pretty face and it kind of makes me wonder why the hell you’ve been wasting your time on Rhett. He’s small time darlin’, never gonna be anything more than a glorified ranch hand, constantly chasing after his daddy’s approval. Tsk tsk if your parents could see you now, all the time and money they wasted to get you out of this piece of shit town and here you are repeating your mistakes all over again.”

He’s taunting you, just looking for a fight; any excuse to take out some of the aggression that has sat under the surface as his whole world fell apart. You could give him what he wanted, go head to head and maybe keep him distracted while the clock runs out, but really you would just be prolonging the inevitable. He wanted someone to pay for what had been done to him, and you knew he’d get it. So you looked at him with the sweetest smile you could muster and spit directly into his face. While he was distracted you pushed your chair forward to land on top of him, hoping to disarm him as the gun slides across the floor. He lets out a shriek, hauling you back up by the hair just as Rhett quietly steps through the door behind him. Luke raises his open palm to strike you and as he does Rhett slams the butt of his shotgun against the back of Luke’s head, rendering him unconscious. He steps over his body as he rushes for you, your body shaking as he looks you over, making sure all your injuries are superficial.

“Baby girl look at me, you’re ok y/n. Don’t panic, this isn’t over yet.” He leans down to kiss you and you nod frantically, you know he needs to subdue Luke before he comes to and tries to attack again. Tucking the pistol Luke was carrying into his waistband he hauls his unconscious body off the floor and begins taping his arms and legs together. Flashing lights and sirens fill the quiet and you let out a sob, everything is going to be ok, you two are finally safe.

After nearly an hour of questioning and prodding from the paramedics you are finally free to go, gently placed in Rhett’s truck and tucked inside his arm as he drives you back home. Luke had been arrested, no bail was set and a protective order would be put in place to keep the two of you safe from what was left of the Tillerson family.

You’d let Rhett carry you inside and up the stairs to your room with no complaint, normally you’d fuss at him for babying you but after the events of the night you needed him close.

As he began to remove your shoes you were overcome with emotion, tangling your right hand in his hair and letting out a sob. He startled at the outburst, surging forward to pull you back into his arms, cradling you in his lap and he tried to calm your tears.

“It’s alright sug, just let it out baby I’m right here I got ya.” He was pressing kisses to the side of your head and you didn’t know what was coming over you as you quickly grasped his face and slotted your lips against his. You needed him to be closer, shivering in his arms as you began to yank at his clothes, trying to curl yourself in on him. He tried to pull back to make sure you were really up for what you were asking but you wouldn’t let him, rubbing your clothed core along his ridiculous gaudy belt buckle and sucking his tongue. Giving in to you was as easy as breathing, if he was honest he needed this as much as you the fear of losing you had shaken him to his foundation, if he could convince you to stay he’d make sure you got everything you dreamed of.

Finally stripped bare you lowered yourself onto him, tears still silently spilling from your eyes as you kissed him, the thought that you’d almost given this up mere hours ago was unimaginable. He let you take the lead, grinding down on him and letting his pubic bone catch your clit with each thrust, head thrown back in pleasure as he sucked marks all over your chest. It was pure need thrumming through you both as you cried out and reached your orgasm, whispered I love yous against each others skin while he let you ride it out. Flipping you on to your back he began to chase his own release, wrapping his rough hand around your throat and pulling you into a passionate kiss, he groaned deep into your mouth and came inside you, the heat flooding your abdomen bringing another climax of your own as you both collapsed to the floor a tangle of sweaty limbs.

You must’ve fallen asleep like that because you woke to the sun peering through your window still tangled up in Rhett’s warm embrace on the bedroom rug. You nuzzled into his neck and pressed kisses to his jaw as you felt him stir beside you.

“Wake up sleepy head, need to get us both cleaned up and fed” you cooed at him and he grinned underneath his arm, laugh rumbling through his chest and against yours at the realization that you two hadn’t even made it to bed. He let you haul him up and drag him to the shower, what should have been an innocent soaping up of bodies became a heated affair with you pressed against the shower wall as he fucked you hard until you both were spent and starving.

He knew you still had a lot to talk about, what had happened before your abduction still wasn’t resolved but he didn’t press it, content to just spend the day wrapped up in you. Cece had called you both over a dozen times, full of worry after Royal had come home to tell her what happened. You rang her after breakfast and promised everyone was ok, agreeing to come have dinner later in the week after you’d rested. You knew you’d have to field questions from most everyone in town in the aftermath but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to any texts or messages on social media; just the thought made you nauseous all over again, memory of the feeling of Luke’s hands brutalizing you making you drop the mug in your hands shattering on the ground and making you jump.

Rhett was there in an instant to help you clean it up, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself and tossing the remnants in the trash. You looked up at him letting out another sob, since when had you become such an emotional wreck?! You couldn’t seem to keep it together as you began to apologize over and over, Rhett scooping you up into his arms and placing you on the counter to hug you close.

“Hey, hey none of that ok? You didn’t do anything wrong, you knew this shit would happen and tried to make a clean break; goddamnit I should have let you then I could have kept you safe from all of this.” He felt wretched, he’d blown you off when you said the Tillerson’s would look for revenge and then been forced to watch as you were nearly taken from him as a result of his family’s sins. You shook your head violently now, trying to force the words out because if he blamed himself for one more minute you may explode.

“I shouldn’t have tried to leave Rhett! If I hadn’t run you off last night Luke would have never been able to take me, and we wouldn’t have gone through all this!” You wailed and stuttered as you tried to continue, needing him to understand what had been consuming your thoughts all day. “I don’t ever want to be without you again, I was so scared he’d hurt you or me and we’d never get a future together. You deserve everything baby, I promise I won’t ever leave again just please don’t blame yourself for this anymore.” He couldn’t stop the tears now, didn’t know where yours began and his ended but he pressed himself to you and poured all the love he had into kissing you.

————————————————————————

*1 year later*

Rhett was exhausted. He’d finished up last years circuit in first place, made the finals and won those as well, catching the eye of scouts who signed him immediately for a professional team. Since then he’d been touring and riding in competitions, in and out of hotels but always on the run to get back to you. The season was finally over and he was bone tired, but he drove all night to make it home to your little homestead in Cheyenne in the wee hours of the morning. Moving out of Wabang had been a breath of fresh air, the two of you were thriving in your careers and had bought a small farm on the outskirts of the capital city, a new start just what you both had needed. He trudged up the steps now, quietly trying to enter your house not wanting to wake you so early. But as he entered the living space he saw the bedroom light on and heard soft cries flowing down the hall. There in the warm glow of your shared bedroom was his beautiful wife and 1 month old baby girl, you were singing softly to her as you rocked her in your chair, attempting to soothe the little one back to sleep. His heart swelled at the view, drinking both of you in as he leaned in the doorway, completely enamored.

You looked up at him, sensing his presence from his gaze and cooed down at the baby in your arms. “Look what we have here my sweet little angel, daddy is finally home.”

He crossed the room to gather you both in his embrace, he’d gotten everything he ever wanted.

————————————————————————

Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia

[descendantsramblings]

Sooooo how about Male! Reader x Morgie when they are already Dating but its Reader meeting Morgies mom (morgie is goddamn nervous cause reader isnt a villain)

This one is just a Drabble but I think this is a really cute concept. I just wasn't sure how to flesh it out farther as I'm not familiar with Morgana le Fay (Morgan le Fay? I'm unsure)

Doesn’t Matter

Morgie le Fay x Prince! Reader

Pronouns used: he/him/his

Summary: family day might just be the death of him, or his relationship. Whichever came first

Warnings: Morgana sucks man, pet names (you know me, you kno they're gonna be there), sorta a fluff situation, sorta a comfort situation. Idk words came out of my brain and into the google doc

Word count: 1.1K

    Morgie is pacing the room, his hands flying wildly as he rambles. Or perhaps he’s ranting, the prince perched on his bed doesn’t speak a lick of ancient Cornish like his boyfriend does. He couldn't tell you what was going on if he tried. Of course, his tone isn’t much help either, the sound of his voice pitching and falling in the same way it does when he’s scared or he’s fuming. So, (Y/n) is stuck trying to read his ever moving face as he waits to find out what could possibly be bothering him. The villain flings his arms up as he falls on the bed beside the greatest good he’s ever had, letting himself go all the way to his back. Eyes screwing closed with his lips in this aggravated pout that makes (Y/n) bite his lip. He looks so pretty when he’s upset, at least while it wasn’t pointed at him. “Sugar,” he smiles, reaching over to card his fingers through the boy’s ruffled hair. A soothing touch that his scalp craves after the way he was yanking on it in aggression. He lets out a hum, the sound coming out somewhere between the comfort from his boyfriend’s hand and his previous stress. “You know, if you want me to have any clue what’s got your feathers all ruffled, then maybe you should try again in English.” 

   His eyes fly open, turning to meet his boyfriend’s adoring gaze with a soft, apologetic look on his face. “I wasn’t speaking English?” It’s met with a little shake of his head, smiling at the boy, “Not at all. That was fully Cornish, you do that when you’re upset.” He slowly blinks a few times, shaking his head as he sits up, “And you just let me?” The prince on his side giggles, shaking his head in return, “I find it impossibly cute when you’re rambling in your mother tongue. I know you’ll explain it to me once you get it all out.”  Morgie smiles, he can’t help himself but to lean into his boyfriend’s slightly parted lips. A chaste kiss that lets the world around him melt away for the few seconds that they’re touching. “You know, Morgz, if I knew that would have earned me a kiss I would have told you ages ago.” And he’s laughing now, this airy playful thing that can only come from the lips of Morgie le Fay. It might just be the sweetest sound that (Y/n) has heard in his entire life. 

   “So,” he kisses Morgie’s forehead before moving away, “What has you all worked up, Buttercup?” Moment of relief over, back to business, le Fay. He takes a deep breath, letting it come back out on a sigh, “My mother.” (Y/n)’s face falls, becoming this twisted, heated, glaring thing that makes him seem more like a villain than a prince. Maybe if he could just look at Morgana like that, she wouldn’t notice how royal Morgie’s perfect boyfriend actually was. “Did she send you another awful letter? Baby why didn’t you come to me sooner? What did that witch of a woman want this time? Your voice? Your soul?” You’d think that (Y/n) and Morgana had met -and fought- a hundred times over by the aggression in the prince’s tone. That woman deserved none of his sympathy, she never dared to spare Morgie a drop of it. From the moment the sorcerer had opened up about his mother, (Y/n) had it in his mind that if they were ever near each other, he’d set the woman straight. Morgie was light, he was the air, he was the sun. Her son meant so much more than she ever gave him credit for; the prince would never let her forget it. As long as he was lucky enough to call Morgie his, he’d make sure someone made him feel like he deserved his spot as the sun. 

   “She’s not a witch, she’s a sorceress.” The prince laughs, reaching out to mindlessly toy with the end of Morgie’s scarf, “Oh, I know. Witch was an insult. I wanted it to be rude.” The tone is empty, this far away annoyed thing that would seem out of place if you didn't know the boy well. Soft pink lips curl up into a smile, looking over his lover with this sweet adoration that could give the sugar plum fairy a toothache. “But what did she do? Why does she have my boy all worked up?” He sighs, falling back to laying on his bed again “She’s coming to family day. She’s coming to family day and she knows about you but she doesn’t know you’re royal. And she will just, god she’s going to be absolutely awful to you.” As he rambles, his boyfriend lays down beside him; his head finding its way onto Morgie’s chest as an arm wraps around his middle. “It doesn’t matter.” 

   “What?” He tilts his head down to look at the boy in his arms, hazel eyes meeting the ones he’d come to love. “It doesn’t matter if she’s awful to me. That woman is my personal nemesis as far as I’m concerned.” “You don’t understand how absolutely awful my mother can be, or how powerful she is. I know I said I’d protect you from anything but my magic cannot rival hers.” (Y/n) shrugs to the best of his ability, looking up at Morgie as if he could care less, “Merlin’s can. He wouldn’t just let a student get hurt like that, especially not a prince. I’ll be there to protect you that day.” Morgie goes to argue, to tell him that he didn’t need protecting. But they would both be able to call his bluff. The prince on his chest had been the one to piece him back together after a few too many letters from his mother for any of that to be true. “You really don’t care what she thinks of you?” 

   Did he? Could the opinion of someone who so obviously was wrong about their own child ever be that important? There was no world where the prince thought someone who hated Morgie would ever have a good opinion. And yet, “Does it matter to you what she thinks of me?” That’s what mattered didn’t it? How Morgie felt about the whole thing? He was the boy who was caught in the crossfire. Of course, he knew without a doubt that he hated Morgana le Fay, every last part of him hated Morgana le Fay. But if Morgie needed her to like him, (Y/n) could be a man and tough it out. Whatever it took to make the sorcerer happy, that’s what his goal in this life was. “I don’t know.” A hand slides up Morgie’s torso to rest on his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Does it change your opinion of me if she doesn’t like me?” He shakes his head, grabbing the hand that rests on his face so he can place a soft kiss on the other boy’s palm. “Well then, it doesn’t matter to me. Let her insult me as much as she pleases, let her curse me if she wants. As long as I don’t lose you, it doesn’t matter.”

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

Not Alone Part 2 (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

joel miller x fem!reader

when you find yourself completely alone, you might just have to look up to realize you aren't.

warnings: mentioned death of family members; injuries; joel being mean (soft); probably typos lol

author: sj

masterlist

part one / part three

another part in the works :)

---

After your painful wonderful shower for the first time in forever, you found new clothes on the bed and went down to the kitchen to try to find something to eat. And as Maria promised, there was some food that looked like it would last you the day sitting on the counter. Your self control was ripped from you and you ended up eating the whole thing sitting on the floor.

Once the last bite of food was gone, it was then realized how utterly alone you were. You tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't seem to get your lungs to be able to work. You let yourself think about your brother for the first time. Luke wasn't supposed to go like that. Your baby brother. The only one you had left. You weren't a spring chicken any more, but you still felt like he was still a kid. You were five years older than him and he was your best friend. Not once, did you ever think he would leave your side. Much less, get bit. It all happened so fast. And all you could think about was having to shoot him with your last two bullets.

The tears streamed down your face and you got up and stumbled through the back door to get outside. The walls were closing in and you needed to get out. Ironic that the past few weeks, all you wanted was real shelter, and now that you had it, you couldn't stand it. You burst out of the back door and quickly stumble down the steps to the grass. The sobs racking your body as you mourn your life long best friend.

You don't know how long you laid there. All you know is that when the sun went down, your cheeks were dry and tight with the dried tears. You couldn't move but as you watched the sunset and the stars start to shine, you felt your lungs start to rise up and down again. You would be okay. You would have to be. You'd have to pull your weight. Even if it meant with a broken arm. It was okay that you were all alone. Others had done it, and if it was Luke, you would've wanted him to go on. He deserved to live a normal life and you would live it for him if you had to.

You sighed and rolled to your side to get up, freezing when you saw the little girl from next door sitting in a chair at the back of her house yards away from you. You mustered a smile, cheeks heating with the thought of her witnessing your grief. You waved and she waved you over. You swallowed your pride and slowly walked towards her and sat in the chair that she pointed to. What you didn't see was the man in the kitchen a few feet from the open back door that was one hundred percent eavesdropping.

"I don't think I've ever seen so many tears from one person." She said quietly, obviously trying to lighten the awkwardness.

"Well. I've been holding it in for a while, guess it was bound to come out at some point." You shrugged with one shoulder.

"What really happened to your arm?"

"Um... My brother broke it. He got infected and... yeah, just got broken in the struggle." You said, voice scratchy from your crying.

"Oh shit. Sorry. Thats... tough." Ellie said, earnestly trying to give you comfort. You nodded, grateful for her comfort, but not wanting to say it was okay, because truthfully, it wasn't.

"Ellie. Come eat." Joel yelled as he stuck his head out the back door. You jumped at the loud voice, his eyes latching onto the jumpy form.

"You can eat with us. Right Joel?" Ellie looked to Joel and she asked again, more forcefully this time. "Right Joel?"

"Yes." He said, softer, tone still hard as a rock.

"He's not as much of an asshole as he sounds. He just genuinely has an assholey voice." You smiled at her side comment to you and looked to Joel.

"If you're sure. I've already ran out of food. I won't each much I promise. Ate plenty for lunch, for the first time in... a long time." You said to him, getting up out of your chair and following Ellie into the kitchen.

Dinner went quietly, mostly filled with the sounds of silverware and Ellie asking you if you knew any puns. You quickly went home after dinner and Joel went to bed thinking about how your sobs sounded as you laid in the grass.

---

The next morning, Joel went to the stables to see if there was anything he could do around the barn. He wasn't scheduled for patrol until the next day, but needed something to do. He didn't like being home alone when Ellie was off at school learning god knows what. He knew he had to stay busy to keep his thoughts from spiraling.

As he walked into the stables and passed some of the stalls, he heard soft grunting. He slowed to a stop and peeked into the open stall the someone seemed to be in. Only to find you shoveling or attempting to shovel horse shit into a wheelbarrow. He watched as you tried to pick up the shovel that was loaded with one arm as you guided to help yourself pick it up with the arm that was not supposed to be in use. You grunted and then huffed out a frustrated sigh when it tipped and you dumped it, missing the wheelbarrow. The wheel barrowthat you wouldn't be able to carry with one arm. He wasn't quite sure why but it made him angry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked sharply. He watched you jump and then sigh a small smile gracing your face as a greeting.

"Shoveling horse poop." You replied with a tired smile, immediately going back to trying to pick up the pile that you dumped.

"No shit sherlock." No pun intended. My god he was becoming Ellie. "I mean, why the hell are you shoveling with a broken arm? You're going to hurt yourself more." He said, walking in the stall and grabbing the shovel from your hands quickly.

"I'm trying to pull my weight. There weren't any shifts left any where and I have to get food some how. I don't know about you, but I'm not a fan of starving." You said, the smile leaving your face, and being replaced by a frown, looking at the shovel in his hands. He sighed and brushed a hand down his face in what seemed like frustration.

"Look. I'll finish up for you and then we can go to the hall and grab you some breakfast, yeah? If Ellie hears that I didn't feed ya, she'll feed me my hands for dinner. And don't worry about this shit until you're better. You're not gonna get better if you don't rest it." He demanded, not looking at your face as he finished shoveling the horse feces in the stall. Your wrist giving a nice dull throb that sent you grabbing your sling from your bag and putting it back on.

You watched as he lifted up the wheelbarrow and drove it past you towards the pile, muttering to himself about how you 'couldn't even fucking lift it if ya tried'.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting in the hall with a meal in front of you, eating like you were starved. Cause you basically were. After this mornings out burst, he hadn't said much to you and had just watched you with his brown eyes studying you, creases deep on his face.

"Don't worry about meals until your wrist heals up. You come to us for it, yeah? Ellie likes you and she doesn't get many older women in her life." You nodded, a smile returning to your face. Joel's chest did that weird cracking and blew out a breath. He didn't think he had any room left in there and he had a bad feeling you were going to squeeze in any how.

[whataboutsimple]

I have a few questions for ya!

First two are mcsm related.

1 - Were there any storylines or characters you think weren’t done justice?

2 - Opinions on a queerplatonic Radar and nonbinary Nell? This is partially just hc exploration and also details for my NaLA!AU :D

3 - Favorite fanfic trope/s?

Questions! Simple llloves questions..

Anyway, let's-a go!

1. Well, I really didn't like the way they just.. dump Ellegaard/Magnus? It's not only about the fact that they completely ignore how those two managed towns, it's also about their death. If only they actually showed us, that they are remember besides like one line from Olivia/Axel, that would be sweet.

Blaze Rods were dumped too, in my opinion, since they literally left them who knows where without a single way back home for god knows how long. Yep, they did shit, but c'mon. That's a bit too hursh, don't you think? Gang spend a long time in the world where everyone miserably hates them for what they did. A bit more justice for Aiden, Maya and Gill please. ESPECIALLY for Gill, he clearly didn't understood a single thing of what was going on.

Cassie's deserves some justice too, cause c'mon. They left her alone in a hole with silver fish without any food or a chance to get out. Death penalty? Well, maybe, but not due to freaking starvation or her commiting a suicide. YouTubers should've took her with them and put in some kind of jail, honestly.

The same for Hadrian and Mevia, doesn't matter what you choose, they will eventually die in unpleasant way. How about putting them in mines? Letting them redeem themselves? Anything that doesn't include painful death, C'MON, that's too harsh!

People whose towns were destroyed should've had justice too. I love Ivor dearly, but he probably killed hundreds of humans with his creation and destroyed thousands of homes/work places/mines ect., but I bet they didn't even get a chance to judge him normally.

Justice for Binta, people fork Fred's keep, Porkchop, his gang and other people from under the bedrock, because letting Romeo die is not good, but just leaving him wander around? Jesse, are you nuts?

WHAT'S UP WITH VILLAINS IN THAT GAME??? They are either dying horribly or wander around as if nothing ever happened.

2. Oh gawd I'm too old for such words.. okay, so I googled what queerplatonic is and I hope I got it right.. actually good HCs! I can see radar being queerplatonic.. since he's such a cookie for me. And nonbinary Nell sounds good! She always seemed like someone who would use they/them for me, but being in fandom I kinda got used to call her.. her? I-.. I'm too old...

3. Ah well- there's- a lot of them actually. And usually if it's my fav ship I literally don't care. Cause it's hard for me to find something that includes my babies. Do you.. if you want to, I can do one of those 'tier lists' of fanfic dynamics?

[valsnonsense]

Floyd: I'm so lucky you came into my life...

Creek: Heh... I'm the one who's lucky..

Floyd: I love you so much, Raindrop...

Creek: I love you too, Sugar Plum

Today I come out as a soft Fleek enjoyer. I love psycho Creek and toxic yaoi fleek as much as the next fella, but soft, healing Fleek is the true owner if my heart.

(Don't worry Creek is still kind of a cunt, I won't take that away from him. Mans an asshole)

Personal headcanons alert!!! (This image falls into my Depths AU, hence Creek's lack of an arm)

TW: Mentions of drug abuse and alcoholism/self destructive actions

Creek sold out his entire people to save his own skin. Why did he do it? There's really only one reason. Guy was scared. Terrified. He was staring death in the face. In the literal jaws of a creature that would devour him without second thought. And fear makes us do stupid things. Things we regret. Things we can NEVER take back.

Creek is genuinely remorseful about his actions. When he winds up alone, fighting for his life every day, he feels he deserves it. He deserves to be alone. To die alone. He may have saved his own life in that moment. But he doomed himself to a life of solitude.

Until Floyd came into his life.

Now Floyd has made his own handful of mistakes. I personally love the headcanon that Floyd feel into some BAD habits during his solo career. I'm talking party drugs, drinking, ext. Mans a party animal, or at least he was. Until it got his ass hundreds in debt, mooching off any who'd take pity on him, then eventually captured.

I like to think that all the brothers did at one point try and go back home, only to find Branch gone and the tree in ruin. Like JD, Floyd though Branch was dead. He thought all of them were dead. So what did he do? He drowned himself in music, drugs, and alcohol. He failed his baby brother. The one promise he made, he failed to fufill. He destroyed himself every day after that. It was a punishment in a way.

Creek and Floyd are both broken, lost souls, riddled with guilt over past actions and failed promises. They understand one another on a level no one else can.

Floyd helps Creek reconnect with others and works to him redeeming himself in the eyes of the Trolls. And in return, Creek helps Floyd manage his PTSD, anxieties, and chronic pain

Now since the whole "spiritual/namaste" thing is actually INCREDIBLY insensitive to various east Asian cultures, I headcanon that Creek was the village physical therapist, chiropractor, physiotherapist, acupuncturist, basically a doctor who helped Trolls manage chronic pain, injuries, ext.

He did teach yoga classes, but mainly as a hobby, and to help Trolls practice body positivity.

These two lead a quiet life following all that happened to them. Guys are tired af and need a nap

I love these two as a sweeter couple. Floyd thinks Creek is stupid af but he loves him for it.

Okay imma shut up now this got LONG-

[cressthebest]

Art Heist, Baby! thoughts pt. 14

we’re nearing the end yall and i’m getting HELLA nervous. five chapters left. and reg is gonna die. i’m not ready

chapter 34:

1. the mulciber swap went perfect. still nervous though

2. the heist is almost over. and they’re all splitting up to go places. i don’t think i can handle this

3. god, it’s the lucius swap. i don’t think it’s gonna go well. i’m so worried

4. “Regulus cleared his throat. “I just want to say that it had been a privilege and an honour to conduct this heist with all of you. Each of you are brilliant individuals and I couldn’t have asked for a better team.”” sobbing so badly rn. horrifically sobbing. oh my god. the death must be this chapter. it feels all like a final goodbye, and it probably is for reg

5. reg wants to fix his relationship with sirius over a hundred cups of coffee. that sounds so nice

6. reg is looking forward to attending sirius and remus’ wedding! and he’s surprised that sirius wants him there. this. this all feels so foreboding

7. god. they’re face to face with tom riddle. this isn’t gonna end well. i can feel it

8. it was a set up. all reg gets to say is “james run” and then there’s bullets. i almost don’t want to read the rest of the chapter. i don’t even think i’m gonna cry. just quiet resignation. i will be fine. i fucking called it last post tho, saying it would be tom riddles fault.

9. oh gosh. reg is dying right there on the floor, blood pooling in his lungs and he’s telling james not to be scared

10. i was a fool. of course i’m sobbing. i sent my freind a two minute long voice recording while sobbing about how sad i was over the death. they can confirm, though i’m not asking them to

11. reg gives james his ring. oh fuck

12. dying by tom riddles’ hands. drowning in his own blood. of course he dies by drowning

13. on another note, i’m sure that james’ gun kink is very much gone

14. “It wasn’t the amount of blood that had accumulated all over the floor that convinced James that Regulus was dead.

Or the fact that Regulus had stopped the gurgling and wheezing noises several minutes ago as he drifted into cruel stillness.

It wasn’t Barty’s tear stained and blood splattered face. Or Evan’s desperate attempts to shake Regulus awake. It wasn’t even Peter’s sorrowful look upon checking for a pulse. Or his frantic attempts to do CPR anyway.

It was Sirius’ agonised wails as he pleaded and called out to a God he never believed in to spare his brother. To bring him back. “I just got him back,” Sirius screamed. “I just got him back. Please. Don’t do this. Please bring him back. I just got him back.””

this fucking fic i swear to god

15. everyone else is dead, thanks to evan and barty. for once, i agree with their unhinged. it was a slaughter of men on the other side, and i am glad. they are dead, and they don’t even deserve it. they deserve a life of torture for what they did. thank fucking god they’re dead tho. it makes me rest easy

they were supposed to get a house with green or red shutters and get married and travel the world and make tea and orange muffins and snog in art museums and visit their freinds and be happy and in love and never live a mundane life cause they’re rich and together. but NO. it has to all get ruined

im not okay, thank you for asking. i will never be okay, thank you for asking. i never want to be okay again, stop asking.

[saintsenara]

For chose violence 12 13 14 :))

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

[choose violence ask game here]

12. who is an unpopular character you actually like, and why should more people like them?

i've answered this previously for petunia dursley, and i stand by that. but i also have another overlooked woman i adore:

merope gaunt.

merope’s son is, in my opinion, the most interesting character in the series, and his relationship with his dead mother’s memory is one of the most fascinating things about him (and also an aspect of his characterisation which canon dwells on only lightly - dumbledore’s view that voldemort ‘despises’ merope is never interrogated, despite the fact that harry clearly clocks the ways in which his grief about his motherlessness drives his decisions).

but i also think that merope is a fascinating character in her own right, not least for what she reveals to us about the complex threads which bind being a victim and being a perpetrator together, what she shows about how there are no perfect victims, and what she shows about how there are no irredeemable perpetrators.

because merope is a rapist. there is no need to handwave that away. [even though canon does - love potions are treated as somewhat benign in the text, the canonical tom riddle sr. gets no sympathy whatsoever within the narrative, and he is blamed by both harry and dumbledore, even if this happens in ways which make sense for their characters, for ‘abandoning’ his son.]

but she is also someone who must meaningfully lack the capacity to understand what she does as rape. the implication of canon is that she is subjected to incestuous sexual violence at her father and/or brother’s hands (morfin’s jealousy over tom sr., and the fact that he tells tom jr. that merope ‘dishonoured’ him by having a sexual relationship with another man, heavily suggests this), which the narrative once again considers vaguely amusing (the joke about the gaunts marrying their close blood relatives). she is certainly subjected to physical violence by them. she is treated as little more than an object to display her father’s locket. this is a girl (she’s nineteen when she dies) who cannot have any idea what things like consent and bodily autonomy are, and who shows through this how this lack of safety and education in one person’s life can go on to beget horror in another’s.

and, alongside this, she also provides a particularly good insight into something which is often absent from the canon narrative - the failure of the wizarding state. it is extraordinary that, when morfin and marvolo are arrested, she is just left on her own. or that the state has made no prior effort to remove her from the home of two men with reputations for violence, or to make sure that she has an education, or to notice that she lives in grinding poverty. or that she is forced to sell her father’s locket for a pittance because the wizarding state makes no effort to help heavily pregnant women who have nowhere else to go.

this - the fact that evil is often banal proceduralism, and that the greatest harm is caused by state apparatus - is something which is largely absent from the canon narrative, which tends to locate good or evil within the individual. so too is the reality of gendered violence, or how poverty affects women specifically, or how the institutions praised in the series - hogwarts chief among them - maintain a social structure which is hugely oppressive. these things go on to affect voldemort too, but they originate with merope.

[she also deserves defending on one specific charge, which sincerely makes my blood boil: the idea that she could have avoided dying in childbirth if she’d been braver. throughout the course of human history hundreds of thousands of women, who would have loved to have stayed alive for their babies, have bled to death in childbirth, because it is dangerous. they did not fail. they were unlucky.]

13. who gets the worst blorbofication?

remus lupin.

lupin is ready to execute a man in cold blood seconds after learning he’s still alive, and he doesn’t give a shit that three children will be watching. that’s undoubtedly justified, given what wormtail did, but it’s an edge that the chocolate-loving king of cardigans never seems to have.

14. what is that one thing you see in fics all the time?

pornography, i suppose…

[ignitesthestxrs]

I know you said you’ve gone back into it slowly but any book recs?

yes absolutely!! i have read some bangers lately tbh. also another thing i am trying to do is start uuuh reviewing what i'm reading so i will link a couple of those as well. but here is a sporadic collection of my reading enjoyments of the last year or so!

IF FOUND RETURN TO HELL // THE DEATH I GAVE HIM by Em X. Liu

em is hands down one of the best writers i know with prose that will punch you in the face and leave you asking if you can have another, please.

IF FOUND RETURN TO HELL is a queer found family novella featuring a done-with-this protag working in a wizarding call centre who abruptly comes down with a case of 'sweet angel baby boy possessed by demon hell child' in a broken magical healthcare system where following protocol is more important than like, helping people. so what is journeyman wen to do if not, you know, help anyway?

THE DEATH I GAVE HIM is the queer scifi hamlet retelling of my dreams, which is funny because i didn't care about hamlet until this book taught me how to. a thoughtful exploration on the nature of adaptation, death & immortality, and also what happens when your best friend is an AI and you wanna fuck him.

IN COLD BLOOD by Truman Capote the original true crime novel. still stuck in my truman blorbo moment. full review here

ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE by Robin Hobb classic 90s fantasy with surprisingly emotional focus on the protag in a way i really dug. unhinged levels of accidental queerbaiting in a way that i enjoyed rather than despaired of. full review here.

PANDORA'S JAR: WOMEN IN THE GREEK MYTHS by Natalie Haynes a great overview of classical women that takes into account multiple sources and the way they have been read over centuries, and how the time in which a tale is being told affects the tale just as much as what the text of the story actually is. does a good job of walking the middle ground between like, historical sexism and the reflexive girlbossification instinct.

IN OTHER LANDS by Sarah Rees Brennan the queer harry potter offshoot we all actually deserve. portal fantasy with an acerbic main character who will save the world out of sheer spite because the world doesn't seem to think he can save it, or want him to do it even if he could. a genuinely lovely musing on the nature of loneliness, what abuse does to a child, how it's hard but possible to overcome the prejudices you learn when you're young, and how eventually, you're going to have to make the decision to let yourself be loved.

SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN by Shelley Parker-Chan truly i don't have the word for how fucking excellent this queer epic fantasy is. set in mongol-ruled china, this book is a masterclass in political intrigue, historical fiction, military fantasy, and also genderfuckery. feat. the kind of tragedy you see coming for several hundred pages and still takes your breath away when it hits, and also lesbian fisting. anyone who says books based in history can't get queer can get fucked.

A MARVELLOUS LIGHT by Freya Marske for a total 180 in mood, here is your queer romantic fantasy set in an Edwardian England that is reflective of the fact that like, queer people did in fact exist in Edwardian England. A lighter fare that nonetheless will hit you right in the heart and leave you delighted that a) there's a second book out now and b) the third one is coming soon. also Freya is an Artiste when it comes to writing good sex scenes, which

i belatedly realise it seems like i'm focusing on in this post but i just! like a queer text that tackles queer sex with nuance and interest and the horror and/or joy of the body, and the above authors are all fucking masters at their art (which includes, but by no means is limited to, writing about fucking)

[soartfullydone]

Did you ever read ACOSF? What did you think of the twilight baby plot?

Everything I know about ACOSF I've learned against my will lol. One of my best friends kept a play-by-play of each chapter in a Google Doc, so she could spare me the reading experience but also so we could make fun of it mercilessly.

In all seriousness, I knew I was never going to subject my eyes to it directly because I hate Nessian with a burning passion. I one-hundred percent believe that Nesta deserves better than everything she got, and she should've been meaner actually. Even when I somewhat liked ACOMAF, I felt utterly indifferent to Cassian. Who is this bland rice cake taking up the space where Lucien should be? No good dialogue or anything out of that guy. And then SJM wrote Nessian into MAF with all the subtlety of a clown show, and it was over. Nesta hates him! Keep him away from her! If she doesn't kill him, I will!

Most baby plots are horrendous in fiction, and I hate them deeply also. They often reduce women to being pure idiots (why do I have morning sickness after unprotected sex? a mystery!) or they reinforce this false idea that women can only achieve ultimate happiness by having their One True Love's baby. Ah, the number of women I know who are stuck in unhappy marriages, their sense of self completely lost because being a Wife and Mother comes first! Can those things be fulfilling? Absolutely. But a lot of folks are selling a romanticized idea of both, and SJM is no exception here.

Because look at what the Twilight baby plot does. It takes away all of Nesta's power, asserts her feelings of worthlessness, and encourages her to be a breeder for Cassian, who never even told her he loved her in their romance book. It puts her firmly and forever under Rhysand's and the Night Court's boot. It confirms that Feyre has also lost all her agency, that the High Lady title is meaningless, that her found family and Court do not respect her, that Rhysand will lie to her and trap her if it serves him to do so. That, ultimately, her body does not belong to her and she doesn't have a choice.

What really gets to me, too, is that these two women have to change their bodies to accommodate their love interests, their supposed fated mates. Methinks if it was fated, if they really were perfect for each other, this kind of change wouldn’t have been necessary 🤔. But also if this really were a fantasy story with all-powerful magical beings, there’s no reason why Feyre’s pregnancy should’ve been so risky to begin with. Barring that, there’s no reason why a C-section couldn’t have been an option. It was drama for the sake of drama, pain for the sake of pain. All filler, no substance.

Everything surrounding the baby plot and Nesta's forced captivity prove ACOMAF for the lie it is, a romanticized idea about overwritten trauma and choosing the Perfect Guy because he can read your mind and tell you the things you want to hear. I mean, how else do we go from Feyre earnestly believing she wants time with her new love, that a child can wait, to a Feyre who can't think of a single gift to give Rhys besides the news of her pregnancy? (Cue him cumming to the sight of their unborn child. I will never forget, and neither will you, dear anon, I'm sorry. But I didn't write it!)

And idk, given how much pregnancy in general squicks me out despite being a woman myself, how much medical care for women generally sucks, how many people are going through such pain with miscarriages, unviable pregnancies, and unclear yet strict abortion laws... This ain't it, fam! If SJM wants to talk real-life application with her trauma bullshit, then let's talk real-life application! Because no one, not a single person, has an I Am Become Death magic sister who can pull a dying mother and their dying baby back from the brink where medicine and the law have failed them. No one can have their premie who can't survive on its own suddenly turned into a healthy six-month-old. Who does this plot serve? Neither the reader nor the characters benefited.

I genuinely can't understand how SJM, as a mother herself, could write something so tone deaf, without even being brave enough to explore this kind of fear and pain with any care whatsoever. If she wanted Feyre and Nesta to actually bond over something... Feyre's pregnancy and what that means as a human-turned-fae and a mother could have been it. That could have been something the sisters discussed and helped each other with, where they could have learned more about each other and their deeper fears as young women in a society that does not truly respect them. Both of them share in family trauma, for fuck's sake! Now here Feyre is starting a new family at great risk while Nesta is still guiltily mourning the one she lost! The dots are there!

But no. Instead, not even Feyre is allowed to learn the truth about her pregnancy until Nesta tells her, and then Nesta is painted as a villain for doing so. Feyre isn't allowed to have any real opinion or lingering fears or doubts about her fate whatsoever. Because none of this stuff really matters, especially not the trauma. It's about the fucking, rutting, animal sex. It's about the smirking males, their dripping seed, and their inability to be anything besides horny at any given moment. It's about the washboard abs. Hey, a sexy story would be just fine with me! I just wish SJM would fully embrace that (and also write it better lmao) and get off her "I'm God's gift to feminism" soap box. Maybe take off the girlboss shades, too, because ain't none of her female characters even living up to the shallowness of a girlboss. The narrative undermines and undervalues them too much.

Actually, I have to clap my hands to SJM for this baby plot. I've never seen one that destroys two main female characters in a single stroke before. That's how powerful Rhysand's dick is.