#how do you cope with having elderly by you?

[c-cobweb]

ok so I was thinking about husband/doctor mayhew x wife/nurse reader that work together at the hospital and they fuck at the hospital but Lois confront them about it

love your writing btw 💗💗❤️

𝓞ur little secret ⋮ doctor charlie mayhew

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mndi!, smut, u p i v, immoral behaviours, husband!doctor charlie x wife!reader, a bit of angst, i think that’s all. a/n ᯓ thanks for the request and also thanks for the good words! i tried to do this the best i could ♡. ps: english is not my first language.

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Charlie's big hand was positioned over your mouth to prevent the sounds from being emitted too loud. His hips hit yours from behind at an accelerated pace, making his cock touch all the right places inside you. Your hands on the wall helped your back arch more, making the man's thrusts reach deeper.

“My little wife, always so responsive to me” Charlie whispered in your ear, accentuating the sentence with a firm stab.

You had to bite your husband's hand that covered your mouth the moment his free hand ended up on your clit, massaging it in slow and tortuous circles.

You were both in Lois' empty room while she was doing her rehabilitation exercises. And yes, you were fucking.

In your mind you were screaming for Charlie to let you cum, but you didn't dare to say it out loud knowing that your voice volume would be too high and that you would attract the attention of your co-workers and patients.

“Do you want to come, baby?” He asked mockingly while lightly biting the lobe of your right ear. “Come on, pray for it”

You grabbed his hand by the wrist to separate it from your mouth and be able to talk. “Please, please... Let me cum” You begged in a low voice and between moans. ��That's my girl” He said.

And with that, his thrusts and caresses to your clit increased and became stronger.

Finally the knot in your tummy fell apart making you wet your husband's cock. He kept lashing out at you to help you cope with the orgasm until you calmed down.

Charlie quickly came out of you — leaving you with a feeling of intense emptiness — and began to caress his member behind you.

You could hear how his breathing was agitated and how small curses came out of his lips. Seconds later you felt how his cum landed on your back.

You leaned completely on the wall, trying to calm your breathing while you felt how your husband was cleaning up the mess he had caused on your back.

Once you stabilised and were clean, you began to pick up your nurse's outfit, since you were the only one of the two who was completely naked, and with Charlie's help you began to dress.

When you were both presentable you left the room, luckily there was no one in the hallway who could betray you.

You arrived at the rehabilitation room where Lois was doing her exercises, but when she saw you, anger consumed her.

“You have done it again,” the woman said, you both looked at each other without understanding anything. “You've had sex in my room again”

You got nervous, but as always, Charlie knew perfectly what to do. “Don't talk nonsense, Lois. We would never do that”

“Do you think I'm stupid?” She asked offended and incredulous. “Every time I go back to my room it smells like sex, and it's obvious that it's your fault”

The other doctors and nurses who were in the room looked at the three of you, some with sorrow for Lois and others with compassion for you. It wasn't the first time Lois said crazy things about hospital workers.

“Please, we are professionals. We would never do something like that and much less in a patient's room” Your husband continued and you decided to contribute to the conversation. “Yes, Lois, what you're saying is in very bad taste. We were the ones who took care of you while you were in a coma”

It was at that moment that Lois started screaming that Charlie tried to kill her and that you did nothing to stop him. Some nurses began to take the elderly woman to her room while she resisted and shouted to leave her.

“We're going to drive her crazy” You whispered so that only Charlie would hear you, watching the scene with sorrow. He just let out a low laugh and wrapped his arm around your waist. “She's already crazy”

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mlist , bots

 c-cobweb 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[lacunasbalustrade]

random thought but one of my fav things while watching korean idol variety shows is when idols call their mothers or grandmothers when making traditional food/snacks (i see this most when they’re making kimchi) and idk,, it’s a very tender and warm sight. the way their tone changes into something more familiar and lighthearted when their family member picks up the call and the way their family members are so readily available to help them. it’s those rare moments of familial love and sincerity that stick with me.

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 1

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

unrelated snippet nr 2, unrelated snippet nr 3(?)

“Thank you, young man,” elderly man, a civilian, said to Phantom, squeezing his shoulder when the boy transported him away from the battle into an established safe zone. Hero froze for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“You’re… welcome?” he squeaked and flew back to fight the first chance he got, still dazed.

He was lost in thought the whole time he worked after that, rescuing some teen girls too curious, brave and stupid to run away on their own when they still had a chance. If Kid Flash didn’t warn him, one of the goons would land a really nasty hit, which should not have happened. Phantom had one of the best combat spatial awareness out of all of them. He couldn’t always react in time, but it almost never escaped him that an attack was coming.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

That was why, as soon as the fight was over,  Kaldur approached his teammate. He saw Robin doing the same.

Phantom, to give him credit where credit is due, didn’t fly away from the scene first given chance like always. Instead he sat in the space where they were transporting civilians, hand on his right shoulder, unseeing eyes locked on some cracks in the pavement. His mouth was moving without making a sound. He was covered in dust, like all of them.

“Phantom,” Kaldur asked through Mindlink “are you injured?”

Ghost flinched and turned his head, giving the leader a shaky smile. His eyes were still distant.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright. Sorry I was so out of it. Thanks for the rescue Wally, "the boy replied but his eyes slowly turned back to where he was staring before. Other than that, he hadn't moved.

“Phantom, what’s wrong?” Robin tried, both out loud and through Mindlink. Now the whole Team was concerned.

“It's nothing, really,” Phantom answered with a distant tone.“ Just… something weird happen and I need a moment to wrap my head around it”

“What was it?” Artemis asked bluntly before Conner did the Mindlink equivalent of smack on the back of a head. It was a bit weird to see Conner as the sensitive one. Black Canary was doing a great job with helping him over his anger.

“Let him process it on his own before you demand answers,” he growled.

“Adult civilian thanked me,” the ghost mumbled with awe at the same time. For a moment everyone froze in muted shock.

This explained so much while being so confusing. Yes, civilians tended to do it. It felt great. It didn’t warrant such an intense reaction.

“That's nice,” M’gann sent carefully after a long moment.

“Mhm… Really nice”

Kaldur slowly put a hand on the arm Phantom wasn’t holding, to help ground him a bit. Despite his efforts, the ghost flinched under his touch.

“We need to go to a bioship and back to the Mountain. You should probably come with us”

He expected a fight, he had various ideas how to convince younger boy but instead he heard quiet, small “Sure”

Ghost didn’t move for a long moment.

“Phantom?” Robin asked and again, the response was a violent flinch.

“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s dumb I’m just-” he transmitted some sort of lowering melody that Kaldur didn’t know “-right now”

“Did you just send Windows XP shutting down noise?!” Wally yelled, exasperated. 

“He did,” Robin snorted. Artemis laughed from one of the surrounding rooftops.

Phantom’s lips twitched with a minimal smile but it disappeared before it fully set. His brows furrowed as he stood up, shrugging Kaldur’s hand off in the process.

“Is this publicly known that I’m a ghost? Like, outside Amity? Or do people just assume I’m a meta?”

“Around 3% of discourse about you is ‘alive or not’-”Robin stated after few seconds of searching n his wrist computer “-with people saying stuff like ‘I’ve seen him breathe’ but everyone else responds with some variation of ‘Are you really going to tell kid how he’s supposed to cope with being dead? Really Jared?’ and the general consensus is that you are in fact a ghost. More people wonder what pronounce you use. Why?”

Phantom said nothing. Kaldur exchanged worried glances with Robin and called everyone else to meet by the bioship. It was a successful but tiring mission and they all wanted nothing more than to relax. After debrief because of course Batman would find things that could’ve gone better.

M’gann and Wally were already waiting by the time they got there. Martian was stiff and looked like she was focusing on some really hard task. She almost shut down the Mindlink.

“Phantom, your thoughts are really loud” she whispered out loud “Louder than normal ghost thoughts. I’m trying not to listen or to transmit it on Mindlink but it’s pretty hard. What’s wrong?”

Kaldur remembered the conversation they all had almost right after Phantom joined the Team. As it turned out, ghosts as ‘the beings of emotions’ had thoughts that Martians could read but on different frequencies than living, whatever that meant, and they were really loud. Like they were screaming on the top of their lungs.

Asphalt creaked ominously when Conner jumped down to join them.

“Sorry”

M’gann relaxed minutely before she got visibly angry.

“I don’t mean ‘shield everything’ Phantom, it’s extremely unhealthy, explain what’s wrong?!”

“Seriously guys, you’re all overreacting. It’s not that deep.  I'm just weirded out a bit”

“Your brain was screaming ‘It doesn’t make sense!’ on repeat” M’gann pointed out dryly, ending the Mindlink and motioned them inside the bioship right after Artemis scrambled down a fire escape and joined them.

Phantom skillfully ignored the concerned gazes of every member of the Team other than M’gann who at least pretended to focus on flying. He looked like he was trying to figure out some really complicated puzzle.

“What did this civilian say, exactly?” Robin asked, breaking the silence with a surprising amount of caution in his voice.

“He said ‘Thank you, young man’ and squeezed my shoulder,“ the ghost explained with a wistful and a bit hazy smile. It still didn't justify such an intense reaction “I can still feel it. T’was nice. Not strong enough to hurt but… sure? I didn’t do anything, really, and he most likely knows I'm a ghost, but he thanked me anyway. No sense”

Halfway through Robin seemed to get an idea and once again started typing away on his computer. Phantom sunk into his seat more comfortably, but he quickly returned to distressed overthinking.

“People rarely make sense,” Conner pointed out.

“Nah, you just can't people yet” Wally grinned between bites of his granola bar.

“Nah, you're just an extrovert with superpowers. People make no sense,” Artemis decided in a way that ended all arguments “But gratitude after rescue is pretty typical…”

“Not for Phantom“

“What do you mean, Robin?”

“He means, I'm a ghost, Kaldur,” Phantom started “Of course they're not thanking me. I'm an ‘odd,  manipulative and evil manifestation of post-living consciousness on ectoplasm‘ and ‘always hostile towards living but lack the sentience to comprehend moral aspects of my behavior‘ and ‘should be eradicated for betterment of the living realm’.” he recited almost cheerfully and it made something in Kaldur’s stomach twist. Judging by their faces, his teammates felt the same way.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” M’gann asked carefully.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe this or not. They do. Why would anyone thank me? Especially an adult. Teens apparently decided I'm hot so they support me, which is also weird, and kids think I'm cool because of the ectoblasts and can fly. They usually gush about being saved like ‘omg it’s Phantom’ which is still weird but not as surreal as anyone actually thanking. But that dude was probably on retirement. He wasn’t someone I would expect to have any positive interaction with. Most people his age would try to exorcize me or something”

“That certainly isn’t an aster”

“Eh, I’m fine. Most are just yelling. Problems start when anti-ghost weapons, especially guns, get on the table but I can’t blame them for that one too”

“Dude, I cannot express how far from fine this is”

“You deserve gratitude Phantom” Kaldur added “You’re doing a lot of great work”

“If you say so”

“Also, can we go back to the guns? How often do the people you’re saving try to shoot you?” Artemis asked, raising her head from inspecting her arrows.

“Amity Park is to ghost hunters what Gotham is to crime rates in the USA. Should not be counted if you want something actually similar to reality. Of course they have guns to shoot ghosts. And, let me remind you, I am a ghost-”

“I think we can talk about it another time. How do you feel, Phantom?” M’gann interrupted from her seat, intensly not looking back at them. She once again was tense.

“Still weird as hell to be honest”

“Good weird or bad weird” she pressed on. Kaldur kinda wanted to know what made her do that.

“Good… I think? I know a lot of emotions because I hang out with Jazz Fenton and she pshychoanalizes everyone but I have no idea what to call this. I’m happy that he said this, ecstatic even. But I’m still confused and cautious. Some part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this man to come back, after realizing I’m evil ghost and call hunters and call me manipulative ecto-scum while looking me in the eyes and smile when I’m shot at”

“Did this happen? It’s a bit too specific to believe it didn’t” Wally announced.

“As if only once!” Phantom laughed in an almost hysterical way.

“Don’t think about it right now,” M’gann demanded “Do you want to tell us more about the thanks you got?”

Next words Phantom whispered as if he was sharing some important, sacred secret.

“When he squeezed my arm, it was such a gentle gesture. Such a gentle touch” he sounded on the verge of tears. 

“Was it?”

“Yeah... Sorry I’m such a mess over it” ghost muttered after a moment, trying to dry his face with his sleeve. It couldn’t be too helpful nor pleasant, considering his uniform was made mostly out of rubber.

“That’s alright”

“He was so kind and like… cautious too, y’know? Like he cared to not hurt me. When my dad pats me on the back, I’m left out of breath and have to do a few steps to not fall face first on the ground and he thinks I’m normal,” it was always a bit disturbing to hear Phantom talk about his family in present tense. They never mentioned it because they knew when it was bad idea to say something but it didn’t make these instances any less unnerving“And this random civilian seen me as Phantom, almost invulnerable and powerful ghost and chose to be gentle”

Nobody mentioned tears dropping from Phantom’s eyes and down his chin.

“That sounds nice” 

“It was. And I, like an idiot, stuttered ‘you're welcome’ and escaped as soon as I could” ghost grumbled, bringing himself back from the memory. Robin actually laughed, honest and open instead of the creepy giggle he used on all sorts of villains. Everyone else soon joined and between breaths someone choked out:

“I did this so many times. So many. I could probably buy a lollipop if I got a cent every time I did it. Maybe even two”

As soon as they weren’t at immediate risk of laughing to death Robin decided to risk it again by starting a captivating tale of clueless Batman holding a baby, getting pie as a present, getting pie in his face and few others.

When he finished, the comfortable type of silence stretched through the Bioship. Everyone was just contently resting, maybe even taking a nap before the ordeal of listening to Batman's ‘Every mistake you made today with sub and sub-sub categories’ lecture while keeping themselves from laughing after all the stories Robin just shared. Kaldur himself was almost asleep when Phantom whispered:

“Is it this nice the second time too?”

“Yeah. It’s even better when you start believing it”

[1800-fight-me]

Crybaby

Old Man!Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, crying, not much else Word count: A little over 2k Synopsis: Taking care of an ailing Charles and pining after Logan is exhausting and crying about it seems to be the only solution.(Set before the events of Logan) Author’s note: This is just two thousand words of me expressing how much I love Logan.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

You were sick of being a crybaby, really - you were. 

But you couldn’t help it as your throat closed up and your eyes filled with hot tears. 

You couldn’t help it as the torrent of emotions within overwhelmed you. 

Rushing into your room and shutting the door behind you- isolation your only solace but also the knife in your heart. But you couldn’t let Logan see or hear you cry. 

It had been a rough day altogether. 

Caring for an ailing Charles was challenging on his best days and miserable on his worst. And today was one of those worst days. 

The disease in his brain turned the normally kind and gentle man into a confused, desperate person who could say the most vicious things to cope with the hell of it all. 

At times, when the medicine wore thin and you frantically practiced barely there patience as you waited for Logan to bring a restock, Charles could read your mind. It wasn’t the way he used to, more like he got flickers of your internal monologue. And he used it against you. 

“You ridiculous girl, he’s never going to love you, you might as well give up,” he said as he glared at you. 

They shouldn’t have, but the words hit you like a dagger in the heart. 

“Charles, please just let me help you get in the bed. Aren’t you tired?” you begged. 

“He resents you, just like I do,” the elderly man said. 

The dagger twisted. 

You took deep breaths but couldn’t prevent the tears that filled your eyes. 

“Charles, that’s okay, let’s just get you to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning,” you coaxed, certain that desperation and pain were evident in your gaze. 

A flicker of the old Charles appeared as you saw regret flash in his eyes. 

He let you assist him in settling into his bed. 

“I hate it here,” he said, his voice petulant in a near childlike way. 

“I know,” you said gently as you pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled the blankets up to his chin. 

The door behind you opened and you breathed a sigh of relief as you heard the sound of Logan’s shuffling gait. 

“Hey,” you breathed out as you looked over at him. 

Everytime you saw him it took your breath away, like a punch in the gut. He was beautiful in a way that hurt, the kind of beauty that felt too far from reach. 

He walked up and without a word pulled Charles’ medicine out of a bag and handed it to you. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you looked up at Logan. He just nodded, lips pursed and brow furrowed. 

Charles looked at you in a knowing pointed way that you ignored. 

“Take these first,” you murmured to Charles. 

You handed Charles the pills and he began to protest but Logan snapped, “Listen to her. Take the damn pills Charles.”

Charles grumbled but then did as he was told. 

You gently reached for his arm, turned it over, and inserted the needle. 

Charles’s breaths soon became slower as his eyes fluttered closed. 

You trailed behind Logan and stared at his broad shoulders as he walked out and made his way to the main living area. 

With a grunt shucked off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. He tossed the bag he held of additional supplies on the table as he did so. 

“Logan, a-are you okay? Whose blood is that?” you gasped as you took in his blood soaked button-down. 

“M-fine,” he grunted and shook his head. 

You stepped closer and reached for his shirt but he batted your hand away. 

“Logan,” you protested. 

He held onto your hand and your breath caught at the scrape of his callouses as his much larger hand enveloped yours in warmth. 

“I don’t need any help, sweet girl,” he said as his gorgeous hazel eyes met yours. You wanted to rub your thumbs across the wrinkles in his brow. You wanted to run your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You wanted to trace the curve of his plush bottom lip. 

You took a shuddered breath as you attempted to control the impulsive part of your brain and stop yourself from reaching out and touching his handsome face. 

“Are you hurt?” you asked. 

He sighed deeply. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not your problem.”

He let go of your hand and suddenly it felt so cold. 

“I can help,” you said. 

“Look, you’re here to take care of Charles. I don’t need you to fuckin’ baby me. I’m capable of caring for myself, okay?” he snapped. 

You blinked rapidly and looked down to avoid him seeing your eyes fill up with tears. You really didn’t want to be called a crybaby for the second time in a week- Charles had thrown that insult at you only a couple of days ago. 

“Okay sorry,” you muttered and swiftly made your way to your room. 

You made sure to shut the door behind you. You plopped on your bed and covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. You didn’t want Logan to overhear you, it would be too embarrassing. 

Your heart ached. Your love for Logan had turned into something rotten inside your chest. 

What started as an innocent crush on the older man had transformed into an intense years long ache that sat deep within your soul. There was no resolution, no other man for you, nowhere else to direct your affection and yearning. 

And Logan wouldn’t even let you give it to him. He held you at arms lengths, well- most of the time. Every once in a while, when you could only assume he was feeling particularly vulnerable - he gave you a drop of gentleness. It only fueled the torch you held for him as the ache only became stronger. 

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t or couldn’t just let you in. At times you felt you saw a glimmer of the real him beneath the gruff exterior, but he always covered it up with even more grumpiness. 

To you, Logan hung the moon. You loved everything about him, even when he frustrated you to the point of wanting to scream, even when his harsh words made you cry, even as you watched him age from poisoning from the metal within his body, even as you watched him work himself to the bone and destroy himself with an extended lifetime of detrimental habits like over-drinking, smoking, and fighting. 

You loved him unconditionally and you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let you. 

He worked so hard to care for you and Charles. You just wanted to take care of him for once, to treat him with the gentleness he’d been so starved of for centuries, to drench him in your care. 

But you couldn’t. So you ached, and ached, and ached. 

Charles was right, you decided. Logan would never love you. 

Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your sobs. 

If Charles was right about that then maybe he was right that Logan resented you. Maybe he only kept you around because he couldn’t manage caring for Charles himself. 

Maybe he wished you weren’t around. 

You pressed your hand harder against your mouth as the despair wrapped itself around you like a dark cloak as you wept. 

This unrequited love was becoming more than you could handle. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything different. There was no possible way you could walk away. You would take the scraps you received from Logan because it was better than nothing at all. 

There was no happy ending in this for you, no resolution. 

A knock at your door broke you from your spiraling thoughts. 

You hiccuped and quickly wiped away your tears. 

“Y-yeah?” you called out. 

Logan opened your door and stepped into the room. 

“Didn’t mean to make ya cry,” he grumbled. 

“M’not crying,” you mumbled as you scrubbed away the last of the tears. 

He gave you a deadpan look that made you huff a small laugh. 

“It’s pretty easy to make me cry,” you muttered the joke at your own expense. 

He cracked a small smile. He looked at you expectantly as he waited for you to explain. 

“It was just a tough day,” you explained. “Charles was just… well you know how he gets sometimes. He was pretty mean. I know he didn’t mean it. And then you…” 

You trailed off as you looked up at him. 

He moved from leaning against the wall and sat at the end of your bed. 

He reached over and placed his hand over yours where it sat in your lap. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said, his voice soft and low. 

“I- I can't help it,” you said. 

He sighed. 

“Why does it upset you that I worry about you? That I want to help you? To take care of you?” you asked with more boldness than you’ve ever shown him. 

He pressed his lips together and swallowed. His head ticked to the side as he glanced away from you, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability you were asking of him. 

The silence stretched long. 

“It makes me feel old- like less of a man. Makes me feel like you think I can’t take care of you the way a man should,” he finally admitted. 

You were pretty certain your heart made an audible cracking sound. 

You gripped his hand and moved closer to him on the bed, close enough that your knees knocked against his. 

You placed a hand on the side of his face, your sensitive fingers brushed against his coarse beard and marveled at the fact that he let you. 

“I would never think of you that way. You do take care of me. I just worry about the stress that Charles and I put on you. I just want to help. I care about you - so much.” 

He nuzzled his face into your hand. 

“You do help. More than you know,” he murmured. 

Another tear slipped from your eye and he wiped it away. 

“My sweet girl, my little crybaby,” he said with amused affection and you choked on a laugh. 

“Lo-“ 

“You don’t want this- me. You deserve a better life than this old man can give you,” he said. 

You shook your head.

“I don’t want any life that doesn’t have you in it,” you said fervently. 

The hand he had on the side of your face slipped to the back of your head. He moved as he pulled you towards him and then his lips were on yours. 

Your heart pounded and threatened to burst from your chest. 

He kissed you- Logan was kissing you and it was better than you ever imagined. 

The press of his lips against yours was firm and yet gentle, the plush of his lips gave way as you moved your lips against his, as you sunk into the kiss. 

Your eyes filled with tears for what felt like the hundredth time of the day. This time the cause was joy. You felt like you were flying as you finally received the affection from him you’d been so desperate for after years of pining for him. 

The kiss could’ve lasted seconds or it could’ve lasted a lifetime - it didn’t matter, no time with Logan was enough. 

He poured his love into your lips, into the tangle of his tongue with yours as he explored your mouth. All the unspoken words no longer needed as you tasted one another, as your hands gripped each other tightly, as you felt at home in one another’s arms. 

And when you finally broke apart, lips

curved into smiles, tears in both your eyes, it was as if the world had stopped just for the two of you. 

In this little moment with his forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingled, life was perfect. 

The challenges of today and tomorrow were infinitesimal when you had one another. That kiss sealed your promise - that you would both take care of one another, forever.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Supporting them - Amanda, John, Mark and Lawrence

warning : angst, hurt/comfort, cuddling, kissing, mentioning of self-harm

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanda : The sweet but addicted Amanda is punished by life and resurrected by Jigsaw to start a new life. But this is easier said than done since she tasted the metal and the blood, something has broken inside her and has come together in the form of emotionality and emotional outbursts, all under the cover of fear that she will not be able to live up to John or be left alone by him. Which is why, especially after Mexico and the first game, she seemed all the more nervous, but her partner was there to help her. Whether it was just words of praise or reassurance when the black-haired girl was too nervous. A hand on her shoulder or on her, ,,Just breathe it will be fine" she heard the voice of her lover when she felt her emotions boiling over. A hug behind closed doors and the encouraging gestures. A small snack or just a look was enough to tell her that everything would be alright. They are small things but they help her immensely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John : Jigsaw himself, as strong and effective as his actions are, is vulnerable when reduced to a human being. An elderly man who has terminal cancer and is dying of it. gets robbed of life for changing other people. And yet. But he had his favorite. His partner who helped him with everything Amanda couldn't help with. Sitting together on the couch in his house in the evenings, one hand resting on his in his lap. Showering him with stories of better times and telling him how good he was. That everything was going to be fine, making him warm tea and getting his medication ready. Maybe even try to force him to sleep and continue the drawings. Do everything so that he didn't overexert himself, he had suffered enough. ,,Don't worry John, we'll manage...your work will go on until the end" he heard the words and a small smile came to his lips as he looked at the person with love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark : The policeman, scarred by the life of the bear trap and the death of his sister, had lost everything for a time in his life. Alcohol was his best and only friend until he met not only John but also his lover. The thoughts of the darkness that surrounded him were not only tinged with brutality and a slight arrogance, but also with devotion. He loved the little gestures you did for him. A coffee in the evening, a little note, a hug when he came home and a cuddle when his mornings were hard. ,,My strong policeman... you are everything Mark, understand? I will always help you," said his favorite and hugged the older one. The older one replied that he was glad to have someone still worth loving but for everything that had happened he was grateful to have his partner. Someone he could kiss, someone who was there for him, someone he could trust after everything that had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence: The divorce from his wife, the loss of his daughter, the death of his friend Adams and the loss of his mentor and his failure with Jill. It was a time when he needed help, help to deal with his body and the loss of his leg. But it was also a time when he met his angel, his partner who not only helped him cope with his prosthesis but also with the process of his daughter. The nights were usually longer and he was afraid that the plans would not turn out right. But when he felt the reassuring hand of his darling on his shoulder, smelled coffee and felt a warm blanket around him. ,,Don't get cold, sweetie... go to sleep, I'll stay with you okay," he heard the voice and smiled slightly. They were small cares and yet they were gestures that showed him that nothing was in vain. He still had hope and love by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@callmeklarise

[auncyen]

ALSO ALSO while thinking about the whole Sadness scenario I started thinking about "how common are Sadnesses in every day life and how are they handled?" The first I would imagine is that they're relatively rare and the latter is that. Any sizable community has both preventive and healing measures (because they have to figure someone eventually's going to slip through the cracks, or they might get someone trying to escape a rough past). I kind of feel like since the Defenders in Jouvente never saw anything worse than robbery probably a lot of their work is actually along the lines of community service where they're like repairing things, checking in on disabled/elderly/otherwise isolated residents to make sure they're doing okay and see if there's anything they can do to help, etc. In a big city like Jouvente it's probably not uncommon to see a Sadness on the "harmless blob" level, but it's treated as a serious matter where they need to try to figure out who needs help before they get worse.

But like, on an individual scale, you probably get more mixed feelings about Sadnesses than just "oh let's help the person". And like.

...So basically how the chain of thought went was "y'know kids can be depressed/upset sometimes and if they're REALLY young they don't know how to express what they're feeling at all. can you imagine how terrifying it'd be for parents to have their child be all sad and then seem a little happier for a moment, saying they have a friend, and then you catch them with their 'friend' and YOUR FOUR-YEAR-OLD IS PLAYING WITH THEIR OWN SADNESS"

then it was like "isn't one of the Sadnesses literally just Anxiety. That'd be one hell of a way to find out your child has anxiety, because they've got a Sadness"

then: "...wait. Mirabelle has anxiety."

Just like. If Mirabelle being on kind of distant/weird terms with her family is because her anxiety was causing her so much distress that she had a Sadness as a child and whether her parents just didn't try or did try but were at a loss of how to help her, she ended up at a House of Change as part of like a healing program (being taught coping skills, life skills to build confidence) and eventually just was like YEAH I'D RATHER STAY HERE AND BE A HOUSEMAIDEN

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Platonic!Yandere Batman!Damian with new young robin!reader headcannons (extra points if you include uncle Jon and the league somehow)

Platonic! Yandere! Batman! Damian Wayne x Robin! Reader

Damian Wayne x reader. Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader/ Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 5604 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, manipulation, adult Damian Wayne (based on Batman in Bethlehem), toxic family relations, obsession & Platonic yandere.

Okay, so I imagine that this all occurs at a time when Bruce has resigned and most of the others have moved on in some way, not only leaving Damian as the only one available and willing to take over the Batman cowl, but also making him impossibly alone. Desperate, abandoned and lonely. 

Dick is busy with his life in Blüdhaven, (either married to Barbara or Koriand’r, maybe even with a kid), working primarily as a detective for the Blüdhaven police force. He’s juggling a career, family and, obviously, his vigilante patrols at night, so the time left to visit Damian is minimal. 

Jason still occasionally patrols the streets at night, but he’s mostly out with Starfire and Roy, either playing uncle with Lian/Kori’s possible kid or doing Outlaws missions whenever Chesire/Jade Nguyen pulls herself together enough to take care of her daughter for a while. Jason is too busy getting his own life on track to even start worrying about Damian’s loneliness. 

Tim is probably still in Gotham, although he’s also busy. He’s building his own life as well, either with Bernard or some other girlfriend/boyfriend of his. He’s probably busy renovating an apartment close to the manor, on top of Wayne Enterprise work and vigilante obligations, giving him no free time to come visit for leisure time. Sure, Damian communicates with him over the comms on a daily basis, but it’s not really the same as speaking to someone face to face. Not to mention that shouting orders, descriptions and coordinates probably doesn’t count as a proper conversation.

Alfred is probably dead. I know everyone always jokes that he’s immortal, but even if he was, no one can deal with the Wayne family for more than a single lifetime. So, whether he clocked out naturally or simply, using his all-mighty Alfred powers, just decided to let his life seep out of him like air in a balloon. Alfred is gone.

In Alfed’s place, Bruce has stepped up as a type of off-brand Alfred. He’s retired his superhero alias, and now only has his CEO duties to focus on, which would’ve been a lot for most people, but this is Bruce and to him, it’s too little. So he has learned to cook, hires people to clean the house, make the beds etc. and has, (through observing the best dry cleaners he could possibly hire), learned to wash clothes, attempting to emulate Alfred as some type of coping mechanism for his absence. That doesn’t mean he has the same emotional intelligence as Alfred, it’s still Bruce we’re talking about, but he has the practicalities down. So yeah, Bruce has become an elderly man. But since he still is good old Bruce, that also means that his emotional availability is practically non-existent, made in no way better by the fact that he shut himself in even more after Alfred’s passing and most of his children flying away from the nest. Bruce longs for the old times, longs for the comforting presence of Alfred and the jolly sounds of younger people chit-chatting. Yet, no matter how much Damian might attempt to engage in longer conversations with Bruce, it’s not happening.

If you have a hard time imagining how Damian would look like Batman, think of Batman in Bethlehem. He has exchanged the unhandy cape for the much more practical coat, which not only gives him a more serious appearance but also proves to be a great weapon against the Gotham cold, as well as leaving much more room for gadgets, weapons and, just like his father, a secret compartment for treats. He is a much more menacing and unforgiving Batman compared to his father, never letting a goon get away. He is thorough to the point of near-perfection, which is damn impressive, but it’s also draining on Damian, both physically and emotionally. His father had a horde of Robins, Batgirls and the sporadic extra orphan to aid him in his pursuit for justice, all Damian has is Tim, and occasionally Jason, the latter of which is slowly coming to the realisation that sustaining the same muscle mass as a cow for decades takes a toll on your joints. 

So, even before Damian encounters you, he’s been in the search of someone to make the nightly patrolling of Gotham easier. Damian’s original intention hadn’t been to get a Robin. Actually, he considered “rescuing” an assassin from his mother’s army at the League of Assassins and reprogramming their mind through the various means that had been proven useful in war situations of the past… He did briefly consider asking Dick to contact M’gann for some “healthy” use of mind control. Yeah… Damian is not nearly as morally self-righteous as Bruce, another factor which has driven a wedge between the two.

However, then Damian met you. 

I can imagine that you had recently moved to Gotham, either with your family or alone. You’re probably no older than sixteen at the time of your and Damian's meeting, so if you’re moving to Gotham alone, you’re probably going to be at Gotham academy’s boarding school. But no matter what, you happen to be a huge Batman and, ostensibly, Robin fan. You have posters hung on your wall and photos of you dressing up as Robin when you were younger. It’s not quite Tim Drake-levels of fanboy/girl/person, but you are a bonafide fan.

So, as a fan, you enjoy looking out into the Gotham night, spotting either Red Robin or Batman pass in the air with the wires of their gliders shining in the moonlight. It gives you a sense of safety, knowing that the city has its protectors. Like any other fan, you can’t help but fantasise about how it’d feel to be one of them. How nice it must feel to have the wind hit your cheeks as you zoom through the night sky, and how cool you’d look in one of those fancy superhero suits. 

You have made multiple drawings throughout your youth of yourself as Robin or sometimes even your own made-up hero. You’ll prance around your room alone, listening to music, jumping from your desk chair to your bed to anywhere else with a flat surface, pretending that you’re a vigilante. Heck! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had begged your parents to send you to some type of martial arts as a kid. Begging, praying and practically kissing their feet until they oblige. That is, of course, if you didn’t have parents who had already sent you to karate/Jujitsu/you name it, before you yourself ever came up with that idea. 

I can imagine that the day you and Damian’s ways cross, it’s while he’s out as Batman. For some reason you’ve been left alone to go home/to the academy in the late evening hours, (a recipe for disaster in Gotham). Maybe you had to attend some school-arranged art show/science fair/literature competition and the teachers hadn’t coordinated a way for students to come home/your parents had forgotten that you were out for the night. Whatever it was, you were scared and alone, walking through the streets of Gotham at night. 

As will always happen in Gotham under such circumstances, a large shadowy man emerges from within one of Gotham’s many alleys. He’s neither quiet nor light on his feet, but he is big and the stench of piss, alcohol and decay attacks you before he even has the chance to. You might try to run, but his legs are longer than yours and he reaches you before you get anywhere. Huge grubby hands encase around your collar, heaving you up against a nearby brick wall, the rough texture cutting into the back of your head and back. You might try to use your martial arts knowledge to attempt to fend him off, and you may be successful. However, once you manage to make the man drop you, a swarm of similar-looking men emerge from the nearby alleys, alerted by the noise. They practically lick their lips at the sight of a young and defenceless school student, dumb enough to emerge after dark, it’s practically a Christmas gift for these degenerates. They surround you and you realise that you can’t fight them all, not at once. Your screams for help alert everyone in the neighbourhood, but none will come to your rescue, that’s just how Gotham functions. None…Except for Batman.

Damian hears your scream and within minutes the goons who attempted to attack you are on the floor, heads busted and limbs broken, some scramble away in fear, but end up with Damian’s grappling hook ripping a hole through their legs. The green-eyed Batman is surprisingly efficient, and it takes him no time to get you to safety, scoping you into his arms, as if you weighed less than a feather, and with his grappling hook, he flies through the air to the nearest rooftop. If you hadn’t been so traumatised and shocked by the near-death experience you just had, you might’ve been able to appreciate the experience of literally being saved by your idol. But alas you were, and the shaking of your limbs and rattling of your brain made you wholly unable to connect with reality. 

Damian is patient with you, his glowed hands trace your back as you slowly gather your breath, and once the worst shock is out of your body, he reaches into his breast pocket, where he pulls out a lolly, offering it to you. Now, one should never accept candy from a stranger, but when that stranger is Batman, you can be fairly certain it won’t be tampered with. As such, you accepted the candy with wide burning eyes. Your attempts at slowly peeling away the plastic were a hard-fought battle and Damian had to help you, slowly guiding your hand towards your mouth as you popped the candy into your mouth. The sweetness helped ground you a little, not to mention that it also helped you regain some of your lost powers.

When Damian reckons that you are mentally present again, he prompts you to tell him what happened. With trembling lips, you started to mutter out an answer, about how you had to walk alone because no one was there to get you home safely, how you’d fended one of the men off but then more just came, you almost let a sob slip, but manage to keep it in. Your emotional control and fighting spirit impress Damian, but more importantly, the utter imbecility of the adults in your life makes Damian feel a rage unlike any other.

Damian would take you home in his arms, barging through the front door of either your parents’ apartment or the front door of the academy. He ignores the protest of any adults attempting to stop him, even daring to roughly push them out of the way, as he carries you to your room, following your directions. Once he’s there, he’ll carefully put you on your bed and tug you in like a little kid, no matter your age at the time. He brushes your hair out of your face, (if you have any), and gently swipes your forehead with his thumb. This may seem like inappropriate behaviour for a stranger, but he’s Batman and you’re traumatised and still in shock. It’s his best attempt at calming you down.

Once you’re tugged in, he goes to your guardian, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns. He’ll scream his throat dry, reprimanding them for their carelessness, and if you’re living with your parents, he’ll threaten to call CPS on them. He’ll leave the building with a huff and a last warning of revenge should anything similar ever happen again.

It’s after this that Damian has a hard time letting go. He can’t help but constantly fear that you’re being mishandled in some way by your carers. He has nightmares of you in an alley, getting shot like his grandparents or worse… No! It’s so awful that he can’t even bear the thought. These tumultuous emotions will move him to the absolute edge, and to satiate his anxiety, even just a little, he’ll take to stalk look after you. He’ll follow your movements every free minute he has between working at Wayne Enterprises and patrolling the city as Batman, and if you have a bike or pair of shoes you often use, he’ll somehow manage to slip a tracker in there to follow your every move, even when he’s at work or out patrolling. “It’s just to keep them safe”, he’ll tell himself, justifying his actions. But really, whatever his intentions might’ve been in the beginning, they slowly morph into something darker, more possessive. Damian starts to wonder if he might not be a better parent and mentor to you than your real parents. They’re neglectful, he surmises. Either they were the ones who let you walk through Gotham at night, or they simply shipped you off to Gotham Academy, which clearly had no idea how to take care of its students.

Damian might force Bruce to attend his retelling of the night he met you, how he had to follow you around...to ensure your safety, of course! He twists the story and paints your parents as the most horrendous of people, totally disinterested in the well-being of their child, it makes Bruce pity you. Damian suggests that they take you, and make sure that you get a safer environment, with Damian adopting you, in a sense. Bruce isn’t entirely convinced of this, citing that they cannot just kidnap you from your home. However, when Damian mentions how you’re pretty much like Tim, except a better person in every regard, Bruce’s longing for nostalgia slowly creeps back through the cracks. His mind swirls with memories of little Dick, Jason, Tim and even Damian. When was the last time they had a kid, or at least a young person, in the house? It’s been so long that he barely remembers. The house is too big just for two adult men, they could really use someone to spice up the atmosphere. And as such, Bruce is on board… Not that Damian would’ve listened to him if he said otherwise.

  With the decision made that you will become the newest in a long line of adopted Waynes, Damian sets out to get you. He will attempt to make it look natural… like the way Bruce adopted Dick after his parents died… Yeah, wouldn’t it be a shame if all your aunts and uncles suddenly started having issues in their life leaving them incapable of ever taking care of themselves, let alone you if something happened to your parents? 

And wouldn’t it be even more of a shame if… let’s say, after pretty much all adults in your family either died, was run bankrupt or somehow ended up in jail… your parents finally die in a freak accident. Perhaps it’s a car crash due to someone having messed with its tailpipe? Or maybe they went to the cinema, only for the projector to hit them… and only them? It could even just be that while you’re out of the house/at the academy that they suddenly have a carbon monoxide slip in their home, making them silently sleep in the arms of the grim reaper. 

Whatever it is, your parents will mysteriously die, and with no one else in your family able to take you in, the Gotham police department is left at a standstill. If you came from another country than the US, they might talk about sending you back to an orphanage there… anything is better than Gotham… but if you’re American they’ll have no other choice than to start preparations to move you into one of the rat-infested shiteholes calling themselves Gotham orphanages.

Wherever you’re from, you don’t have to wait more than a day before someone unexpectedly shows up at the police station, just as the pitying policemen are trying to help you pack your last stuff into boxes, ready to be sent wherever you need to go. Multi-billionaire, Damian Wayne. Everyone at the station is suspicious about how the green-eyed Wayne heard about the sudden availability of an orphan without any family to go to, but he’s a Wayne, so they’re not surprised… They have a thing for adopting orphans after all. And that’s exactly what Damian proposes!

The broad-shouldered man will bow down to your level, reach out a hand, a gentle smile on his otherwise hardened features, and offer you to join him as his ward. With the horror stories you’ve heard of orphanages combined with the possibility of being adopted by a literal billionaire, you don’t hesitate to accept, albeit reluctantly. Whatever reservations the police may have is waved off by the thought that the Waynes have experience with orphans and they’ll be able to give you a life so much more engaging than anyone else ever possibly could. To most of them, this seems like the perfect ending to your otherwise sad story… If only they knew.

Any legal troubles with adopting you, or if any relative attempts to better themselves to be able to take over your care, will be solved with a wat of cash in someone corruptible’s hands and a slight threat of homicide. To anyone except Damian, the adoption went entirely smoothly and without a hitch.

Once you’re settled in with Damian and Bruce, you’ll come to realise that this life really isn’t all that you expected it to be.  The trauma of your parents’ deaths is still fresh, but Damian expects you to get over it within the first few weeks, he is after all, (in his mind at least), your new “dad/mentor”, you’re not alone…Not like he’s been for the past many years… So why can’t you just settle into your new life with vigour? Or at least not mope around most of the time! 

Bruce is more patient than Damian, he’ll let you open up to him, even if he’s bad with emotions. I can imagine that after the death of your parents, you might develop heavy night terrors, to which Bruce will attempt to calm you by sitting at your bedside until you fall asleep. If you feel especially anxious one night, Bruce will swear that he and Damian will protect you, no matter what. After a while, Damian will take over nightguard duty, realising that he needs to let you open up slowly… or at least not instantly…

Damian might start reading you bedtime stories, even if you’re technically too old for them. His voice is just so calming, its eclectic accent combined with clear brass undertones, both of which remind you of a certain hero… It makes you momentarily forget the fear and despair that came with the death of your parents, so, even if it’s a little infantilising, you appreciate Damian’s presence as you fall asleep, it makes you feel safe. 

If you’ll let him, Damian will trace calming circles on your back while reading, and if you ask him to, he’ll tell you stories from his childhood… the censored versions, he doesn’t want your delicate ears to get hurt by him explaining how he knew a million ways to kill a man before he even turned ten…

You will live a relatively comfortable life with Bruce and Damian for a while, getting introduced to the others whenever they find the time to drop by to meet the new member of the Wayne legacy, as well as getting acquainted with Jon Kent, who, (as Damian’s best friend), demands to be called uncle, despite you not even calling Damian dad… At least not yet. If all this attention on you makes you uncomfortable and feel like a zoo exhibition, Damian will immediately ban everyone except Jon and Tim from visiting for the next long while, even Dick. Tim kinda needs access to the manor for when he and Damian are doing patrol debriefings and Jon refused to not come around, besides he’s so disarming that you’ll probably get used to him quickly… whether or not you end up calling him uncle.

After a while, Damian might come to the conclusion that to truly bond with you he must give you an outlet for your frustrations… And he only knows one way that ever really worked for him… Becoming Robin.

One day, when you come home from school, Damian will command you to follow him in a tone which you had never heard him speak to you with before. It is hard, serious and foreboding, chills will spread up your back and through your fingers, a bad taste will invade the back of your throat and your breaths cut short… What did you do? Was Damian going to throw you back on the path of an orphanage kid? What had you done?

What you did not expect was for Damian to strut up to an old grandfather clock, turning the arrows on the white disk to exactly 10:47. Whether or not you’re the type of person to be easily surprised, there’s no way you wouldn’t be at least a little taken aback when the large clock swung back, revealing the entrance to what looked to be a cave.

You had no context to put it up against and as such your fear took over, making you slowly back away from the hole in the wall that had just been revealed. Damian’s weird behaviour doesn’t make the situation any better either. Really, for you, there’s no telling what’s going on.

Damian notices your hesitation and briefly takes offence until he senses your genuine fear.  “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just a family secret that I trust you enough to know.” He’ll try to reassure you, whether it works or not doesn’t matter, as he picks you up like you weighed nothing and carries you down the metal steps… He doesn’t trust you to not fall and hurt yourself.

Once down in the cave, he’ll reveal to you that he’s Batman, the second one to bear the monicker. He’ll reveal the hero identities of all your “new uncles”, even Jon. All the information that he believes you could possibly need will be loaded onto you in a “brief” thirty minutes monologue. By the end of it, you’re floored… who wouldn’t be? This is probably the last thing anyone would ever consider when moving in with a new family. A bit of your fan behaviour might poke through, as you go from shocked to concerned to almost a little ecstatic… your favourite hero is your adopted father… Wow! The powers above really shone down on you after you had lost everything, huh?

But the pleasant surprises don’t stop there as Damian starts to describe how most Robins lost their birth parents somehow, (with him being the exception), and how most of them worked through this, (not really), by becoming vigilantes. You start to wonder and maybe even hope that he’ll offer the position to you, but multiple times have to remind yourself to stop dreaming, it would be unlikely, right? I mean, you might be able to fight, but not vigilante-level, right? Well… Damian disagrees, and he offers you to become his Robin. In all your star-struck wonder, you fail to see the possessive and obsessive glint in his eyes. You accept on the spot, feeling as if it’s a dream come true.

From then on, your days will be filled with nothing except school, family and Robin training, there’ll simply be no time for friends and going out doing your own thing, and Damian loves it! He believes you’re the safest when you’re within the manor or in his direct line of sight. Anywhere else is dangerous.

Damian will eventually start to suspect the safety of your school…The teachers probably don’t know how to defend you from rogues. Heck! Hey probably don’t even care for your safety! His mind ruminates on the topic for a while, until he decides to let you be homeschooled. He asks around to see if there’re any good private teachers whom he can trust, but there aren’t. None of the people he interviews ever fit his standards: One is too lax, the other too strict, one isn’t clever enough and a fourth doesn’t seem loyal enough. It’s next to impossible to fill out all the demands that the green-eyed Wayne sets up, but there’s one man whom Damian would trust with your education and safety. Bruce… If we’re all being honest, he’s probably a better teacher in all subjects than those who actually studied for the position. It’s actually Bruce’s own idea that he’ll be the one tutoring you, he can work for Wayne enterprises at home, and teach you at the same time, it’s great bonding, and Bruce enjoys your youthful presence so much. It’s a win-win situation for both men… Of course, this will also mean that you’ll become entirely isolated from anyone that isn’t Damian approved. Your social circles are suddenly limited to a bunch of adults, most of whom are vigilantes, hell-bent on keeping others safe… This has the added side-effect of depriving you of anyone who might support your suspicions, should you sound the alarm as Damian puts up more and more safety protocols to keep you out of harm's way.   

With no one else but the family, you become entirely submerged in the vigilante culture and social circles, as you train to become the new Robin. The only people you’ll see on a regular basis will be Damian, grandpa Bruce, uncle Jon and uncle Tim. Perhaps great uncle Clark will semi-regularly swing by with great aunt Lois, but that’s rare, Bruce usually goes to them. You may notice yourself becoming quite dependent on Damian and Bruce’s company and attempt to rebel, this doesn’t fly with Damian. He loves you, but he’s not the most patient of people. He will have no qualms about locking you in your room for hours or even days, only letting you out to do your Robin training.

It’ll take a long time for Damian to let you become a true Robin, he wants to be sure that you’ll be safe and have the skills to defend yourself fully. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you had already reached the age of 18 before you got to actually patrol the city, not that this would change anything, Damian would either pay someone to fake your birth certificate so that you were still his legal ward on paper or maybe just refuse to let you have any more freedom, even if you protest… at that point, he would have had years to manipulate you into being entirely loyal to the family and more specifically him, so I doubt that it’d be a real problem.

Regardless, when he does bestow upon you the right to become Robin, it’ll be the end of a long road. He’ll invite everyone in your immediate social circle to come and celebrate, even some of Bruce’s old colleagues like Hal Gordan and Barry Allen might show up, it’s a big party and it’s all about you. Any fancy dresses or suits you want? it’s yours! The entire house will be decorated in your favourite colours and all your favourite food will be served! At the end of the evening, everyone will be gathered in one of the manor’s large living rooms, and Damian will present you with your very own Robin suit. You’ll be surprised to find that it’s a real-life replica of the ones you had drawn as a child. If you wonder how he got them, Damian will simply say he had found them in the rubbish the day you moved in and he had thought it a shame to throw them out… really he had stolen the drawing from you back when he was still stalking you, having collected the perfect materials throughout your years of training, it had sometimes been a struggle to find fabric that both matched your idea of the costume as well as being practical in a field setting, but he had managed it, and now you had the perfect costume, just the way you’d always wanted it.

Damian is overprotective of you the first many times that you’re out as Robin, to the point where he barely lets you fight, out of fear that you might get hurt. But slowly and with the reassurances of both Tim, Jon and Bruce, he’ll let you fight on your own. His eyes will still always find your form the second he hears a grunt coming from your direction, but he’ll let you handle it unless he deems the situation too dangerous… which he does quite often…

Life will be fine as long as you’re by his side, he’s your Batman and you’re his Robin, and Gotham is delighted by the return of the traffic-cone-themed sidekick. Bruce will look upon you and Damian fondly, and be reminded of good-old times when that was him and Dick, or the beginning of him and Jason… Back before it all got so complicated… which is ironic because the emotions involved in you and Damian’s Batman/Robin partnership are way more complicated, dark and obsessive than any of Bruce’s ever were.

You might wonder why Bruce never opposes Damian’s obvious yandere tendencies, but, in truth, Bruce refuses to see them. After all his sons, (except Damian), moved out, he got too old to be Batman, Alfred died and his entire life practically had to be narrowed down to Wayne Enterprises and occasional visits from his boys, (most of whom he was estranged from), Bruce had lost his spark, his reason to wake up in the morning. However, when you arrived, an entirely new chapter of his life opened up. He no longer felt like he was riding through the last fourth of his life without any meaning. No, with you there, he now had the responsibilities of a grandfather! He had someone to live for and to tell his near-endless anecdotes to! Your sudden appearance in his life saved him, and as such, he couldn’t even begin to let himself see the cracks in the happy facade he depended on to keep his life going. To him, you were all a happy and healthy family, three generations: Father, son and grandchild. And no one could take that away from him, he refused.

As you grow up, still living with Damian and Bruce, switching between the two identities of Robin and y/n, the wealthy socialite, adopted by Damian Wayne, you might start to consider whether you should create something of your own, instead of just living a life that Damian created for you. You might look at photos of the old Teen Titans and Young Justice, all hung throughout the halls of Wayne manor, and think to yourself, “maybe I could do something like that too”.

If you verbalise this idea to Damian, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes widening with fear and rage. “You want to leave us?! After everything we’ve done for you?!” You can try your best to explain that you just want to become your own person, but Damian will hear non of it. He becomes frantic and angry, making you sit and listen to him rant about how dangerous it can be for a bunch of sidekicks, not even fully-fledged heroes, to just team up and battle it out. He’ll list to you all the most horrific incidents that happened in both Teen Titans and Young Justice, the people that got permanently, the people that got seriously maimed and those who died horrifically. At the end of his hours-long rant, he’d have instilled sufficient anxiety within you to turn you off to that idea.

After your suggestion, though, Damian might realise that you could be in need of a friend around your age. He doesn’t like the idea, a mix of both jealousy and the fear that they won’t protect you makes him reluctant to seek out some of the other sidekicks, but for you and your mental well-being, he’ll do anything. So he finds a sidekick, it could be Jon’s… actually, it’s most likely Jon’s sidekick, I can’t really see him trusting anyone else. But he’ll go up to them and practically demand that they befriend you. If they’re anything like Jon, and I can imagine that they are, they’ll accept with a big smile.

You may have a hard time befriending Jon’s sidekick, especially if your personalities aren’t compatible, however, they’re the only other person around your age you have, so you’ll have to make do. Eventually becoming best friends, even if you can’t stand them.

Any other need you could possibly have, Damian will always find a way to satiate it without ever giving you your freedom. It’ll be the most infuriating game of pulling rope, he’ll always give in to your demands, but in a way that just further cements your inability to escape him.

Damian will never let you go, not as long as he lives. If you try to get married… hah! No. Not happening. If you wanna go to university, he’ll hire tutors to come to your home. You’re never escaping and Damian isn’t coy about showing his possessiveness and platonic obsession with you. You’re his kid, even if you refuse. Really, you should have just stayed home that fateful night when you met, because now you’re stuck as Damian’s Robin, forever.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it!

I'm really sorry that these take so long to come out lately, but I have my final exams in a little over a month, (they start on the 1st of May), so I'm in a pretty tight spot for time recently, I'll obviously become more productive when they're all done, and I do also have another full one shot of Damian in the works. For the anon who requested this, I would just like to say, you had a wonderful idea, and I hope I did it justice, it didn't really go where I had originally intended it to, but I hope that this is what you might've preferred either way.

[plutopitou]

◇ Haven’t I given enough?

keigo takami | hawks x female reader

genre: nsfw smut, angst

Keigo struggles to find a way to cope from being forced to be a trained soldier by the hero commission. Luckily you have a few screws lose and are more than willing to be that beacon of hope, no matter the cost. | 18+ MDNI

word count: 4.3k

warnings: he's mean (◞‸◟) but hot to me, toxic relationship,? VERY rough sex, smut, dub/con, keigo has issues- so does reader and they are obsessed with eachother -oop degradation (not for the lighthearted), dumbification, overstim

this is my first post on here and i haven't written in a long time so bare with me :) i think it came out nice tho <3

Keigo has always had the commission on his back. Being raised inside of a facility that is cut throat and grabs you by the hair and force feeds you, not because they have to- but because they can. To express their own dominance like a cat baring their claws or a bird flexing their wings to show off how big they are. Poor little Keigo didn’t have a choice in the matter either, being so young he already knew if you disobey authority you have your work cut out for you.

He was always a people pleaser from day one. Daily motivation sourcing from the look of admiration by the adults, impressed by his quirk and drive for success. But the look was not admiration, but instead it was insulting. They never seemed to be pleased by his hard work and it pricked Keigo in his head constantly.

“You’re not working hard enough,” and “you can do better” they said.

Day after day his big doe eyes became heavier and heavier until they were keen enough to cut. There wasn’t a way to say “no” that didn’t end up in some type of penalty, ultimately equating the word “no” as something negative and taking a life as something positive, because who was there to tell him what was going on was bad and not right?

A baby bird only eats whatever its mother feeds them, whether thats food or garbage.

After Keigo’s first kill as a pre-teen, he hunched over and threw up at the mental anguish of being groomed to be a killing machine. It was one person after the other being a perfect sacrifice to perfect his skill, not at will but from demand. Keigo began to revel in the superiority of finally having the upper hand against someone, finally feeling powerful and knowing his own skill set by developing his quirk to be the best in the game.

Overtime he liked seeing the redness of blood camouflage with the tips of his red feathers and the string of apologies flowing from someone’s mouth, begging to spare their life. He got off on the picture of him standing big and tall on top of their weakened body.

But it was only fulfilling in the beginning.

He has bright vermilion wings with sharp eyes to match and it was not something you could easily look away from. It is a type of stare he developed over time that was molded to make you crack under pressure and confess anything. A type of stare that is enough to make you cry and plead a sorry even if you didn’t know what you were sorry for. A look that is masked underneath his laid back exterior he shows to the public.

There is a reason why he’s number two.

To the public it’s just Hawks, the number two hero, a man that helps elderly women cross the street and gladly holds onto your groceries with one of his delicate but strong feathers so you don’t feel inconvenienced. So you can experience a better day. He will gladly take a couple scratches and lose a couple quills for humanity so they can go home to their family and enjoy their night. But whispers travel and the villains know exactly what he is that he conceals, which makes his patrols smooth sailing. He is type of person the worst people warn to never cross paths with.

He is the glorified punching bag of society that is painted in expensive jewelry with a special title made just for him: a Hero.

But who gets to make the number two hero’s day better?

It’s not the little kids sprinting to him, looking up from his knees with bright eyes begging for an autograph. It was him pinching your nose, feeling your body trying to gasp for air while he rapidly fucks your throat, taking it all for himself.

It was never the men and women with tears in their eyes giving their thanks for saving their life. It was always the tears springing from the swift slap to your face trying to squeeze out one more apology from your stupid mouth for not listening to him.

And it is definitely not the plentiful of stupid fucking awards given to him at hero galas by the committee he is forced to accept to keep his image pure. Because is there anything actually fully pure about hero work?

Keigo felt himself slowly starting to lose his stability in the center of chaos. The feeling of murder is so short lived- he needed more than that. He didn’t like how long he had to wait until the commission had him go on another undercover expedition. That was always the rule by them: he can never kill unless authorized.

Society already has their special person to tear down and build back up as they pleased, who was going to be Keigo’s?

You, of course.

You were so willing to give up everything you had ever owned, have and thought of for the slight chance of his attention. Such a little stalker for Keigo, trying to figure out his patrol schedule just so you can see him work with a charming smile on his face. Reading fanfiction about him on websites dedicated to his heroics, touching yourself at night thinking about his sweet whispers telling you how beautiful and good you are for him.

You just knew he was such a kind and humble man in person like he executed himself on TV. You had seen over the years of heroes’ facade falling down, exposing themselves for being the corrupt and selfish person everyone had hoped they weren’t. But no, not Keigo, being the number two hero and being so young yet not much older than you, you saw him from a different light.

That is why when you willingly let yourself fall backwards down a 20 story building, you did not do it out of fear and intention of taking your own life. You did it out of joy and the safety of knowing he would be right there to catch you- because he is a hero.

For the seconds it lasted, it felt nice to flow through the sky and feel weightless. As the gravity of the earth clutches onto your body and forcefully pulls you down to your demise, it somehow did it softer than cutting a knife through butter. You let go of the breath you had been holding when you are swept up mid-air into a pair of strong arms grasping your body into his warmth. He smelled like fresh air and linen with a puff of mint coming from his lips. You peel open your eyes to see him in his glory, doing what he does best- saving people. The sun setting right behind him giving his body a glow of authority like a god. Your god.

Hawks gets you back to the ground and helps you stand still with a small comforting smile. “Take this as a sign, sweetness. Go home.” He says like its another day and pats your hair in place before turning ready to take his leave. His touch leaving a tingle from your head down to your back, you wished to have his hands on you forever.

“Wait!” You yell for him. Pulling out the letter you had handwritten for him days earlier, a confession letter. You shyly run up to hand it to him and take in his look of confusion before pushes up his visor and reads the front, ‘To Hawks ♡’.

Inside the letter was years worth of admiration and pent up love you have for what other people consider a stranger. But Hawks was no stranger to you. It only took a couple days to plan your meeting with him because you had full confidence he will be there when you fell, as it was meant to be. It was a love letter confessing you will leave everything behind for him, no matter what it took you wanted to be there to catch him if he fell too, even if you didn’t think you had the strength to keep him up. You would do anything he asked without question because he’s such a great person and deserves it the most.

‘I will lie for you, die for you, and kill for you, even if you don’t love me back. A hero needs a hero, too.’

Keigo thought it was almost too perfect.

His first thought, “this has to be some type of trick?” maybe the commission trying some sort of test on him as an evaluation? But when he looks into your dazed eyes, he knew. They were practically swirling with a heart in the middle. He thought there was no way someone has a screw loose enough to launch themselves to death in the smallest chance in being caught to give a little letter to their rescuer with a smile.

He has seen crazies before, not to this extent but close. Being in the work force for years now, his fanbase has exponentially grown as he climbed up the rankings. His female fanbase having the most growth, it was never surprising to come back to his agency with his interns bringing in a couple large boxes a week worth of love letters filled with undergarments, perfume, gifts or even money. Keigo of course has had his fair share of women in the past, none ever lasting as long because they couldn’t handle what he had to give. And what he had to give left these women bruised, crying and begging for more even if they didn’t have any more space left to take.

Your eyes, no matter the shape, still hold a roundness of naivety and innocence. A type of innocence that is special, one you dont see in a lot of people. But you have that factor. You have it all, and he wanted to be the one to take it away and give it back, force it to you.

Keigo almost wanted to laugh right in your face.

You watch as he pulls his visor back down with a small side grin, his shiny leather gloves putting the letter in his jacket pocket to keep it safe. “I’ll see you, alright, Birdy?” Pushing his wild, blonde hair back, Hawks gives you one last glance with golden eyes before taking off, the flap from his big wings pushing your hair back, leaving you alone as the sun finally sets.

.

.

.

But how could you have ever known?

Hawks didnt waste any time finding you again and getting ready to break you in. He loves the idea of it; a cute girl like you, so needy and desperate for him to go as far as jump off a building in the risk of him catching you. Because to you he was the perfect man on paper, on TV, and in person. You read everything there was to know about him online, you read every article, watched every single interview from the beginning to present of his career, there weren’t any warning signs that would have prepared you for who he was.

You wondered if his smile while being a hero was fake, if it was practiced beforehand to make sure there weren’t any marks for people to suspect. Since you’ve known him, the only time you’ve seen him smile with authenticity is when he’s crouched over your completely fucked out body, you still lowly whining how you can take more when you can’t even lift a finger.

How could a hero ever begin to act like this?

“You couldn’t have known” he murmurs against the back of your ear. His cruel and sadistic nature was intense, his words were pitched at you so fast, you couldn’t fully comprehend what he was saying.

Not through how much you couldn’t breathe with him fucking your throat with his index and pointer finger. His favorite part of your body was your throat, anatomically it’s the most vulnerable but so soft to the touch, so easy to control your life source and take it away if he wanted to.

Keigo knew what you were the moment you locked eyes with him and gave him that silly little envelope with confidence.

Naive.

A pretty, stupid little fan that didn’t know any better, a girl who trusted strangers and was so willing to throw away her life away for a man before it even started. The first time he fucked you he felt himself getting hard just beginning to think of all the things he can do to you, looking at you like you were a new play set and didn’t know where to start first.

“Aw, look at you.. my precious baby can’t breathe?” he coos, “Yeah you can, c’mon try harder..” Keigo fucks your throat with more swiftly, his fingers squelching from the pile up of saliva in your mouth. You’re desperately pawing onto his forearm trying to stabilize yourself against his front. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach is overwhelming and every push into your mouth you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt so small against him, so vulnerable, thrashing your hips against his cock trying to get away from the faint massage against your bladder and pussy from his other hand, trying to push you over the edge.

Keigo loves you like this, he loves being the one to restrict you. He knows exactly how you like it, he knows you like to pretend you don’t, feigning innocence like you always do when in reality you’re just a little bitch desperately trying to get more and more from him like every body else.

You begin to choke on his fingers, gagging as they dig themselves in your throat trying to fuck with you, and you can hear Keigo’s smug attitude, “Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right..” he groans out.

He finally pulls his fingers out your throat when he thinks you’re about to throw up and you hunch over gasping for any air you can catch, coughing with spittle dripping down your chin. Keigo holds you by your mid section keeping you close and pulling your head back to his chest. You want to act out, you want to fight back and hit him, slap him in any way you can because you love the fight, you live for riling him up until he finally snaps and yells at you, insulting your morality and fucking you in the process.

You can’t get any words out, your mind feels like a foggy and cloudy afternoon, still trying to catch your breath and Keigo playfully taps your cheek with his hand still covered in your own spit. “On your back.”

However you want to stay and prolong this moment as much as you can. Your body already feels weak like jelly and you want it to feel weaker. You barely have the strength to turn around and sit face to face with him, completely disobeying his words.

“Kei.. I want to stay up here.” You sigh into his collarbone, wrapping your arms around his sides, teasingly grinding your pussy onto this bare cock. You just wanted to stay by him, so close to his handsome face so you can kiss him- feeling his light stubble graze your cheek whenever you wanted. But he knows that glint in your eye. You look up to see that gaze. That special one perfected to make you crack under pressure and profusely apologize. It was enough to make your stomach tie knots.

Since Keigo was a little boy, he suffered with imposter syndrome and never felt a sense of fulfillment or accomplishment until he took a look at everyone else and saw how much better he was.

How he was only 18 at the time he started his career and a person that was a hero for decades could never compare to his mental resilience and physical expertise. He always felt inferior until it dolled on him that Japanese society was counting on him to feel safe. Keigo wanted to take back his sense of inferiority he developed as a kid and inflict it back wherever he could. Fortunately, there just so happened to be a pretty girl who was oh, so willing to let him.

No, she didn’t understand everything he had to go through to get where he was now, she would never get it. She doesn’t have to kill people to survive, she doesn’t have to live with the knowledge that millions of people count on her to live a normal life so they stripped her of her own.

She can live her life making mistakes without care, but if Keigo ever did, it’s blood on his hands. He is blamed for it all. She won’t ever have to deal with that.

But at least he can make her feel it.

“You wanna fuck with me, huh?”

You see his jaw tick in anger and his closed grin does nothing to cover it up but make it worse. He snaps.

You can almost feel his anger wash over you and it feeds you the energy you need to take what he’s gonna give you whether you like it or not, and you always like it. You pull back to try and console him. “Kei..”

Keigo quickly grips your jaw with force, smile gone and pulls you close. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He shakes you. “Huh? You like this shit don’t you?” He locks eyes with you searching for an answer, mocking how pathetic you look. “Hmm? Does it make you feel good, baby? Letting me manhandle you, knowing I’m gonna use your body however I want to?” You puff out a little whine in response to his accusation.

He quickly lets go and pushes your head back onto the bed, forcibly turning your body around. Pulling on the roots of your hair he pulls you up holding onto the softness of your neck after pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Remember this, birdy, this is for me. This is all so I feel good..” he pants against your neck teasing your folds feeing your legs twitch at every graze of his fingers. “Such a pathetic little bitch letting me treat you like this, throwing away your life for me just to get fucked like you don’t matter..”

That is what you did, isn’t it? You always had a choice after you stupidly jumped off a 20 story building. He showed you exactly who he was and still, you ended up at his mercy, crying for more of his callous treatment because you can’t get enough.

You sniffle and whine at the intense pleasure caused by his rudeness. You pant as his calloused fingers ravage their way down to your opening, your pussy anticipating Keigo just fully shoving it inside you. “Kei.. I’m sorry. Please, please, make me feel good. I’ll be good I swe-“

He swiftly swats the side of your face, breath hitching at the surprise, your cheek tingling from the sensation leaving you lovingly lightheaded. You shut up and take whatever he has to give you with nothing less a smile on your face. You wish he’d just shove his cock anywhere he pleases just so he can forgive you, just so you can hear that sweet rumble of praise from how good you are for him. Because Keigo’s approval of you is just as good as his degradation, both are enough to make you cry out of joy.

More tears follow the last, not because it hurt but the desperation for any part of him to be inside of you kills you inside, you’d die for it, and he knows that.

He stiffles a cruel laugh. “Aw, you cryin’? Don’t start crying now, you’ll turn me on too much..” After so much anguish he pushes his fingers inside of you, mercilessly going in and out, not giving you time to prepare. You yelp and cry inadvertently trying to crawl away from how overstimulating it feels, yet you just fall chest down ass up onto the plush bed, holding onto his freehand by your head like a clutch.

The only sound in the room coming from your drooling pussy squelching over and over, each jab drenching and pulling his fingers inside even more. Keigo curses at how warm you are, he can feel it. He knows exactly how your masochistic body likes to operate. Purposely taunting and arousing him until he’s forced to jackrabbit the fuck out your pussy until you pass out and still continue- fucking your passed out body till he sees creamy white spill out, moaning while forcing every drop of cum he has left right in your pretty womb with a nice low groan of pleasure. You both know you don’t have to say it to want it.

The feeling is so intense you’re just a babbling mess- no pure or smart thoughts, just mumbling out of pleasure to mumble. Your eyes are limp and dazed looking at the dimmed sky from the window, gripping onto Keigo’s wrist next to your head as if the bed will swallow you whole if you let go. You sense that potent feeling of an orgasm about to let loose, your babbles become load moans. The sound of your sloppiness getting louder with your voice. Keigo grazes his sight down your sheen body and curses as he finally pulls his hand out your sloppy pussy, leaving strings of your arousal. He can feel how agonizingly hard his cock is just from touching you, tip leaking white and ready to give to his sweet, bumbling girl.

He drips down spit to your pussy for good measure and looks back at your head to see you giving him the most loving look he’s ever seen in his life.

Keigo would never admit it, but it’s the first time he’s ever received and reciprocated such an intimate gaze. He puffs a nice low groan, looking down biting his lip as he finally pushes himself into your warmth, watching you slowly swallow him with white all the way up to the base of his big cock.

“That’s right sweet girl, I know you want it, I know your whore pussy wants it so bad- let me give it to you..” he leans down and grips your neck with a threatening squeeze, “This is all you’re good for,” he lowly hums, hissing as he gives another rigorous thrust. “You don’t wanna let me go n’ I won’t give us up, birdy, as long as you cum for me, alright? Let me use you- take care of you..” The feeling was almost too much for Keigo, he had never imagined someone that was good enough for him, that there was someone that could be a pillar in his completely fucked and screwed up life others curated for him.

After every thrust your pussy leaves a white ring and squelches as an invite to shove himself right back in even harder than the last, to make your response louder than the before.

Inbetween the moment you still find the energy to confess your love to him but can barely get halfway before he quickly covers your mouth and gives his last powerful thrusts into you. Huffing and groaning not being able to hold back how good you feel while you fuck him back in desperation like he knew you would, like you always do.

Practically drooling with whimpering sobs and tears behind his strong calloused hand, at last your selfish pussy grasps onto his cock as you orgasm feeling liquid slosh everywhere, your yelp into Keigo’s hand not able to contain yourself. Your hips desperately trying to get away as Keigo continues to fuck your overstimmed pussy in an effort to breed you like you deserve- moaning at you completely drenching yourself with him.

He feels himself coming to an end, holding back his hiccuped gasps- using his free hand to hold and massage your pelvis directly to his. “Oh fuck, baby, that’s right- take it, take it..” he gives you everything he has in exchange for all of you- cumming with a choked grunt in your neck, filling you with his seed like he promised he would, not letting a single drop escape.

Your whole body feels tingly with the last sprinkle of dopamine in your body, shuddering as you both collapse.

It didn’t take rocket science for you to know there was just something deeply unhinged about Keigo, as he’d probably say the same about you. You can tell intimacy was something very new to his life as he tried to shut you up before you can finish your sentence. However, you didn’t really mind much.

Keigo being your first in everything, you swore to yourself and him in that letter you will hold him up even if you didn’t think you had the strength to. You want to know more about his uprising, the stories he doesn’t tell in “exclusive” interviews- you are much more than a stupid fan and did not care if he thought of you as naive.

A slight wind chill comes through the crack in the window cooling off both your bodies. Keigo grips your jaw with need, pulling your head back to share his first kiss together filled with passion and little butterflies all over your body that leaves you wanting more. He lifts up an arm and gently pets back your hair and rubbing your head in the process letting you rest right next to him.

Even with how callous Keigo can get to leave you completely speechless and subdue you, you will take every slap, kiss, and word because the sick part of you wants it more than air itself. As for Keigo, he needed to find something he can tear and build back up, having no way to cope with the consistent pressure of the world and wanting a way out for a moment.

He loves to tear you down, but wants to keep you extra close and pay attention to every detail as he builds you back up,

to make you just as perfect as you were before.

Oh my gosh that’s it! My first story in over two years since my senior writing class haha. I hope you all enjoyed, feel free to let me know your thoughts or writing critiques- i always want to get better.

Please reblog and like, thank you ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

[prismaticpichu]

I'm craving a concept only you can deliver: Sephiroth comforting Zack during a personal crisis? What would that be like?

YESSS MY BEANS!!!! <333 I adore these kinds of scenarios with them 💙💚 You’ve come to the right place, my un-rotten friend! I shall do my best! <33

~

It happened on Angeal’s birthday.

Crumpled on the floor; fists clenched into veiny, trembling balls of cement; thin pillars of candlelight quivering and flickering against the apartment’s gloom, deserted atop the vanilla terrain of an abandoned birthday cake as, like a feather, left to the mercy of even the slightest gust of wind, too weightless to resist the current, their fragile flames bent to the mercy of wherever the wintry draft whispering through the apartment pulled them.

This was the state Sephiroth found Zack in.

At first, he almost left. Sincerely (and he had trouble lying), that was what he wanted to do. Leave the document, leave a pen, leave a note explaining that it required his signature—and then leave without saying a word. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to do just that. Go, leave, you don’t know what to do… And when he stayed, when he didn’t budge, the reins tugged harder: GO… now! Leave! You don’t know what to say…!

And it was true: he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what in that moment, standing in an ajar door, cracked open only a fissure, cracked open only after three unanswered knocks, watching his lieutenant sob unrhytmically into his knees, what he could possibly do. Zack didn’t even seem to notice his presence—oblivious to the gauzy belt of light stretching across the apartment, unaware of the two conflicted emeralds peering inconspicuously into his darkened quarters. And the sheer frequency of his rattling breath masked any groan or creak that his weight against the door would produce.

Yet…

For every tug and lash of the reins in his mind, demanding him to go there was an anchor thrown over the hulls of his heart and keeping him rooted in place. Don’t go, don’t leave… And as he tried to uncomfortably wriggle out of its grasp, it would beat louder in his chest: Don’t leave him… Please, don’t go. Don’t abandon him. Don’t you understand why he is hurting…?

The man’s eyes had seemed to flicker.

Oh… he understood. He understood good and well. He, too, had also felt a toxically-stifling cloud billow in the wake of his thoughts throughout the day. From the moment he woke up, he knew what day it was. Angeal would be turning 26 today. Had he still been with him, he would have added another year to his life, another block of wisdom to stack atop the castle of what seemed to be the spirit of an elderly father encased inside the bones of a young adult. He would have been here to celebrate that growth. He would have been here to honor himself.

Admittedly, it hadn’t occurred to him how Zack may be feeling. Perhaps that was because he had swallowed every last bit of pain today like a gallon of vinegar—or maybe it was because he had blindly assumed that Zack would be finding a way to resist the same acid. Clearly, he had tried to do something to cope with it. Only it was just as clear that he ended up buckling under the leaden pressure that had been building throughout the day—and now he had cracked, imploded, left broken and bent on the cold hard floor of his home away fro—

“Monster…”

And it was that word, choked viscously from the depths of Zack’s throat, cold and hard as the floor he lay crumbled upon, that made Sephiroth stay.

He pushed open the door, golden light dilating across the room.

“…Zack?”

The First’s head shot up from his knees—blue eyes sleek and wet with a boil of burning tears, swollen cheeks vaguely catching the light like tiny stones glistening against shallow water, the Mako-fueled gems narrowing slightly yet unclear if it was out of annoyance or surprise or an attempt to see better amid the darkness.

Sephiroth took a step closer.

“What are you doing here?” Zack bit out then.

Sharp, serrated, rancorous.

Sephiroth didn’t move any closer.

“…You’re upset,” he observed. Stated, more like—considering the sheer lack of emotion he managed to gouge of the two simple words, as if a straight and businesslike approach was the only compromise his mind could compromise for intervening.

Immediately, Zack wiped at his eyes.

“…Yeah?” His response was just as emotionless. “What about it?”

Cold, bitter, and edging on venomous. The tone admittedly stung Sephiroth—pierced something in his heart that he didn’t know was there, like an inconspicuous crack in the mortar where a tender swathe of his heart was beating. He knew the boy was upset; he wasn’t that blind, nor was he that ignorant. But it was hurtful nonetheless. Their last interactions didn’t seem to have this poison—unless, of course, it had been festering underneath, had been hiding under his tongue as he warmly saluted goodbye on that warm Junon evening by the dock.

I’ll hold you to that!

All again, Sephiroth’s eyes seemed to flicker.

“…I know you miss him, Zack,” he said, attempting to defrost as much cold professionalism from his voice as he could. “I know it’s—“

Whatever he said, it was the wrong thing.

Zack’s eyes began boiling with tears once more. Only this time, the mist seemed to be daggerous—acidic, sharp, spearlike—and there was no ambiguity anymore as to what the narrowing of his bloodshot eyes signified.

And he erupted.

“GET OUT!” Zack’s voice exploded around the den like a deadly, roaring echo. “GET OUT!”

Sephiroth took several steps back.

“Zack…—“

“I SAID GET OUT!” He threw his arm toward the door in jagged emphasis.

“Zackary.”

“SHUT UP AND GET THE HELL OUT!”

He had never seen Zack in such a state. By all means, he knew the young First wasn’t as happy and cheerful as he masqueraded for the rest of the world to see. That much he knew, that much he had learned, as someone who wore an oppositely-temperatured mask himself. But that didn’t make the degree of his SOLDIER’s temper right now any less unsettling. It didn’t make it any less painful.

It didn’t make it any less concerning.

And maybe that was why, against the boy’s blazing demand for him to leave, Sephiroth chose to stay.

“…You’re upset, Zack…” he stated again, only his voice had completely thawed. Softening his eyes, steeling his resolve, the man took another step forward. “You’re upset. You’re grieving. I know how you—“

“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT!” Zack’s throat was beginning to close as he bellowed. And then, as if having suppressed the poison for so long: “You weren’t THERE, were you?! No! I don’t THINK SO! I was THERE, Sephiroth! I had to DO IT! Do you know that? Do you know that’s why he’s DEAD! It’s because of ME! ME, DAMNIT! I killed him! I… I killed him. Oh Gaia… Oh Gaia… I did it… oh man… I did it… I killed him, Sephiroth… I killed him…”

And then he was crumpling back to the floor, his voice slowly trickling away like tendrils of smoke from an inferno.

“I’m… I��ma monster…”

Sephiroth watched the broken SOLDIER, his mouth hanging ajar. Hardly even breathing. His chest was twisted at such an angle that he was certain he would snap at any moment, like a feeble twig, his lungs on the verge of imploding in on themselves and shutting down the entirety of his shock-drugged body. Swells of different emotions were raging inside him at such a speed him that, like roaring rapids during a storm, flowed too fast and viciously for him to grasp and even begin to digest. If all simply crashed against him, tumultuous and unrelenting. Almost suffocating. Paralyzing.

He was numb.

The only thing to stay afloat, echoing clearly in his ears, as if it was the only thing his mind could seem to hear, as if it was louder than anything else despite being the softest thing mumbled, was the same unyielding word that had drawn him into the apartment to begin with. Raw and cold, but no longer venomous—as if the poison had been wrung out of it, leaving only a deadly and poised blade behind, and was now balancing under Zack’s chin, the spear digging into his pulse and aimed only to harm himself.

Even in his numb and drugged state, it drove him to speak again.

“No…” Sephiroth vaguely shook his head, his voice edging on a whisper. “That’s not true.”

Slowly, Zack lifted his chin once more, the shadows of torrents now glistening on his reddened cheeks. His incision shone bright in their wake, shimmering in a rich and ghostly red—still to heal, still raw, and probably burning like acid into the deepest layers of his skin.

It made Sephiroth’s chest snap.

Gingerly, as if there was glass strewn about the floor, Sephiroth took another delicate step forward. He then took another step after that, and then another step after that, gradually closing the distance between them until only a tiny creek of wooden floor separated them. His shadow looming over the distraught teen, he carefully bent down until he their gazes were level: green eyes staring into blue, glistening sapphires mirroring the small shimmers of light radiating from the tame, softened emeralds.

And Sephiroth spoke again.

“You are not a monster…” The man’s voice had turned to porcelain, gazing deeply into those anguished azure eyes. “Don’t ever say that. Zack.”

A snuffle, a choke, and a thin trickle of tears bled through Zack’s eyes as he strained them shut.

“…You weren’t even there,” he whispered. “You don’t know what happened.”

There was a moment, a lull, where Sephiroth questioned it he should say what he wanted to say next. His lips briefly hovered, floating in the painful purgatory of uncertainty and obligation. Of righteousness and potential regret. Of fear and endangered friendship.

But just like the candles, bent only by a single wintry draft, a single pained beat of his heart opened them wide enough to speak.

“Then tell me.”

Silence, then Zack let out another choke.

“…I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll hate me.”

“No… no I won’t.”

“Yes you will! You would want me dead.”

“Don’t ever say that.”

“You will though… You’re gonna hate me…” He sucked in his breath, choked again, lowering his chin back into his knees. “I don’t want you to hate me…”

Never had Sephiroth’s chest ached so fiercely.

“Zack…. Zackary. Look at me. Please.”

It took a beat, a strained one, but Zack eventually did.

And Sephiroth held him steady in his gaze.

“You are all I have left, Zack. You are my… last friend. My only friend. So, please… believe me. There is nothing that will ever make me hate you. Nothing at all.”

He reached out then, hesitant, but not enough to stop him from gripping his teary friend’s shoulder.

He squeezed.

“It’s alright…” Sephiroth said gently, delicately. “Tell me what happened.”

And so Zack did. Every detail, every cry and shout and plea for his mentor to stop the madness—he retold it all. He told of finding Angeal in the bathhouse; he told of the brief swell of hope he felt; he told of how the hope was violently extinguished; he told of the way their cherished friend mutated, how he was forced to fight him, how he was forced to take the blade and stab it through the beast’s heart after it nearly tore his face agape; he told of crumbling on the ground after the deed was done, looking over his mentor’s blooded face, reverted back to a human, and just how monstrous he himself had felt.

By the time Zack was done, the dam had completely splintered, and he was leaning so far that he was on the verge of the falling over.

So, when he did, Sephiroth caught him.

He wrapped his arms around the boy as Zack collapsed into him, pulling Zack close against his chest and letting him cry. Letting him cry, letting him grieve, he held him steady, like an anchor rooting him to the ground, trying his best not to move as Zack rattled and quaked and lifted his own arms to wrap around him in turn, resting him chin against the bed of harmless spikes, holding him close, and then holding him even closer.

“Gaia… I killed him…”

“Shhh… He didn’t give you a choice.”

“He would be here, Seph… he would—“

“He left long ago, Zack. You know that.”

“I know… I…”

“It’s alright…. Shhh. It’s alright.”

“I—I miss him, Seph…”

“I know you do. I do too.”

And they stayed like that, side by side, in each other’s arms, until the candles on the cake went out.

[froody]

I hope I’m not bringing up bad memories but my cat is probably going to die very soon and I’m just wondering how on earth to cope with it. He’s my baby I’ve had him since I was 12 or so and idk what I’ll do without him. He’s orange and scrungly just like Tommy and his name is kitty because my family could never agree on any other name and I already miss him so much.

I’m still mourning Tommy. I don’t have all the answers. Her death was sudden so the circumstances were different than having an elderly pet in decline that you know you will lose soon. There is some advice, some I wish I had known and some I wish I could have practiced:

Know that the empty spot they left in your heart will remain empty. There will always be a place for them that wishes they were there and hurts for them. Slowly over time that place will become more of a shrine to their memory than the aching wound it will be at first.

Start thinking of funeral plans before they’re gone. I know this is morbid but it will be so helpful after the event. Start thinking about how you want to deal with your pet’s remains, if you want them cremated, buried, articulated, freeze dried etc. If you want to bury them, start looking for a spot, one of their favorite places or perhaps contact a pet cemetery in your area. If you want them cremated, look for pet crematories in the area and have the number written down. If you want their remains preserved, start setting aside money for it and looking for the place you want it done.

Consider an end of life photo shoot with them before they’re gone. If they still look how you want to remember them, that is. Get dressed up, have one last good day. Have a loved one take photos of you and your friend in a beautiful place. If your pet’s health is in decline in such a way that you don’t want to remember them looking the way they look now, consider making pawprints or other crafts.

Be patient with yourself after they’re gone but remember it is not a betrayal to love again. Think about opening your heart to another animal in need. Take your time it I have found an empty house is a horrible thing to live in and a new little friend helps you grieve the last one.

[soodoonimin]

Wade Wilson and the self:

So I’ve stated before I’m not Deadpool’s #1 fan BUT I am reading some of his comics alongside Wolvie's so I thought I’d give a character analysis a shot. This is going to be shorter than my Logan one because unfortunately I’m just not as in tune with the character, I’m super sorry but I hope it’s still good! :)

Some imagines are kind of graphic and gross so beware.

Dear Wade Wilson,

Who are you? No really who are you? Because as you may already know you’ve had many writers over the years, your character has changed drastically in the 33 years you’ve been ink on a page. So who are you?

Deadpool is an enigma, except for the fact that he isn’t. He both is and isn’t a good person. He’s someone who keeps a blind elderly woman hostage in his apartment and someone who talks teenagers down from the literal ledge. He is actually a pretty smart person depsite the million different ways he acts like a complete dumbass.

So here’s what I find kind of funny (sad) about Deadpool. He seems to also believe himself to be a monster (which is something we talked about with Logan) but the difference is between Logan and Deadpool is also where they’re the same and this little bit about him comes up a lot. See Deadpool had a little more of a fighting chance than Logan when it came to living a "normal" life but because of circumstances outside of his control he was walked down the path he currently finds himself on and when he actually realized where he was and what he was to people, he was utterly mortified by it.

People react to these kinds of things diffrently and that reaction isn't static, it can change over time. For Wade I think his general view on his situation is kind of mix of nihilistic and absurd. And he regularly toes the line between caring, not caring and doing whatever for the lols. (of course this depending on who writing him bc Wade does change a lot depending on the writing BUT I think that just fits so well with his character).

Wade uses humor to distract from his pain (both physical and emotional) but I also kind of think that him being annoying, him letting people hate him is just a way he punishes himself for just existing. It's easy and it requires very little work on his part and in a weird way it gives him an excuse to not care about the world.

Especially because he believes he's not really a person, because he believes he's a comic book character.

And so I have this HC about him and his 4th wall breaking abilities. See, I don't think the reason he's “crazy” is because of the torture of the Weapon X (or weapon plus or whatever) program or because of his cancer. I think Wade is crazy because when he finally "woke up" and saw what was had happened to his life, when he saw what he'd become and all the terrible things he did, I think that's what what broke him. Because I think that for all the terrible terrible things Wades does/has done he is still a good person to some extent, he still has a good heart and so imagine you're a kind person, who looks back one day and you see all the terrible things you've done. All the people killed. Everything. How do you cope with that exactly? Well if. you're Wade Wilson, I think first you start by adopting a world view that makes those realities easier to swallow and two I think you stop believing in reality.

I think him breaking the fourth wall is in a way him disassociating into our reality the same way many of us disassociate into his. That's how he's able to have that connections with us but because we're unable to respond to him and because he can't *actually* see us it does very little to comfort him.

What worse about this though is he doesn't really have much if any connection with the people around him. Like yes, he does have his daughter and his friends but the things is, its impossible for him to truly connect with those people in his life because he doesn't see himself as worth that love.

So specifically in the WW3 comic I think the reason he picks Logan as the person to help him is because he kind of already knows Logan doesn't like him BUT he can't help but feel this kind of kinship with the mutant and he know Logan is a genuinely good person and wouldn't just leave him to die. It's a little manipulative but he's desperate.

The thing is (especially in that comic) he doesn’t see how him and Logan are different.

See Logan’s “monster” is more or less, real and it's something he had no control over. His mutation (the very thing he fears) would have always come to disrupt his life, would have always made him a monster in the eyes of others if not himself and so in some ways, Logan was set up for failure at the start.

Wade on the other hand is different in that like all of us he made choices (that were yes heavily influenced by bad circumstance) and there is a possibility that had he his childhood been significantly better or not gotten diagnosed with cancer, he may have walked a less destructive path. The “monster” that he'd become might not haven't never existed because there isn't anything wrong with Wade and there isn't anything about Wade (that doesn't have to do with the Weapon X program) that people would have any reason to inherently hate.

As it stands though, he knows he’s done bad things and although he knows he can’t make up for them, he also doesn’t know how to forgive himself, I doubt he'd even want to if he knew how. In the WW3 comic he almost spells out that he feels like a lesser version of Wolverine because of how he got his abilities.

To him every other hero, from his childhood hero (Captain American) to his current totally best friend (Spider Man) or his other best friend (Nate Summer) are all just a reminder to him of how inadequate he will always be. What's funny to me about the his relationship with all three of these people. (despite the fact that they all make him feel the same kind of inadequacy) is how he treats them.

W/ Cap he treats him the way you might treat your idol. Serious and with respect.

W/ Spidy, he literally fawns over him, is practically in love with him, he's constantly looking after him and in a weird way seeks to be like him.

W/ Cable is where it's interesting because Wade almost never misses an opportunity to mock Cable. Never misses an opportunity to try to a blow to his ego despite the fact that they are technically friends.

What the difference?

W/ Cap it’s because exactly as I said before, that’s his hero. The man he idolizes and will forever wish he could be.

W/ Spidy its more interesting bc I think his obsession w/ Spider-Man is more to do with the fact that he envies him. He envies his (for lack of a better work) innocence. He is envies his moral convictions and he in some respects envies the life he imagines spidy must live. But instead of letting that envy turn him green I think he unconsciously channels into that obsessive behavior.

And W/ Cable, I think it has a a lot to do with the fact that Cable (like many) does call Wade out on his shit, it isn’t necessarily about kill but it’s seems like when Wade and Cable butt heads, it’s less black and white philosophy on the ethics of killing and more the morality of actions and inaction and what that means for the people involved (we’ll get there don’t worry).

So here's kind of where I'm going to go into a soft rant about heroes in the Marvel universe. I think the no killing rule is fine. I understand the idea, especially for heroes like Spider Man, why "no killing" is a rule one is inclined to follow. What I do often find very frustrating is the moral superiority that certain heroes take on when following that rule and how they apply that to their fellow crime fighters. Yes I know Wade is a nitrous mercenary and so he isn't always killing for "moral" reasons but when he takes that skill set into the hero business I do feel like he gets shit on more than he deserves idk, maybe my hate for Spider-Man supersedes my (relative) disinterest in Deadpool that I’m willing to defend some murder if it means spiting the web head.

Back on track…

So in the WW3 comic, I think the real reasons Wade's 'becoming' (or his attempt to be human as he believed it to be) failed is because in some respects Delta was right. Wade put too much stock into the idea that he and Wolverine were one and the same and the issue is, he was wrong. Of course, not because Wolverine is a monster but because Logan and Wade face a similar challenge, just on a different plane of existence.

Logan's challenges are all about accepting who he and seeing the good within himself, seeing that yes the monster he's scared of does exist and it does live under his skin but that monster isn’t him in any meaningful way.

Wade's problems are more in line that he can't see the good that already exists in himself. He can’t see that his will and desire to change puts him leagues ahead of where he thinks he is. See I think what some people tend to forget in the idea of healing is that you do need to be able to forgive yourself for whatever you did in the past. I think Wade doesn’t understand that just because the world may never see him as nothing more than a “overpriced mercenary” that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s all he is.

I think Wade failed in the WW3 comic (and I think the reason his character struggles so much with himself) is because he underestimates his own humanity. And in the WW3 comic specifically he expected a quick fix to his perceived problem and when nothing changed he was faced with the reality that most of us have to face at some point or another. That there is nothing wrong with us. We might have flaws, yeah everyone does but in our core there’s nothing “wrong” and when Wade was faced with that reality I think he understood it (especially considering the ending of this comic) but I wonder if he was a real person, would he be able to apply that lesson to himself? Who knows…

However I think for his character, a bit of his self-image struggles may also have to do with what he sees in the mirror (literally) and that means something because aside from adding to the tragedy of his character I think his scarred face says something about how the world sees him rather than how he sees himself.

Why do I think that? Well here’s this thing right. In the Spidey-Deadpool comics, Wade makes a deal with his love (Lady Death) and basically in order to save Spider Man he has to “pay a price” so here’s the thing. In the very next set of comics Wade’s scars are gone he looks normal and I’ve seen a lot of people interpret this normal look at his outside reflecting his inside and all that and like yes BUT. What I really don’t see most people talk about is that his wife (Shiklah) over the course of the comics stops finding his attractive and like yeah some of this is a result of him trying to be a good guy but there are also times when she directly tells him he looks disgusting even though he looks normal. So for one reason or another death made him look normal but as a direct result of this, he essentially sacrificed his marriage.

This gets even more confusing because when he's forced to kill Itsy Bitsy, he basically immediately goes back to looking kind of gross again even though this was another sacrifice he had to make. I think maybe the way that he looks (at least in that Spider Man run is more of a reflection of his conscience) I think in a weird way Death cleared his guilt and thus gave him his face back but when he was forced to kill again (no matter how justified) that guilt overwhelmed him and boom his back to looking that way again.

I don't know if he would know this directly but I think its very fitting with his character that his outward appearance has less to do with his actual culpability and more about how he feels about that situation because again Deadpool does a lot of shitty things but more or less for the right reasons but regardless he never feels good about any of it.

This is also funny though, because of his lack of self esteem and desperate desire to be seen as a good guy, he’ll do things that would undoubtedly put in him on the wrong side of history for the express purpose of feeling better about his actions.

Take him being on the side of the Super Human Registration Act during Civil War. I don’t doubt that he justifies his actions to himself by saying “those kids that died could have been my daughter” (because he does say this) but during his fight with Cable (see told you we’d come back to him) it isn’t his ideals that are being challenged. No, actually what was being called into question was his morality and the very thing (at the time), that he’d put a lot of his self worth stock into was shown to be extremely corrupt (and by his best friend no less). Wade is looking for anything and everything to grasp onto that isn’t himself that will give his life meaning. Even if it is a corrupt system, he’s willing to look the other way if gives him the feeling of being more than he think that he is and yet I don't think he realizes that that thing he's been looking for has been right in front of him for a while now.

Part of me wonders how Wade sees his relationship with Ellie. Because unlike Logan, his relationship with her isn’t strained because sees too much of himself in her, in fact from what I can tell they have a very loving relationship despite the fact that Wade doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of being Ellie’s dad. And kind of going back to the WW3 comic, what I find super interesting and very sad is how Logan and Wade are so similar in so many way but also so very different. Where Logan sees his (many) children and sees all the ways he's failed them , all the things wrong with himself, all the ways he fucked up and all the things that were taken from him, and thus he tries to distance himself from them in every way possible.

Wade sees Ellie and he see the one and only good thing about him and like a truly good parent he nurtures that brightness in her (not a diss on Logan's parenting btw but this about Wade lmao) and although he does keep his distance because of the nature of his work and the nature of himself he doesn’t alienate her from his life. In some weird way, I think the fact that Wade does keep his distance from Ellie in the way that he does actually makes their relationship stronger and I think it speaks deeply to the goodness of Wade that he tried to deny exists.

The way I read Wade Wilson is a representation of, no matter how badly we may fuck up in life, no matter how many mistakes we might make or how many times we might make those same mistakes, we should never give up on being better even if it means losing people along the way. And we should recognize that “being better” is not only hard but also that it isn’t always contingent on what others think of you. You’re always going to be annoying, or rude, or obnoxious or whatever in someone’s eyes for whatever reasons (and sometimes they might be right) but at the end of the day if you are kind and you care and know that you did the best you could then what more could the world ask from you?

[butchhazard]

my ex-gf and i peaked together but we were both libfems when we started dating. a few months into our relationship i got a job at a strip club as a waitress because a friend of mine was promoting it on her IG as good, easy money. my role consisted of wearing a sexy outfit with a corset and serving the customers drinks. i only lasted for 2 months but everything i saw and experienced there changed my life forever and led me to becoming an anti-porn feminist and eventually to completely peaking. every single demographic of male was there. young, old (like ELDERLY), white, black, rich, poor, disabled, athletic, ugly, handsome, local, tourist, etc. men would go in groups and tell me they were going to pay for everything in cash so their wives wouldn’t realize where they were. men would try to touch and kiss the strippers and waitresses and management barely did a thing about it. most of the strippers were between the ages of 18 and 20. there was an area upstairs reserved completely for prostitution. one man offered me $1,000 so i could go to his hotel and have sex with him and i spent the rest of my shift trying not to pass by his area. a different man once struck up a conversation with me about going to his place for breakfast while touching my ass and i was too nervous to do or say anything to him knowing management didn’t have my back. i once saw a man bring in his freshly 18-year old son and pay for a stripper to have sex with him. mind you i worked ON WEEKDAYS DURING THE DAY and it was always PACKED!!! heterosexual women would come in and treat us like absolute garbage and barely look at us in the face while we served them but obviously this was preferable to the men who were offering us money in exchange for sex. sometimes lesbians would come in too but they were usually older and would sit in the restaurant-type area that didn’t have view of the main stage. i was actually surprised that i wasn’t the only lesbian working there, a few waitresses and strippers were also lesbians and even had wives. even more surprising to me at the time, nearly every waitress or stripper there was actually an exceptionally intelligent and compassionate woman. they somehow managed to completely compartmentalize their personal lives from the job. they were usually drunk throughout the day. even drunk i couldn’t do it and i have no idea how any of them did. i wasn’t even a stripper, i was a fucking waitress and being sexualized in that way for 8 hours a day every day led me to having an emotional breakdown. because i identified as nonbinary at the time i projected all of my sadness and anger onto the fact that my coworkers weren’t calling me by my preferred name. isn’t that insane? i couldn’t even recognize what i was experiencing as a woman because i was using my special gender identity as a cope. i ended up breaking down sobbing to an older female employee there and telling her i couldn’t handle being looked at like a piece of meat anymore and that i was starting to feel like less of a person. she looked like she was about to start crying with me too! i quit the next day. this is a short and condensed version of my experience but i really saw some disgusting and gruesome shit. the girl who helped me get hired was a completely changed person the last time i interacted with her. i never want to step foot inside a strip club for the rest of my life.

[silverstormsxx]

ok so here is a collection of concepts that wouldn't be entirely in character but are still fun to think about that I came up with:

Dusttale: Eternal Slumber

So there's this type of serial killer called an: "Angel of Mercy"

To put it simply, an Angel of Mercy is a caregiver who kills those under their care as a form of "mercy," depending on how they view their victim's suffering, usually because of an illness of some sort. An example would be a doctor and an elderly patient.

So.. what if Sans, instead of killing everyone in order to get enough strength to kill the human, decides to kill everyone so that he can spare them from the pain of being killed over and over again in an endless cycle?

Let's just say that his mental health has deteriorated enough at this point that he views what he's doing as a noble deed because he has good intentions in mind so it's "different from what the human is doing!"

I imagine he'd be far more gentle with his victims than regular dusttale sans. He'd shush them to sleep as they slowly dust, telling them that it's all for the best and that it's time to rest now.. all while digging the bone deeper into their flesh.

In a way, he is an Angel - specifically, the one from the interpretation of The Prophecy that would liberate the monsters by killing them.

Now i can't help but think that this version of sans would wear a white robe and a cross necklace lol

Also imagine him singing "Ralsei's Lullaby [dark melody ver.]" Before killing someone lmao

Dusttale: LOG #8215

Yet another Dusttale concept woo!!

Dusttale but as a coping mechanism, sans starts looking at the world like one big experiment and the monsters as test subjects

LV is a measure of how detached you are from your victims, after all.

I'd imagine that if this were to be a game, sans would do different things every playthrough.

Killing toriel first instead of all the monsters in the ruins to see how it changes things. Introducing unforeseen variables like 'what if undyne was informed about the human sooner than usual?' and 'what if alphys actually got around to mettaton neo's defenses?'

Don't know how that would be achieved though.. maybe through FUN events?

Every time you see him, usually after stealing your kill, he would be quietly murmuring under his breath, jotting down notes in his notebook, saying things like: "..didn't know that would happen. cool. have to try that again sometime." Before walking away and disappearing, as if he were never there at all.

Undertale: Heart Shatter

Ok so what if undertale genocide run.. but instead of killing anyone, you turn them into the worst possible version of themselves and let their SOUL shatter all by itself

For ex: for sans, you would further his nihilistic point of view by resetting over and over again and purposefully lingering closer to him every time.. as if to confirm his suspicions. You would see him get noticeably more and more tired every time, forgetting his lines and overall seeing him grow more and more apathetic.. until it culminates in a moment where you tell him that you're never going to stop. That's it's no use for him to have any sort of hope left that you might leave this world alone. That he should just give up and accept that this pointless cycle will never end. That he will never get to bathe in the light of the sun, never get to see the stars for more than a few seconds before he wakes up in his bed again.

(You'd probably have to do sans first. You break him by doing pacifist runs repeatedly)

For toriel, you'd have to accept her offer of staying in the RUINS. You would have to spend time with her, bond with her. You would help her cook, pay close attention to her lessons, eat slices of delectable cinnamon-butterscotch pie, make flower crowns from the golden flowers that saved you from dying from the fall, brew cups of tea together.

Eventually, one day she tells you why the Underground hates humans so much. Why she lives in the RUINS. Why she protects the human children who fall down. Why she is so, so grateful that you didn't leave like the others did. That she will do her best to keep you safe and happy until the end of your days.

...then you leave the RUINS on that very night. Leaving her all alone, wondering what she did wrong. Why she can never seem to keep one child alive, no matter how hard she tries.

So yeah lol. Feel free to add onto these if you'd like

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Thinking about what each Yellowjackets survivor did with the settlement money from the crash (bc we all know they most likely got lawsuit money) and how it relates to how each character copes with trauma.

Shauna- Uses the money to buy Jeff his furniture store. Shauna is coping through denial. She thinks that if she fills her life with stable things (a working husband, a child, a house, a business) that she will become stable too. She’s trying to live a boring apple pie life in an attempt to deny her desire for the adrenaline and danger that living in the Wilderness gave her. You can see this in her demeanor, too. Shauna acts very sweet, innocent, and harmless, but in a actuality she’s hiding a darker, more unhinged side of herself.

Tai- Uses the money to fund her college education/political pursuits. Tai copes through drive and determination. She works and works and works so that she doesn’t have time to think. Taissa is acting out the life that she wanted before the crash. She keeps striving for success and accomplishment hoping that these things will make her happy, but as she says to Shauna, “none of those things felt real” to her.

Lottie - Uses the money to start her wellness center (cult). Lottie is coping through her spirituality, as she did in the Wilderness. She leans on the idea of forces outside of herself having a plan for her and those around her so that she can relinquish control. This allows Lottie to have faith that things will get better and that everything is happening for a reason even as she is going through intense trauma. Lottie feels at peace when she is using this faith to help others, which is why she starts her wellness center. And even though she at first attempted to focus her spirituality on holistic means rather than the supernatural, the Wilderness eventually creeped back in.

Van - Van uses the money to open up her VHS store. This shows that Van copes through living in the past. She shells out her own little corner where she can surround herself with things that made her happy before the crash and hide from the rest of the world. Similar to Tai, she’s trying to be who she was before the crash. Van surrounds herself with 90s memorabilia and all of the movies and music that she used to love so she doesn’t have to acknowledge that she’s not that person anymore.

Nat - Nat uses the money for drugs, traveling, and material possessions like cars and clothing. Nat is trying to fill a void within herself. She’s focused on what will make her feel okay in the present moment. Getting high or buying a fancy car or designer handbag that she could never afford in her childhood numbs the guilt and trauma for a moment, and when this numbness wears off, she seeks it out again and again because she doesn’t have a long-term solution. She lives as a transient using the money to move from motel to motel trying to escape herself and avoid creating any attachments because she feels that she destroys everyone she comes into contact with. Basically, Nat is focused solely on on what will get her through each day, as she had to do in the Wilderness and even before the crash living in an abusive home.

Travis - Similar to Natalie, Travis uses the money on drugs and isolation. Not much is known about adult Travis unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you feel about him), but we do know that he had a drug problem like Nat and fled to New Hampshire to try to hide away from everything. He isolated himself completely in an attempt to block out the world and reminders of what he did in the Wilderness.

Misty - Uses the money to fund her education and career in the nursing field. Misty is coping by making people need her, as she did with Ben and all of the Yellowjackets in the Wilderness. She craves being depended and relied on because this is the only way she has ever received acceptance from others. She becomes a nurse for the elderly because she knows this demographic will depend on her more than any other. Using her medical knowledge to help those in need made her feel loved in the Wilderness, and she is still chasing that feeling.

Anyways can you tell I think about these characters way too much?

[kit-williams]

Hello its Cuckoo.

Totally fine with waiting and I appreciate the update.

I will admit my last ask did slant a bit more romantic.

So I've brought full fluff with this. How I perceive legions react to receiving unconditional love and care from human(s) in the husbandry altered earth.

Disclaimer: I don't know all the successor chapters so I'm going broad strokes.

Baseline: All marines Chaos, Renegade or Loyal, Do feel displaced. They're all just some level between coping and thriving.

Blood Angels - Honestly not too bad. They were a decently kind legion before and they still are. There is worry about their previous location but also!! There's so much time for art now, and these humans don't venerate them as untouchable so they can actually be More social. Not to mention their humans are willing to aid in their dietary needs.

Rating: Doing crayon drawings with your bonded's youngling while dinner cooks. Life is good.

Imperial Fist - Coping to okay. The most important part of a fortress are the ones who built and man it. And they can't man their fortresses if they're not in the same bloody timeline as them! Still though, so much in need of fortification Here too.

Rating: Coming home to find your Imperial Fist turned your home into a seige proof fortress cause they got separation anxiety while you were at work. Hugs inside their panic room storm cellar are mandatory for the rest of the night.

Thousand Sons - What do you Mean no human here has magic!?!? Utterly baffled by the absence of Psychers. Humans here are even more fragile than back home! Also one of the most aware that the warp is doing something fucky to make this happen. Unbonded TSs are studying this phenomena as much as they can. Bonded ones are studying their humans for latent magic. They are enjoying the many mythological/occult books and paraphernalia available.

Rating: Being coerced into always picking magic themed movies for movie night but not really minding as the way your Thousand Son takes intense focused notes and gets you in on the pantomime is endearing.

Night Lords - What is Wrong!? With!? These!? Humans!? Utterly Baffled that humans here are brave enough to approach them. Did their silhouettes not strike FEAR in the hearts of entire militaries!? Did the mere whisper of their name not bring entire planets into compliance!? Did they not- Wait what are you doing? What is this!?

Affection.

Disgusting

...Okay

...I did not tell you to stop.

Rating: Spooky Scary Tsunderes

Salamanders: Best Day EEEEEEEEVER!!! They are SO happy. There's so much GOOD they can do here. Help the elderly cross the streets, aid lost children, torch human killer warbands into ash...finger painting.And the forging, The Forging! Showing these humans a proper 40th millenia forge (or as close as possible) and there are so many who want to learn! They have a whole new interconnected family to look after and only occasional minor life and death situations.

Rating: Finger painting with the daycare children while your bonded who works there buzzes around giving out snacks and compliments, before the group switches to forge practice. Vulcan Would be Proud.

Emperors Children/Noise Marines: Putting these in the same blurb because they're cut from the same cloth. They both love art of all kinds. Its just the type of art in question. Emperors Children are drawn to classic mediums, while Noise Marines skew more modern. Both groups also partake in much Much primping. Beauticians to special effects make up artists find themselves the muses of EC/NM. EC's are more concerned by the current situation, but they can't deny this Terra has many experiences to offer. And so many cute humans who adore their attention and beauty treatments. It's really quite gratifying. The Noise Marines are much more go with the flow. This world is ripe with new sensations and they're eager to indulge, especially in the music scene. Even if these settlements pale in comparison to those of their universe they still have excellent entertainments like bars, dance clubs and Skating Rinks.

Rating: Having a back and forth home spa day/makeup session with your EC/NM while listening to ya'lls favorite playlist. Then tearing up the dance floor when you go out that night.

Iron Warriors: What is this?

Affection?

... ... what's the catch?

None, you already fixed and improved every appliance in my house. I never even knew things could run so efficiently you did an amazing job!

... ...

You okay?

... fine (literally bursting with joy but has No idea how to handle it and will Not show it.)

Whats that, Appreciation? Legitimate thank yous? Downright basic human decency. Every Iron Warrior is waiting to be pinched, cause this Must be a dream.

So many millenia of doing all the empire's Worst Jobs. So many times they were derided for their brutality, yet they were leaned on for it. They could be nothing else.

But here, Here! In this bizarre Terra, they can be...anything! Forgemasters, engineers, artists, architects, anything! Anything and everything! After so long of getting the imperium's short stick, and then falling into the rot of chaos, Finally they are given what they've always desired. And they will Not allow Anything to take this happiness away be it Chaos or Loyalist.

Rating: (thinking about everybody in their old universe while holding their bonded human for cuddle time) Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, hate you slightly less, fuck you...

Thank you for understanding I really like what you wrote but yeah it leans heavily into the "non canon" canon of Husbandry (GOD DAMN IT I MIGHT JUST HAVE TO MAKE A LEWD HUSBANDRY AU TAG)

SO I love this. And I kinda agree! Though some of these are a bit memey/community fueled slants but honestly legion stereotypes kinda have a curl of truth to them.

EC in my headcanon also make a lot of the clothes as everybody came in just their armor so they make the clothes.

Night Lords are very on point. They never said to stop. And when they bond they bond HARD sure they might act tsundere but they crave that bond.

Iron Warriors are completely on point. Continue to praise them they will siege and burn down everything for their humans.

I love your depiction of these. Do you have more ideas?

[icant-speel]

Operation Beifong 💕

Wing Beifong x Team Avatar Reader - Reader along with Toph, Opal, Bolin, and Lin rescue the Beifong Fam. A little reunion with Wing and the reader happens and Toph just comes in and asks Wing if she is his girlfriend.

Little thing to know - I HAVE REQUESTED THIS TO OTHER BLOGS BEFORE BUT DECIDED TO WRITE IT MYSELF. So no one better be accusing me of coping 😟, Thank you 🌷

Bolin, Opal, Lin, and I inspected Zaofu from a high hill full with trees. With its metal buildings and friendly residents, the city always went easy on the eyes. But now the formidable and frightening Kuvira has taken possession of the city. She additionally tore down the platinum domes that protected Zaofu. Gazing over her former home, Opal questioned, "Kuvira tore down all the domes. Why would she do that?"

Chief Beifong held up her gold telescope to inspect the damage, and in that commanding voice, she stated "She's got a whole battalion of troops stationed there. There's no way we'll be able to spot anything useful from here. We'll have to go in for a closer look." 

"Don't bother, all the prisoners have been moved." An old voice replied from behind us. In unison, all of us turned our heads. Only to see an elderly woman, clad in green, wearing her grey hair tied in a bun. Hold on... IS THIS TOPH BEIFONG?

I turned to face Bolin, who was still getting over the fact that his hero was in front of him. Once he did turn around, we were both fangirling.

Lin got to her feet, her voice uncomfortable and perplexed as she said, "Uhhh, hey chief."

"Hey, chief," Toph said back. 

Opal raced to her grandmother and hugged her, obviously thrilled. 

"OHHHH MANNN," Bolin squealed kicking his feet in a childlike manner.

Oh, this is happening now. But to be fair I was about to have the same reaction as Bolin.

"I CAN'T THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENINGGG!!" He continued. 

"What you have to pee or something?" the elderly woman replied laced with annoyance. Opal laughed at her grandmother's sassy reply.

"No, well, now maybe. You're my hero! My name is Bolin, and I'm dating your granddaughter. I mean kind of, I may have screwed that up, but that's why I'm here, and you're my hero! Oh, I said that. Can I have a hug too?" he reached out his arms for a hug. I chuckled a bit at his babbling. 

Toph said, "What's up with him?"

"He's an actor." Her daughter replied.

Toph questioned me, "And Y/N do I get an enthusiastic greeting from you?"

"Hi to you Toph." I grinned and replied. 

"So you already checked the city for Sue? How do you know she was captured?" Lin asked Toph.

"I've been living in the swamp and keeping watch on Zaofu through the vines." She responded.

The five of us exchanged questions and discussed where to go. 

We strolled towards Opal's bison, Juicy. 

"Grandma, this is Juicy." Opal said to her grandma.

"And I thought Appa was smelly. Why would you choose this leaky, nasty, thing?" 

"You don't choose your bison he chooses you. And once he chooses you, you can't change. Believed me I checked."

I viewed Kuvira's army while riding the Bison and relished the cool wind on my face. 

"So," Bolin nudged my arm,, "you ready to save Wing?" , wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, I really miss him. I'm just hoping we'll be able too." I answered.

"Hey don't say that, of course we'll save him." Bolin reassured me.

"Thanks, and if we do save the family, you can hopefully win over Opal." I pushed him on the shoulder

He shook me and exclaimed, "Let's go save our relationships!"

~~~

The Beifong’s were held captive in a dim, unsettling cave. The cave was only illuminated by green crystals, and they were enclosed in a wooden cage that was supported by ropes.

"The guards are on the other side of that door. We'll have to be quiet." Toph remarked.

"Shoot me over to the cage and I can swing them back in my cable. Bolin, Y/N you two will have to catch them since mom won't be able to see them." Lin says, Bolin and I nod in agreement.

First I saw Lin swing over Wei. Bolin is the one to catch him. And here comes my Wing. After being set free by Lin's cable. I grabbed Wing in an embrace, stumbling a little. My arms wrapped around him tightly while he did the same. 

I kissed him all over his face a million times and held his face when we released each other. "I missed you so much Wing."

"Missed you more, sweetie. I can't believe I managed to go without seeing your face for that long." He cracked a grin. 

"You are not leaving my side from now on Wing Beifong, and don't even think about infiltrating another one of Kuvira's camps." I said, coming in for another hug.

"Wing your dating Y/N?" Toph interrupted. 

Wing held my hand and brought me over to Toph, "Yes grandma Toph."

Toph asked, "And you never told me?"

"Well, you were gone for-"

Toph cut him off, "I was talking to Y/N."

I answered hesitantly, "Heh. I guess I never did tell you."

Toph laughed to herself, "Well, you two seem happy together. its better than my other relationships, I can tell you that. Wing when are you putting a ring on her finger?" 

Wing and I looked at each other, blushing. Wow, Toph loves to cause mischief.

Bolin jumps into the conversation, shrieking like a young child again, "Yea, Wing, when are you going to?"

I looked at him with startled eyes and said, "Wait Bolin, aren't you supposed to catch them!?"

THUD! Something sounded behind us.

Glancing back, we saw Juan sitting on the ground, gazing at us.

"Thanks."