#i feel like this who rampage is going to break me

[queenie-the-court-jester]

yandere!emo boy x reader 🖤

a/n: first scenario! reader is mentioned to be cutesy and wears pink, while this dude is going through a hormonal rampage. All characters are depicted as seniors! 18+!

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

He hated this fucking school. Hated it so fucking much. He hated the other students, the snobby teachers, the shitty teaching. All of it. Everything except for you.

Sweet funny little you. Just sitting next to him playing on your phone. He was sitting in his chair, feet propped against the desk with the teacher not even bothering. She was done with his bullshit too.

Taking a quick glance at you, he still remembered how you stared up at him while you were collecting your purse's things. you bumped into him by accident and the purse fell due to you not really holding it.

He was planning on screaming at you, maybe give a punch in the nose but he froze when he looked at your face. Stared into your eyes. So pretty and innocent.. it was decided. He didn't need to know anything, you were his right then and there. Ignoring how you tried running away as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to sit with him at he lunch table.

that's how you got stuck with your new best friend, Riley sandserson. The schools goth and biggest asshole. Always bitching about something or being an overall insult to nature. Sassily flicking his hair away from his face, sometimes even managing to smack somebody with it.

Most avoided you because if they wanted to talk to you, they had to talk to Riley first. And Riley thrived on it. Getting to have you all to himself was an amazing feeling. Clinging to you like a barnacle onto a ship, kissing your neck sometimes or giving it a little nip. Letting out a loud laugh when you'd swat him away. He wanted to stuff that pretty cunt full of his seed..

But back to present matters, he watched you play your game, smiling a bit with how focused you were. Admiring the new ruffle skirt and pink cardigan you were wearing. Oh god, he loved you alright. "Hey, doll face" you looked up from your phone. Staring into his green eyes.

Fuck he could feel another boner coming on. "Gotcha somethin" he quietly passed a hello kitty doll towards you "saw it 'n thought you might like it" "thanks Riley.. I love it" you smiled and hugged your new friend, he was definitely stealing it back later when he'd break into your house again. He tapped his cheek, you seemed hesitant before placing a kiss on it like he demanded.

'i give you something? Thank me for it by giving me a big kiss.' you took it seriously and you're glad you did, because who knows what would happen if you didn't. Spotting his bloody knuckles as you pulled away, you fretted over him. Going into your bag to whip out some pink bandaids.

"Goddamnit what did I say about getting into fights? You'll get your shit rocked one of these days Riley I swear to god. you should be more.." he let your voice drone on, not even Paying attention as he grinned stupidly. He let you place them on with a blush on his pale acne covered face.

God you really wanted to punch him sometimes, to teach him a lesson. But hey, Atleast he stopped bragging about his latest fight and how he dislocated his opponents shoulder and broke their fingers..

What were you going to do with him?

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[38riku]

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃

making the phantom bride final four feel things (it's my favorite event sue me)

warnings — suggestive? light flirting.

𝐀. 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀

"stop glaring or i'll mess it up."

as if to prove your point, his brows pinched further, causing you huff in irritation. "okay. what's wrong? you were psyched up like two seconds ago."

"yeah, well, that was two seconds ago and now is now." his rebuttal caused you to roll your eyes. 'boys' you thought as a viable excuse before trying yet again to straighten his eyeliner.

his eyes darted around the room where the others did similar things: riddle fixed his lapels, epel examined his bouquet, and rook practiced his lines, everyone was unaffected by the current circumstance.

not the rampaging bride that is going to doom a teenage boy to the eternal afterlife, no, the fact that you were straddling him in a small vanity chair.

why was such a compromising position seen so casually? now that he thinks about it, the two of you were rather touchy – piggyback rides, you holding his arms, hugs, etc. – still, this is really teetering the line of friendly affection.

"done!" beaming, you leaned back a bit, causing him to hold on to your waist a bit firmer to keep you upright. "riddle! you have a keen eye, is it straight or what?"

the house warden walked over to the two of you and ace was sure he'd call out how inappropriate this is, but he didn't. instead, he nodded and complimented you on your handiwork.

"no need to thank me." you snorted, getting up to go help the others.

riddle chuckled, patting his freshman on the shoulder as he spoke, "are you upset that they're casually intimate with you or are you upset they might act like that with someone else?"

"w-what?!" ace's cheeks flushed red.

"i may be romantically handicapped but i'm more perceptive to it than you think. i can only suggest to say something sooner than later."

he lowered his head, still blushing, diverting his gaze away from your swaying figure as his house warden's words sunk in.

damn. he did want it to mean something.

ace doesn't know which is more embarrassing: his crush on you or that riddle was the one to make him realize.

𝐑. 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

"may i offer a suggestion?"

riddle hummed, meeting your eyes in the vanity mirror. "and what might that be? it's impossible to elevate perfection, you know."

ignoring his arrogant statement, you took a seat, propping his collar up and undoing his tie. "i think you'll stand out more it you tie it differently." you explained your actions, pausing momentarily until he nodded for you to continue.

he watched as you knotted and twirled the fabric, straightening it here and there, and you were done a minute later.

"a bow? it's rather ... cutesy."

"but you're cutesy."

riddle choked, coughing loudly and catching the attention of the other occupants of the room. as they began to walk towards him, he waved them off, effectively keeping them away from his flustered form.

"w-why would you–"

"the cuter you look, the less they'll take you seriously, and as one of the strongest mages left that's perfect for us to break their defenses."

of course, you meant it as a battle advantage – that is your area of expertise, after all.

"don't look so surprised." you joked, flattening out his collar and he hopes you can't feel the heated blush on his neck. "you were thinking the same thing too, right?"

"no, actually... i can't say that i was."

you tilted your head sideways, doubting his words but dropping the subject. "well, from now on don't look down on being cute, kay?"

standing from your seat, you left his vanity to tend to grimm, who, was arguing with ace about who knows what.

if he had half a mind he'd scold them both and cut off the small feline's magic, however, his mind was completely blank.

cute. you think he's cute.

riddle didn't take it as he usually would. for some off reason he felt giddy inside, wishing you meant it in a different ... more flirtatious manner. the poor boy has zero experience but wishing might work, right?

𝐑. 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓

"you need to talk normally to us so they won't be suspicious. try again."

if rook wasn't used to a strict training regime he'd undoubtedly call you a harsh teacher, but, as a lover of all things beautiful and magnificent he tossed the thought aside.

"no can do mon cherie. her actions are horrendous and nowhere near beautiful." he signed, placing a hand over his wounded heart. "but you, darling, are as heroic and magnificent as ever."

he watched as you rolled your eyes, placing a hand on your hip as you began to reprimand him for his lack of seriousness.

although he heard the words coming from your mouth, he couldn't help but focus on everything else.

despite not being a contender in this entire ordeal you were still dressed beautifully. the color is ethereal on you, he must make note of the hue for later ... and whatever scent you adorned had his senses on ten.

don't you know never to where perfume when there's a hunter nearby?

"rook! are you even listening to–"

all too suddenly he had your hand in his, the other gripping your waist firmly to keep your surprised form upright.

"let me give it to you straight then. the unseen beauty of your compassion and tender heart outshines that of a world class model. not that you aren't attractive, no, no, quite the opposite."

"how greedy can you possibly be?"

deep. rich. clear. his voice was positively enthralling when he dropped that phony accent (it does have a charm of its own in your opinion)

"perfect!" you beamed, his grip on you loosening in surprise of his own. "i knew you could do it. she'll be knocked off her translucent feet i tell you!"

rook allowed you to walk away, scolding epel who wiped his makeup off for the ninth time deeming it unmanly.

he couldn't help but laugh. he broke character, purposely, but he did nevertheless, and don't think he didn't notice the flash of attraction in your eyes.

never let your guard down in front of a predator, mon cherie.

𝐄. 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐑

"i swear on the seven you'll have more problems than a poof of blush if you keep testing my patience."

epel felt a chill run down his spine at your words but he stood his ground. he let you do the liner, tousle his hair all nice, and even spray a painfully potent cologne – but he draws the line at that pigmented puff of doom.

"i'm telling ya i'm not wearing that!" he argued back from the other side of the table. the two of you were playing chicken to the amusement of the others who were nearly done with their preparations.

"stop being a big baby!"

"i ain't no baby!"

he flinched back as you narrowed your eyes in a glare. for a moment, he felt sorry that grimm had to live with such a scary person.

"fine. don't wear the blush." you slid the compacted container to his side of the table, raising your hands in surrender.

"let me redo your hair then. it'll fit the look better, baby."

yeah. that's right, you better listen when he — wait, baby?

you pushed him down in the nearest chair, undoing the small ponytail you had before in favor of something else.

epel thought this earlier but your hands did feel amazing as you twirled and pinned his hair. he nearly fell asleep the first time but he knew better than to let down his guard.

"what do you think of this, baby?"

you were teasing him but jeez, why did it make his heart race?

"doesn't matter what i think." he huffed, and you laughed softly at the statement.

"well, i'm no ghost bride with unnaturally specific standards but you look good, baby." this time, you drawled out the pet name, winking, and then leaving him alone to question everything.

in the end he came to the conclusion that he should've just let you put the damn blush on.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[stephreynaart]

i'm so sad you ship billford.... im not gonna lecture you i just. sighs. i love your art so much this is really upsetting. :(((

We gonna have this conversation again?

At this point go take it up with Alex, cause it’s pretty much canon.

BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS BELOW

It’s REALLY hard to ignore all the language surrounding Bill’s relationship with Ford and how he pursues him, he follows the dating advice he gives in the book to a T

- Leaving dead rats/mice for Ford

- Ford is the only “partner” that Bill is openly vulnerable with and gives him some insight to his past and his experience (also referring to him as a partner)

- The “Love Cage” advice he gives, where he said go trap your date and sing them a song. And if you remember, Bill traps Ford in the Fearamid and sings to him “We’ll Meet Again”, which was a song written for WWII soldiers who were away from their lovers

“I’m Your Puppet” by James & Bobby Purify that Ford gets in his head, a love song, that also places Ford in his role in the relationship.

THE FLIRTING “you can call me anything but late to dinner”, “I think I’m starting to like you” and saying the same thing then saying “jinx”. GET A ROOM

Both got jealous when the other thinks they’re with someone else. Ford thinking Bill’s “inspiring another scientist” when he doesn’t see Bill for a few weeks, and Bill calling Fiddleford a “third wheel”.

Then when they break it off, Bill goes on a sad drunken rampage. Which you don’t do for someone who you don’t at least care about, especially not someone who’s just a friend

Bill gives Ford 3 days to turn the portal on and asks himself “What was I, a saint? And why did I do it- some misplaced sentimentality”

Even Mabel basically said Bill has a thing for Ford “you’re like a super needy ex” “go crush on someone else’s uncle”

They were definitely more than friends, from what I see it was mostly one-sided on Bill’s part.

Maybe Ford did feel something, it was definitely a relationship that made him feel good, more in tune with his brain and body, and gave him a big boost of confidence. He went to Bill for comfort when he was stressed and vented to him about stuff. Bill made Ford happy…while it was good anyway.

Was this a healthy relationship? FUCK NO!

Bill was mentally and physically abusive, manipulative, and possessive (LITERALLY). He spiked Ford’s drink after Ford said no to having one and got him fucked up. Bill took Ford’s body on a joyride and did horrible things to Ford that we see in the pictures and thing we DONT see in the video. All to make him comply and get the portal running. Calling Ford his PROPERTY.

But it’s a good story of overcoming an abusive relationship, which is great representation tbh, Ford is happier and has his family to love him now.

Normally Alex is great at leaving things up to interpretation, but I can’t ignore the intentional and not at all subtle way he depicted Bill and Ford’s relationship. There’s even seeds of it in the interview with Hana and TGFF

Go take it up with Hirsch, cause I’m just using what he gave me

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Lee Know

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Feeling beyond frustrated with your boyfriend you leave your phone home and head out to drink your sorrows away, meanwhile he's stuck there losing his mind trying to find you. Warning: CURSING It's me who's surprised there. Angst to fluff. Barely mentioning the sharing bed part but yeah... Reader is gender neutral. Mention of alcohol intake. reader is tipsy but fully conscious. I don't know if I missed anything so please let me know if I did. NOT PROOFREAD

A/N- Glad to announce that I'm alive and well and back with a new laptop so I won't have to break my fingers trying to type on my phone anymore!!! I'll try to update more and more now^^ As for my work, this is the first time I have written something like this and I really hope you'll like it. I tried my best to make it seem as real as possible and I'm really eager to know what you think, so if you have any feedback please tell me what you think. Again thank you for all the love and support you give me, it means the world to me!! Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^ Word count- 2.8k

Not knowing how to deal with your rampaging emotions you kept pacing back and forth in your apartment like a lunatic. You were at loss for words, never in your life you felt this humiliated and to think that Minho, the person who was supposed to be your safe space and your comfort person was the source of that!

Honestly, you felt torn, you were beyond mad at frustrated at Minho and wanted to rip him a new one, but at the same time you felt so heartbroken and miserable all you wanted to was to crawl in your bed and not get up for at least a week. It also didn’t help at all that your week was an absolute shit, with this said day being the cake on the top. All you wanted to do was to have a lunch with your boyfriend and just forget all the bullshit you had to go through. You knew he had a hectic schedule due to an upcoming comeback. Heck, you barely had seen him for the last maybe three weeks. He was already at practice when you woke up and immediately went to sleep when he came back in the middle of the night so he had barely any time to talk or text to you, you weren’t even talking about seeing you in person. It was what pissed you off the most. You were too considerate, how many people would be able to handle having a relationship like that, when a simple text sent your way made you want to throw fireworks? You knew he was busy, you only wanted to see him for what a half hour, just to eat together? Maybe get a hug? And an encouraging word that you could get through the day? No, what you get for bringing your very busy boyfriend and his bandmates his favorite takeout is to get yelled at in front of the said bandmates to being overly clingy and overbearing.

One part of you wanted to break down sobbing, the other part wanted to bring hell to him and make a biggest scene ever, in reality? You just left, not an ounce of emotion on your face. Maybe it would be better if you did either or those, at least you wouldn’t feel this torn now. So full of emotions feeling like you could burst any scond. No, you knew you were angry and rightfully so, this is why the tears that wouldn’t stop streaming down your face aggravated you even more. He didn’t deserve your tears not after the bullshit he pulled.

Another pang of notification brought you back to reality, God how many massages was he going to send? Who was clingy and overbearing now? If he thought that you would forgive just like that just because he was sorry then he was a damn fool. You knew he didn’t mean it; you knew him long enough to know that whenever he was too stressed he had outbursts like he did earlier and he said stuff he didn’t necessarily mean. It was an objective fact that you didn’t deserve to be called clingy. But it didn’t matter, he humiliated you in front of all these people and that wasn’t something you could easily forgive. Hell, how could you forget such thing? He could have said that he needed space that he was busy, no matter how vulnerable you felt, no matter how much you needed him in that moment you would have understood.

Maybe it was a sign. Your relationship was still considered new, it wouldn’t hurt as much ending things now. Maybe you could even return to being friends again. Another pang of your phone followed by another in less than five seconds, then another.

God, you couldn’t bear it anymore, you needed some air.

Not even considering to take your phone with you you left your apartment. You didn’t exactly know where you were going but it would be better than feeling suffocated in your own house.

***

Probably not the wisest choice because now you were worst kind of drunk in this bar meaning your mind was completely sober but your body seemed disconnected from your mind, everything was spinning and your whole body moved as if in slow motion. God what a beautiful day you couldn’t even drink to forget your own sorrows. Better go home then, or at least head to that direction.

You only managed to pay for the drinks and get outside before you felt so queasy you had to stop and lean on the lamppost. God, you hated that your body wasn’t listening to you.

Also, you were starting to regret not bringing your phone with you. You would have called your friend to pick you up and maybe take you with them or at least order a cab. Also, not really wise to spend most of the money you had in your wallet on drinks. God, you felt like shit.

Oh wow it was already night, and based on how there was barely anyone around it must’ve been quite late too.

You started walking but barely made 10 steps before you had to stop again, it was as if your body had a mind on its own and was refusing to cooperate.

“Baby!” You heard a loud yell and before you even had the time to react you were engulfed biggest hug ever. You almost wrapped your arms around your boyfriend before you remembered you were mad at him. Fortunately for you he almost immediately let go, carefully examining everything, his eyes so full of worry you felt bad for him for a second.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t even try to hide your displeasure. Minho flinched as if he was physically hit by your words.

“I was searching for you! I was out here wandering in these streets trying to find you for hours! I was about to call the police when I saw you here!” You felt guilty, looking at him. He looked dishelved, hair messy as if he had run his hand through it countless times, he was out of breath as if he had been running, his eyes red and swollen as if he had cried…Was he really running around searching for you?

“Who’s being clingy now? Couldn’t last five minutes without seeing me? Had to search for me all over town? So clingy and overbearing!” You watched as your words hit him like a slap, his face morphed into a pained one. You felt horrible talking to him this way, but part of you was satisfied, wanting him to know just how much words could hurt.

“I’m sorry…” His voice was quite almost inaudible, you knew he meant it but you would be dammed if you forgave him just like that.

“You should be, you were beyond cruel.” Even you were surprised how emotionless you sounded. You would also be fooled if you didn’t know the turmoil that was inside you right at this moment.

He lowered his gaze unable to look you in the eyes. “I know.” Oh great he knows, what a balm to your wound.

“You really hurt me Minho!” There was it, the anger, the hurt, you didn’t have the energy to contain it anymore.

“I know.”

“Oh that fixes everything then! You know! Do you know anything but that sentence? Is that all you have to say?” Silence, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh bitterly, feeling defeated. “What even are you doing here Minho?”

“You weren’t picking up the phone, your house was empty, neither your friends or your family knew where you were. I had to find you to know that you were safe!” His voice was strained, he looked like he was seconds away from busting in tears.

“I’m safe you can go home now!” You turned around to head home, all these emotions making you feel a bit more sober. You barely made two steps before a hand grabbed your wrist gently halting your movement. His voice desperately calling your name. “Please…”

You couldn’t take this anymore. You turned back to him eyes full of rage burning with unshed tears begging to be let out. “Please what Minho? What do you want me to do? You can’t even tell me normally why you were searching for me. You agree with me that you hurt me yet you’re not even saying you’re sorry, and no I won’t take that halfassed apology or whatever that was. What do you want me to do? It’s like you don’t even know what you want yourself so what do you really expect me to do?”

You watched a tear run down his reddened cheek. It infuriated you how breathtaking he looked right now. Not even the most skilled painter would be able to capture his beauty, not a single camera would be able to capture the full beauty. God, you hated how your heart only sang for him even in this much pain he caused. Here he was watching you in sorrow, in pain, angered by his betrayal while he did nothing just stand there idly looking ethereal, still managing to have you in his chokehold.

“Do you even love me?” No matter how hard you tried to fight it the dam broke. A tear slid down your face, quickly followed by another, then yet another, till it felt like a little stream down your face. You forced yourself to look him in the eyes, the pain and anger burning in them. His eyes also full of pain but you couldn’t read anything more. There were times you thought you could read his emotions… What a fool you were.

Your body started to shake trying to hold violent sobs wanting to break through. No matter how much you were fighting it you were starting to break down as if already knowing the answer. Subtly wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to hold yourself, to prevent breaking down even more. You hated feeling this weak. Hated that you couldn’t control yourself. Hated that you had to break down in front of him like this! To show him your weakness…

It was as if Minho awoke from the trance he was in, in the tenth of the second his arms were gently cradling your face and his lips were connected to yours, giving you probably the most passionate kiss you had ever received.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. The tears really felt like tiny rivers on your face, no matter how many times Minho tried to gently rub them from your face with his thumbs they just wouldn’t stop coming. The kiss was gentle yet firm, it tasted salty from both your tears (probably mostly yours) but still familiarly sweet. His lips moved against yours in determination, as if to show you his feelings the only way he knew how.

You felt like your body and mind were on overdrive feeling too many emotions at once, not fully knowing how to react. You tried to resist the urge to reciprocate the kiss but you almost immediately folded, almost quite literally because now if not Minho’s hands  migrating from your face to your waist you weren’t sure you would be able to be stand. Yor body felt like it was completely shutting down and you felt like you were at his mercy and based on how tightly he held you against his body and how fiercely he was kissing you he wasn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. And he didn’t, he only leaned his head back a little to give you time to catch your breath.

“I’m cruel as you said, and mean and cold and I most definitely don’t deserve such an amazing person as you by my side, I’m not even worthy of your forgiveness! You didn’t deserve to be told you’re clingy or overbearing or some shit like that when you’ve been so supportive, so kind, so patient and loving towards me when we both know I didn’t do shit to earn it.” His broken voice pulled on your heartstrings, no matter how angry you felt it was whole another pain to feel him talk so about himself. Minho lifted your hands and carefully kissed both of them, his hands slightly trembling. He looked you in the eyes, and for a second you were taken aback with the sea, no ocean of emotions in them. “I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings. There’s nothing I can say to justify my actions, but I promise you I never meant any of my words. I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible boyfriend to you but please trust me when I say, I love you with my whole heart, with everything I have and everything I am, please never doubt that.”

You stood like that for a second or two, maybe even a minute, unable to find words to say. You didn’t even now what you were feeling. Everything inside was a mess. Sighing in defeat you held your hand forward, Minho’s confused eyes snapping at them then at you in a second.

“Take me home.”

Minho took your hand without even thinking twice.

***

You knew you said that you felt a bit more sober earlier but that turned out to be a lie because you still felt so queasy getting in your bed felt like climbing the mount Everest and that with Minho’s help, who didn’t once let go of your hand and helped you with every step of your night routine. None of you had said a word since you held in your hand to him. You knew he was nervous based on the slight trembling you felt from time to time as you held his hand but honestly you didn’t know what you were going to say to him.

“I texted everyone that you’re home safe and that you’re going to sleep.” Minho broke the silence, his voice a bit coarse. You looked at him which made him look even more nervous. If not the circumstances you would find his unsureness and even shyness absolutely endearing. “There’s water and painkillers on your bedside table.” A nod from you, you were tired, you felt like you could sleep for a whole day.

You quickly came back to your senses when he let go of your hand. “You should go to sleep now, I will leave you to rest.”

Thankfully you managed to grab his wrist before he could leave. “Where are you going?“ Minho looked taken aback, clearly not expecting you to reach out for him.

“I thought you would want some space.” He sounded defeated.

You groaned as you fell on your bed. “God we really need to work on our communication skills. I promise I will tell you if I ever need space from you, now get in bed. There’s no way I’m letting you out of house on 3 am or whatever time it is, it’s late!”

After a second of silence you opened your eye to check on Minho, to see if he was here and you weren’t talking to yourself like a lunatic. The sight made your breath hitch. He had the softest smile adorning his face as he watched you, his eyes full of love, you had never seen him smiling at you like that.

“Careful or I might think you care for me.” There he was being a little shit you knew and loved, had to ruin a moment. you made sure to groan as loudly and as dramatically as possible.

“Minho I swear to God! Get in bed or I am going to make you sleep on the floor!” You tried to threaten but the smile that broke through your face wasn’t fooling anyone.

Minho didn’t waste a second and almost immediately you were pulled into a hug, your head smushed against his chest which beat wildly as if in joy.

“I could have given you a second to change you know, I think I might have something you can change into…” Minho didn’t let you finish your sentence -“Let me just hold you for a second, please.”

Not wanting to deny him you wrapped your arms around him and held him just as tight. Both of you feeling content being in each other’s arms, finally feeling calm and most importantly safe.

“I love you.” You heard Minho mutter against your skin, he was so still you thought he had fallen asleep. You looked up at him, there was that gaze again, so full of love and tenderness. Not even trying to hide your smile you leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss. “I know. I love you too.”

Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^

[tourturestarradio]

Helloooo!! I hope you’re doing alright :3

‼️‼️‼️SPOILER FOR DEADPOOL 3‼️‼️‼️

Can I request a crack fic? With either male or gender neutral reader, with Logan and Wade, in that car fight scene?

Like, the three of them are in that Honda Odyssey, and when Logan and Wade start fighting, reader just gets so fed up, they’re like: “oh my god can y’all just kiss already? This is painful to watch.” Bc that was me the entire time I was watching that movie😭🙏🏻 You can add anything else you want in there but I would love to see that! I absolutely love how you write so I don’t doubt you could make this just as well as your others!! ☺️💙

𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: You're sick of Wade's and Logan's BS and for the first time you lose your temper on them.

Pairing: Deadpool/Wade Willson x G/n reader x Wolverine/Logan Howlet

Warnings: Cursing, Spoilers for Deadpool 3

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You ducked and dodged under both of the mens attacks they had been fighting each other for the past 30 minutes with no breaks. All because Logan couldn't keep the mouth shut. So now you sat bruises, bullet wounds, and cuts covering your body.

"Guys! G..Guys can we please stop fighting...please?" but they both ignored you again, usually you were the calm one to defuse their arguments and they'd relax, before they were back at it again.

You looked between the two your irritation growing stronger by the second.

"Uh...Wade?" he was stabbing into Logan "one moment cupcake." you dodged a stray knife headed your way "Logan?..." he broke Wades arm "not now."

You were willing to just let them fight it out that was the plan until Wade had redirected Logans blades into your leg.

That was your final straw, "Will you two just fuck already?!" you shouted looking at the two "what the fuck are you-" "Logan shut the hell up!" he closed his mouth Wade laughing at him "ha you're in trouble now-" "Wade so help me God I will shove that stupid kitana so far up your ass you're be tasting metal for a god damned month!"

They both hushed surprised by your outburst, your were usually so calm all the time.

"Every time you both are around each other it's like a enemies to lovers trope just waiting to happen! the sexual tension is palpable between you two!" You pulled Wolverines blades out of your leg "you two just can't go five fucking minutes without wanting to rip each other apart, for fucks sake!" you rolled your eyes "by some grace of God I've made it this far with you two assholes without having a brain aneurysm!"

You pulled a baby knife out of your torso pointing to Wade "I mean I get it you both have your differences, you're doing this because you got a girlfriend that barely loves you. Little to no friends who enjoy being around but you care about them and that's what's important right? Right.so you want to do everything in your will power to make sure those people don't die because without them you have nothing to distract from the impending doom you feel in your gut that you're not good enough. But god forbid you ever feel safe or scared so you cover up all your problems by making half funny jokes and witty comebacks. How's that am I in the right ball park?" You faced Logan as Wade pondered on your words.

He opened his mouth to speak but you hushed him quickly "And you, you try to be all big bad and tough but you're not you're a sad lonely man with no family or friends because in your universe they're dead and there's nothing you can do about it. But because you were left alive you carry the guilt of losing the people you cared for the most everyday wishing you could go back and fix things and make them right, but you can't they're gone for good but instead of making something out of your life and trying to start new you decided to go on a murderous rampage. So now you carry that guilt on top of everything else so you drown yourself in those chemicals in a bottle to forget or ignore your problems instead of growing a pair owning up to your mistakes!"

You got out of the car "so in conclusion you both have your reasons for being here, you want to get back the things you love most, but you two fuck faces are too idiotic to realize how much you have in common so you ignore the good character writing and argue and fight every other scene! I mean come on how much more gay could you two get!" You huffed finally letting that off your chest and turning to walk away "now i'm going to leave for an hour to blow off some steam and you both have two ultimatums you either A : take those sweaty suits off and have the best hate sex of your lives or B: shut the fuck up! Grow some balls! and get it the fuck together!" you stormed away both Logan and Wade too stunned to say anything.

.

.

.

"That was pretty hot, i've never seen them so angry."

Safe to say they made up for now and continued on with the rest of the movie.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: sorry this was so short!!!!! hope you enjoyed!

[teaboot]

Batman? As in extended batman universe, specifically batman, or movies batman? I'm going to die from the hilarity of /accidentally/ following another batman fan. Generally it's on purpose lol

I was actually absorbed into the Fandom by osmosis before I even touched any of the Canon material

Even now I've only seen the Affleck movies and the Battinson one, plus a couple cartoons and like. Four comics out of order

With next to zero evidence tho I have decided that

Dick Grayson has Eldest Daughter syndrome that, speaking as an Eldest Daughter (tm) really should be addressed in the lore somewhere before he goes on a drunken bender, gets a tramp stamp, kills a man, and has a full-on mental breakdown when the Repression Dam breaks

Stephany Brown radiates "angry teen girl needs a hug" energy imo but I feel like she might break my arms? I don't know anything about her except her dad sucks but honestly same boat, would hang

Timothy Drake cannot be the helpless boohoo I see a lot of, but somehow the cool, collected, hypercompentant, übermensch-tweenybopper look is kinda sadder, like seeing a twelve year old buying groceries at the store by themselves. I want to send his ass to normal kid summer camp

I don't know pretty much anything about Duke Thomas except that he's a meta whose parents might be alive but crazy. I can only conclude that he suffers from Black Character White Fandom syndrome. I headcanon that he had an embarrassing weeb phase in middle school because he feels like the kind of kid Who'd have gone through a phase of saying "ohaio" with peace signs as a baby tween. I have no evidence to support this

Cassandra Cain might be my favourite. I think she deserves to go on an angry, irrational rampage or two, as a treat. Aggretsuko vibes that I cannot explain. I bet her favourite colour is purple

Jason Todd is my guilty comfort character and I refuse to believe he kicked the shit out of a fifteen year old while wearing a legless adult onesie. I refuse. Also yeah as a huge angry-kid-book-nerd there is no way that pride and prejudice was his number one fave, my money is on the Percy Jackson series but that could just be me projecting

Damian Wayne is Autistic, personal subscription. Because I am too and I said so. Reminds me of my baby brother, but crankier. Like a tiny old man who doesn't want to be at bingo with the other folks at the senior center.

I feel like Alfred should be allowed to be wrong about something sometimes but I still love him. Give that grandpa a gun

Bruce Wayne strikes me as a man who should have put a lot more thought and study and personal therapy consults into the idea of adopting multiple highly capable highly traumatized children he's never met before before but fuck pobody's nerfect am I right. Bisexual

[jjkamochoso]

Rotten Right to the Core

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader

Inspired by Charlie XCX’s song “Apple”; Sanemi worries about the traits he’s inherited from his parents…

Warnings: cussing, yelling, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

[I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree/'Cause I've been looking at you so long/Now I only see me/I wanna throw the apple into the sky/Feels like you never understand me/So I just wanna drive/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport]

Each year as Sanemi grew older, he became more nervous to look at his reflection, afraid of what he might see. Would he retain the soft features of his mother? Or would his father’s presence haunt him as he stared into the eyes that reminded him of everything bad in this world? He hated feeling this way. Sometimes he would get so angry that he would break the mirror, desperate to erase the possibility of seeing the ghost of his father ever present on his face. After his rampage would finish, you were always there to dutifully clean up the mess, both physically and mentally. He was your lover, after all; taking care of each other was part of your promises to one another.

Today was one of those days where Sanemi grappled with his self worth.

Thankfully you were home, not having been sent on a demon slaying mission yet. As soon as you heard the crashing of broken glass, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Sanemi was a good husband—a great one, actually—and you knew that he had a violent upbringing. That’s why you never got upset at these outbursts; you couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to see the face of the man who brought your family so much pain look back at you every day of your life. You grabbed a dustpan and a broom on your way to the upset Wind Pillar.

“I’m coming in,” you said quietly, knocking on the door and opening it. You were met with Sanemi gripping the edge of the counter, his knuckles white with fury underneath the layers of blood dripping from his cut skin. The glass on the floor could wait—he needed to be bandaged. You opened the medical kit and dug through for tweezers and gauze. Sanemi stayed silent, still seething. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, ashamed at making such a mess. You didn’t care, though, you never did.

“I’m going to clean you up first and then I’ll get the glass, okay?” you told him, gesturing him to take a seat away from the damage he dealt. You sanitized the wounds on his knuckles before getting to work on extracting the small pieces of glass from the cuts. He barely flinched as you did this, making you frown. He must’ve been extra upset this time. When you started the bandaging process, he finally spoke up.

“I look like him. I hate it.” His voice trembled with fury. “I can’t stand knowing I’ll never be able to escape him.”

You listened intently in case he wanted to say something else, but he went quiet again. You were all done wrapping him up and placed a loving kiss on the freshly bandaged hand.

“You’re not him,” you whispered. “You’ve never raised a hand to me. You’ve never hurt me.”

Sanemi let out a humorless laugh, pulling his hand from your grasp. “Is that the standard for good husbands nowadays? What a joke.”

He abruptly stood, leaving the room. You sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day. You wished you had all the right things to say to him, anything to convince him that he’s not a carbon copy of his deadbeat dad, but you were at a loss. The only thing you could do was let him get his anger out elsewhere and he’d come to you when he was ready. You got down on your hands and knees and began to clean up the glass, careful not to cut yourself. You heard heavy footsteps re-enter the room.

“What are you doing?” Sanemi barked out.

“I’m cleaning up.”

“Would you stop? I can do it myself.”

You frowned again. “I know, I’m just trying to help.”

“Just stop, okay? I don’t need your pity!”

You ignored him and went back to your task at hand. That sent Sanemi over the edge.

“Seriously, get the fuck up. I said I’ll do it!”

You weren’t phased by his raised voice. “And I said I’m helping.”

Sanemi just stared at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. All of a sudden he stopped, his bloodshot eyes widening at the memory that entered his mind.

His father’s cup sloshed around with his alcohol of choice for the night. In one drunken movement, he spilled the contents onto the floor.

His mother lowered her eyes. “I’ll clean that right away.”

She took hold of the nearest rag and got down on her hands and knees, but his father didn’t care for her kindness, grabbing her roughly by the arm and hoisting her up before throwing her to the side.

“Get up! Do you think I’m some sort of useless child?” he screamed. “I can use a rag you idiot. I don’t need your help!”

“Sanemi? Are you-”

“You’re just like her,” he choked out. “You’re just like her and I’m just like him.”

You didn’t know what memory spurred that reaction but you figured it was a bad one. You reached out to comfort him but he was gone in an instant. You heard the front door slam shut and you knew he would be gone until evening. He couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as you during times like these when you reminded him of his mother as he was acting like his father. He couldn’t stand knowing he could never truly rid himself of the tendencies that were passed down from the man he was unfortunate enough to be born to.

[I guess the apple could turn yellow or green/I know there's lots of different nuances/To you and to me/I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds/But I can't help but get so angry/You don't listen to me/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night]

Sanemi hurried out the door, desperately needing air and wanting to put as much space as he could between himself and you. He couldn’t believe he let himself get so angry, especially at you. The recollection of his father yelling at his mother the same way he had just done to you was a grim realization for Sanemi that he was following in his father’s footsteps. He picked up his sword and began hacking away, channeling his frustrations into obliterating the training dummy. The more he thought about his previous actions, the more he raged, howling winds swirling around him in an outward reflection of the storm inside himself. He had completely lost himself in his fury, only halting when the dummy was chopped into tiny pieces. The scene in front of him was reminiscent of the one he left inside; yet again, Sanemi proved he only knew violence. He threw his sword away from him, disgusted with his actions, before falling to his knees and shoving his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he have been more like his mother? Calm, caring, loving. She was the light in the perpetual darkness of his father. Weren’t his hands, though calloused and stained with blood (literally and figuratively), capable of handling things with grace and a nurturing touch? Why, instead, was he destined to destroy everything? Or—even worse—was this not destiny in play, but his own choices leading him to blaze through life and hurt everyone close to him? He knew he had the ability to choose love and show the softer side of his personality, he had done it plenty of times in the past. You, his loving wife, had made it easier for Sanemi to follow a more peaceful path, encouraged him to embrace his kinder side, yet he still found himself vexed over little things too often for his liking. It was like vengeance and anger were innate needs, something he couldn’t give up no matter how hard he tried. You deserved better than him; he had made that clear from the very start of your relationship. You didn’t believe him for one second, knowing he had goodness in his heart as he had shown glimpses of his affectionate nature many times. The protective walls he had constructed inside himself were there for a reason but you often broke through them, Sanemi never understanding why you would commit yourself to such a grueling task with no reward at the end (you would disagree as being loved by him was the greatest reward you could ever want). Countless nights were spent by him wondering why you continued to be married to someone like him. He saw no positives for you in your union and when he expressed that, those were the only times it was you who was angry rather than him.

[I think the apple's rotten right to the core/From all the things passed down/From all the apples coming before/I split the apple down symmetrical lines/And what I find is kinda scary/Makes me just wanna drive

I wanna know where you go/When you're feeling alone/When you're feeling alone, do you…]

Sanemi had stayed crumpled on the ground until the sun threatened to dip below the horizon, signaling that nightfall was arriving soon. He gingerly walked inside the house, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that came with his absence. It was dark in every room, save for the few candles you left burning in the kitchen to signal the plate of dinner you had left out for him. Sanemi’s stomach was in knots; he had left you all alone yet you still cooked his favorite food for him.

Some husband I am.

He savored the bites of ohagi as he sat in silence, wondering where you were. Had you finally had enough of him and left? No, you wouldn’t do that without telling him first. You were many things but you certainly weren’t heartless. Worry started settling into him as the sun wasted away. You shouldn’t be out after dark. Sure, you were a demon slayer, but he’d seen the most talented members of the corps slain when they were caught off guard. He gulped down the last of his food and took off in a hurry; to where, he didn’t know. He had no idea where you went when he would storm out. Cussing under his breath, he checked all the rooms of the mansion again.

“Y/n?” he called out. Nothing. Now he was starting to panic. He yanked one of the extra swords from the cabinet in your shared bedroom and tore through the door to the outside. He investigated the surrounding area, yelling your name but getting no response. His mind was scrambled, his breath scattered.

Where could she be?

As soon as that thought hit his brain, he knew exactly where you were.

He found you in the garden.

You were sitting on a stepping stone, your gaze settling on the flowers surrounding you.

“You shouldn’t be out in the dark. It’s not safe.”

Sanemi’s voice, having lost its harshness, made you smile. He was always worried for others and took on such a protective role; how he couldn’t see the positive impact he had, you didn’t know.

“I have my sword,” you replied, not facing him. “And I have you.”

Sanemi’s face burned at his wife’s saccharine tone. He took up a spot next to you, your shoulders brushing together. He wanted to apologize for his behavior today but he didn’t know how to start.

He was his father’s son: brash, unrelenting, unstoppable.

He was his father’s son: he was a coward.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He furrowed his brow. “Why the hell are you apologizing? I’m the jerk here.” He took a deep breath, looking off into the distance as he tried to articulate his feelings. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything. Today and in the past. It sickens me knowing the woman I love has to see the man that I hate.”

You reached out to hold his hand and this time he allowed you to, grasping you with a featherlight touch.

“I’m no good,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why you stay.”

He awaited your usual heated response, but it didn’t come.

“Sanemi, look at me.”

You spoke with such authority that he didn’t dare defy you. His white hair resembled the color of the moon, both shiny brightly in the dark of night.

“I love you. All of you. You are not the monster you think yourself to be, not even close. Yes, you have a temper. Yes, you can get incensed on a whim. Those are not the world ending traits you think them to be. You are a good man, Sanemi. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe then you could understand my love for you.”

Sanemi felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. You always comforted him in ways he never knew possible, but something about tonight was making your sentiments affect him more than usual.

“From what I know, your father would’ve never owned up to his mistakes,” you continued, using your free hand to rub circles on his back. “You’re already a million times better of a man than he ever was.”

“Do you remember when we found those beetles you love so much?” you asked, earning a confused look from Sanemi as he nodded. “You raised the babies into healthy adults. That takes patience and compassion, both of which you have an abundance of in here.” You poked his exposed chest. “How about the time I was so sick I couldn’t stand? You took care of me all day and night, barely getting a wink of sleep yourself because you were so concerned.”

Sanemi did remember all of that.

“I was so scared you were gonna die,” he mumbled. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Those situations are what prove how great of a husband, of a person, you truly are.” You squeezed his hand. “Look inside yourself, my love. You’ll see that there’s traits you inherited from both parents. It’s up to you to decide who you’d rather embody, nothing is set in stone or chosen for you. I think you’ll find you take after your mother more than you think.”

Sanemi got up, brushing off his pants before offering you his hands to grab as he hoisted you up, pulling you into a warm hug. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking steadying breaths.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he held you, “for being by my side. For loving me. For believing in me.”

As he stood there with you, cradling your body with his own, he was reminded of a substantially better memory than the one from that morning.

“Goodnight mommy!” Sanemi had said, his little feet sprinting as he threw himself into his mother’s open arms. She was sporting her large, beautiful grin that he missed seeing so often.

“Goodnight, my child,” she responded, burrowing her nose into his messy hair before placing a gentle kiss there.

He smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

[semisolidmind]

How do you think season 5 would’ve gone in your Bad End or Twice As Bad AU?

ok, so

y'know how, since season 4, mk has been going through the whole “i don’t want to use or even acknowledge my monkey form because it makes me feel like a monster” thing? well, bad end/twice as bad mk doesn’t have that hangup to address, because he’s spent his entire life up until the shows’ events in that form, training and living in it. he knows no other way.

he is an incredibly powerful monkey demon; he is the harbinger of chaos, and he's fine with it.

his “mortal” form is the one he’s been having visions and confrontations with. (i imagine the ink curse in s4 using his mortal form to taunt him about being weak now that he's got mortals he cares about– "keep on compromising for them, and you'll end up just like them; too small and insignificant to ever make a difference.")

instead of having to face his fear that he may be dangerous (because as a crazy powerful monkey demon trained by the two other most powerful monkey demons in the universe, of course he is), his mortal self is trying to tell him that he doesn't have to be a monster like wukong. death and rampant destruction don't have to be his legacy.

the mortal mk in his meditative visions tells him that caring for his friends doesn't make him weak or undeserving of his power and lineage. the visions he has during the guardian trials (and the guardians themselves) tell him that in order to be a real hero, he has to care about those that his training would tell him are "lesser" than him (also that his friends aren't worth less just because they don't have a ridiculous amount of power).

mk would learn to accept that every being in the world has value, regardless of their status. nuwa would tell him this as well, when he meets her.

season 5 would be bad end/twice as bad mk's journey of accepting that he has a mortal heart, and that caring for others has immense power all on its own. he must choose to be the change to the status quo.

he'd always known he was an "agent of chaos," but the events of season five cement in his mind that he was brought into the world for a reason. just that now, he alone gets to decide what that reason is.

----------

as for his mentors...

getting captured and re-bound by the gold fillet wasn't exactly on the monkey king's itinerary, and he's majorly pissed. he levels the surrounding area about it, and decimates all of the soldiers sent to subdue him (regardless of how agonizing the tightening spell is; the pain just makes him angrier). he breaks every ward and barrier placed against him, tears apart any enemy who dares to come close. his rage is a force to be reckoned with.

wukong had sworn he'd never be subjugated by heaven ever again; he's definitely not just gonna let this slide. the celestial realm will suffer for their breach of the tentative peace they brokered by leaving the monkey king well enough alone.

as the only one that gets captured after his fit of rage, he only has to get himself out of celestial prison. easy, despite how many wards are placed on his cell (it's not like heaven has ever been much of a threat to him before, after all). he has to get back to the group, for his family's sake. nothing will stand in his way.

macaque only barely dodges getting locked into a fillet as well, and uses his advantage to launch a sneak attack on nezha and li jing; this forces them back and gives the gang their chance to escape in the chaos caused by the monkey bros.

the shadow general takes the distraction provided by wukong's rampage to get reader and everyone else somewhere safe. from there, the gang helps mk find all the stones, defeat the guardians trials, and eventually make their way to the pillar.

both wukong and macaque try to stop mk from sacrificing himself (in-between fighting the nine-headed demon), and reader tries to talk him down from it. however, she can't argue with the look of quiet determination on his face..she knows that he's made up his mind. with tears in her eyes she embraces him, then lets him go.

wukong tries to go after him, but one look at reader stops him. she's...she's accepted his decision. just like she always has. maybe...maybe this time, wukong should too. he sheds tears and holds onto his wife... but doesn't follow his son into the pillar.

the world goes silent, before bursting back to life.

the stones are destroyed, the nine-headed demon dissapears, and things go back to almost normal.

----------

—i imagine reader, with her skills as a peacemaker developed from her centuries as queen of flower fruit mountain, is the one who keeps everyone calm and grounded throughout their ordeals. she's gotten to know them all through her adopted charge, and keeps them on track.

—now it'd make sense for reader to be left relatively safe on ffm, but given the state of the universe in this season, the monkey bros aren't about to let her out of their sight (weird end-of -the-world-again family road trip). they don't care much for the rest of existence, but even they have to acknowledge that they'd prefer the world and their mountain unbroken.

—the pagoda sequence is a very emotionally tense one for reader and the boys in twice as bad. reader relives being stolen and the early years of her imprisonment; after they break her out of the hundred eyed demon's spell, she won't look at either of them and flinches away when they try to touch her; little does she know, her husbands relived the same thing (plus all the other bad shit they've done). they've learned enough compassion for her to feel a bit of shame.

[nyeddleblog]

A little piece of heaven [Part 4]

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Original Female Character x Logan Howlett. Summary: In Wade's timeline, Iris is his supernice upstairs neighbor. In Wolverine's, she's his beloved dead wife. A/N: This is a Wattpad Fic with an original character of mine that you can find here. Warnings: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, kinda.

PREVIOUS PART.

Chapter 4: Wine, weed and Wade.

A week went by and she didn't hear much from Wade or Logan. She wondered if his new roommate had already figured out a way to murder him or if he'd gotten trapped in another reality all over again, yet she found the quiet good enough to begin grading her tests.

She got a carefully curated collection of sweet wine, a good stash of homemade cookies and an old Altoids box that she kept since high-school, with freshly ground weed. She was going to do just fine, she just needed a bit of Chappell Roan in the background and she was good to go.

Or hot to go. 

Heh.

Iris didn't go out much on weekends. She usually just put on a good show and tried to retake the work she left during the week, like then, or listened to her playlist while she baked something, like she planned to do that afternoon. It's not like she didn't enjoy people's company, she was just much more comfortable alone, or next to Wade. 

To be honest, her whole ex situation had made her a bit of an introvert.

But forty grades in and she was already starting to miss human interaction. And grading over 120 students, about an hour later, made her wonder what she was doing with her life. 

She really needed a smoke.

Iris grabbed her cardigan, slipped on her flats and took a hold of the little Altoids box and her glass of wine before stepping out into her balcony. It was that time of the semester where every single student appeared to have lost all of their brain cells.  

"Burnout, sugarplum?" she heard Wade's voice beneath her. She let out a sigh, smiling to herself, "Missing me already?"

"Feeling lonely without you" she played along dramatically, rolling a joint. There was a faint smile on her lips as she fidgeted with it in her fingers. 

Wade chuckled, his voice carrying up to her. "Aw, come on, Rainbow Eyes. I was just about to raid your fridge. You know, for research purposes."

Iris rolled her eyes at that, imagining the ridiculous anecdote he would tell her once she inquired about his absence, "You craving my questionable left-overs, baby?"

She leaned over the balcony, just to check the reaction he had to the pet name. He looked up at her, mouth agape and then, slowly, he raised Mary Puppins in his hands, enough for her to gently lick what she reached of Iris' chin. Iris giggled loudly at that, and she could hear a frustrated groan from deep within's Wade's apartment.

"He's not taking this well, is he?" she whispered.

In response, Wade looked somewhere inside his living-room and yelled, "Can you shut up? I'm trying to flirt with your wife!"

Iris eyes widened at that and she could only see her friend disappear abruptly, being yanked by a clawed hand. Mary Puppins let a small cry when she was left on the floor, and Iris pouted at the thought, staying with her joint in hand curiously, to figure out what was happening downstairs.

She heard glass break, a few things being tossed aside and some muffled insults before she could realize there were at least 20 tests ungraded. She took a long drag of the joint and came back inside, barely able to imagine the chaos unfolding. 

She paused the music, attentively trying to decipher the words being said. The rampage was somewhat comforting, and much more fun than any show she was starting to finish. She finished her joint as she stared at the student's name below her. Miles Morales.

Yeah, that was probably her favorite student. At least one kid who would get into college and appreciate her efforts to educate them. 

She finished her joint, careful not to burn the papers. Then, she took a sip of wine and scribbled down the the few notes that praised the kid's wit. 

He'd made a great fucking essay right at the end of the test. She smiled sweetly, correcting a few grammar mistakes and underlining the beautifully phrased answers Miles had written. Too focused to hear the heavy steps on the stairs, so the ring made her spill a considerable amount of red tint over the kid's test. She inhaled deeply.

She would have to photocopy it. Couldn't take the risk of anyone finding out she drank while grading, though she was pretty sure most of her colleagues did.

"Wha... What?!" she yelled out, a pinch of annoyance gripping her voice.

"Hey, you were the one giving me fuck me eyes ten minutes ago" She heard Wade's muffled voice let out, making her roll her eyes with a grin, "Don't play with my feelings like that!"

Iris stood up from her comfortable position in the floor and made sure that her knitted shorts were covering her butt cheeks completely, because lord knows what Wade would say if he saw all of that but, thinking it a little better, she raised the waistband and let it hug her curves comfortably. Let him stare for a while.

"Quit fighting or...?"

In front of her, as she swung the door open, where both her best friend and the man of her dreams (literally, that is). Iris raised her eyebrows, wondering what could she possibly have done to deserve this amusing visit, but Logan scanned her figure thoroughly and looked away, and she was once again self-conscious of the length of her shorts.

"'Sup" she tried to appear nonchalant. 

"My, my, my..." Wade let out, giving her a little spin, "Look at you, tripping and working. I bet your students love you."

She giggled, stepping aside to let them in, "My students don't give a shit."

Her friend hummed in answer and took in the sight of her apartment. She guessed that, after a week (a bit more if she included the time he was out fighting the TVA) he couldn't see the faint changes she had worked on. A few more shelves, the baby blue paint all over the walls.

It was only a matter of time, she had bought the apartment after all.

"Did you do this all by yourself, sweet cheeks?"

"Who would've helped me, Wade?" she let out, turning to the fridge and walking over to promptly search what she knew Wade was looking for, food. And, just for the sight of moody Logan right behind him, two beers.

He looked good, Iris realized as she gave him the bottle with a gentle smile. I mean, Logan always looked good but it was even better when she was herself, looking at him through her own eyes; she wondered what could her version of that universe have done to put a ring on his finger.

Her ogling was interrupted by Wade putting an arm around her shoulders. She could see the reaction Logan had at that, his jaw clenching, his fists giving a silent warning. It was a lie if Iris said she didn't like that, so she rested her head on Wade's shoulder.

It was impressive how his mouth opened and Logan was pure rage. He said something about Iris' fuckable thighs, she wasn't really sure, but she knew it was more in a playful tone, than a seductive one. Either he was trying to get himself killed, or make his friend objectify her.

"I'm going to finish grading" she stated, gently nudging Wade to the table, "Eat your food, kids!"

He grinned happily in response, getting a hold of Iris' cabinets to take out the plates he was going to wash afterwards with the rest of her dirty dishes, because he wasn't a fucking animal. 

"You're a teacher?" Logan inquired.

Iris, already settled on the floor (right in front of her very comfortable couch), looked up at him mindlessly and nodded. She just had five grades left. She was so going to finish them and take a nap, but the gaze burning her skin was a bit too distracting.

"What?" she giggled playfully, "What's so mind blowing about it?"

He opened his mouth to answer but nothing really came out. She realized there was definitely something mind blowing about it, but chose against prying too much and gave him a kind smile instead, taking a sip of what was left of her wine.

She wondered if the ring in his hand had her name engraved on it.

A/N: I'm sorry if it's too serious for a Deadpool Fanfiction but, well, you're in for an angsty polyamory slowburn, with a bit of comic relief interruptions. 

[yanxidarlings]

ik i should focus on requests but i just have some ideas

what if the reader from the slytherin x dormmate reader series ended up in ravenclaw? (spoiler alert he now has a ravenclaw yandere harem) will address the slytherin side of this conundrum in another post but for now i present

YANDERE HOGWARTS: RAVENCLAW BOYS X DORMMATE READER

"ravenclaw" the entire hall falls dead silent, m/n l/n, from the famous l/n family? the purebloods that have been in slytherin for centuries? a ravenclaw. the young boy had a look of horror on his face as he sat there in shock.

the sorting hat was taken off his head and mcgonagall ushered him towards the ravenclaw table. "no- but" he squeked out as he was sat with the rest of the first year ravenclaws. he felt himself bumping into someone as he sat down, oh my god did i just touch a mudblood, m/n thought, stealing a glance at the person- boy, who was next to him, merlin help me i'm going to hell.

"names michael corner" m/n heard the faint voice of another boy, his handoutstretched as the prefect led the first years up the ravenclaw tower stairs. do i have to do this walk everyday, m/n thought to himself as he stared ahead blankly. "you alright, mate?" the boy walking next to m/n spoke once again, waving his hand in front of m/n's face.

taking it one step further, the boy poked m/n on the cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts - "get your hands off me you filthy-" "quiet down first years, this is the entrance to the common room" m/n was cut off by the prefect, sending a glare the boy - maxwell?, myles? michael?.

• yeah so homeboy reader was not prepared to get sorted into any house but slytherin. i mean ig ravenclaw is better than hufflepuff or god forbid gryffindor but by a small margin.

• dude kinda misses his slythergremlins sure they were annoying but at least they aren't going to suck the magic out of him like the muggleborns in ravenclaw were.

• so reader doesn't really get off on the best foot with his new dormmates, probably says something offensive, and boom, now his dormmates hate him. not to mention his childhood friends who got sorted into slytherin as expected started giving him the cold shoulder.

• okay so they don't hate him but he does feel like the odd one out. yes his first question when he arrived at the dorms was their blood status's and he purposely moved his bed further away from them just so he didn't accidentally catch half blood cooties but it only took him six months to stop scrubbing down the shower before taking one incase one of them carried a virus that would convert him into a blood traitor.

TERRY BOOT (fancast fionn whitehead):

• terry boot is probably the most offended of the three, the other two take the readers behaviour in relative stride but terry get's pretty bothered. is it because he's upset that reader doesn't like him or is it because he's actually offended? the world may never know

• at some point he started going through readers stuff, just to make sure he isn't trying to poison us, but steals little keepsakes like socks, pins and the l/n family signet ring that sent the reader on a rampage for an entire month before he gave up on finding it.

• the winter break after that, reader came back to hogwarts with bruises all across his legs.

"you fell down the stairs? is your coordination that poor or are you getting an early start on the hereditary alcholism in your family" terry scoffed, arms folded, a sceptic expression on his face as he observed the boys bruised limbs.

m/n scoffed "the l/n house has moving stairs you dimwit" he quickly closed the door to the bathroom "you nearly fell down the staircase on the way to potions last term" he added from behind the door. terry frowned, did he see scars on l/n's arm as well? he reached down into his pocket and gripped onto the signet ring he had taken from m/n's bedside table in november.

maybe i should give it back, he thought as he observed the pattern on the ring. as he approached m/n's bed, he began searching for a place to put the ring - on the table? inside the little cauldron? under the bed.

terry kneeled down, moving the sheet's out the way as the shoved it under neath the bunk. you know what, he called me mudblood last year, he can suffer. and with that, boot took the ring and hid it back in his pillowcase.

• terry is a denial kind of yandere, at least in this case, he justifies his actions in his mind and see's nothing wrong with what he does. stealing their stuff? friends share things all the time, stalking them? no he's just going in the same direction, manipulating them? he's sorry if they feel that way but that wasn't his intention.

• his initial dislike of the reader is what fuels his obsession, he simultaneously hates them, wants to be them and wants to be with them. terry thinks he wants the reader to become more accepting of life outside the pureblood bubble he was raised in but once he does and is able to function without the help of his dormmates, terry becomes abominably jealous.

• oh, you ate dinner all on your own without having to wait for terry and anthony to sit next to you and protect you from actual muggleborns? the audacity.

MICHAEL CORNER (fancast owen teague):

• michael is nowhere near as offended as terry, he honestly finds the readers behaviour kind of amusing if not a bit weird. but all purebloods are weird like that, besides it's impossible to hate someone with such a pretty face.

• his darling might be a bigoted blood supremacist but they're his bigoted blood supremacist. he's not as pressed about educating the reader about equality as terry he just figures that eventually the reader will fall madly in love with him and decide that true love is more important than the bloodline and then they'll have 10 babies together and live happily ever after.

• so please don't burst his bubble and act disgusted or blatantly reject his advances. michael really tries to ease his darling into his affection but doesn't really understand that going from sitting next to each other in classes is not one step below sleeping in his bed with him.

"what on merlins beard are you doing" m/n yelled as he swiftly kicked michael in the stomach, flinging the other off his bed. with an oomph, corner placed a hand on his stomach "ow, what is wrong with you" he whined, shifting to lean on his elbows, staring at m/n with a shocked expression "i should be asking what's wrong with you - have you not heard of personal space"

michael clicked his tongue, his eyes rolling "surely we've known each other for long enough to have sleepovers.. you know what a sleepover is right?" "i've never even seen your family tree and you want me to share a bed with you" m/n let out a scoff "you half-bloods are like cavemen merlin help me" he laid back and covered himself with his blanket.

blinking, michael fell silent for a moment "would you like me to get you a copy?" he finally asked, elaborating when the irritated boy muttered what from under the blanket "i'll find my family tree records and give you a copy if you'd like" he replied surely, a smile gracing his face.

m/n pulled the blanket down from covering his face, "well" he started, furrowing his brows, as if deep in thought "i guess so?"

• michael is the only one who openly pursues a romantic relationship with the reader. the darling can never tell the other two's true intentions but god damn is it obvious that michael's goal is to put a ring on it.

• even in fifth year, when he had a few girlfriends, he could. not. leave. reader. alone. literally invited his darling on his dates with ginny and then cho and made several inappropriate propositions and talked about the reader too much on the rare occasions that he was alone with any of his girlfriends which is why they all broke up with him pretty quickly.

• "m/n" "what" "cho broke up with me can you date me instead" "wtf"

ANTHONY GOLDSTEIN (fancast tarjei sandvik moe):

• anthony is intrigued by the reader the moment they sat next to him on the night of the sorting ceremony. any attempts he made at befriending his darling fell on deaf ears. so.. he couldn't help but want to take a look into his mind. and he was a natural born legilimens so it's not like his darling would notice.

• becomes protective of him almost immediately after. his darling is just so fragile and needs someone mature like anthony to make good decisions on his behalf. anthony is quick to cut off his darling from his childhood friends, so that when they got over their shock over the readers sorting, reader would be too attached to his new best friend to want them back.

• he won't let the darling out of his sight, when he studies in the library so will they, they should also take the same classes as him so he can help them with their homework. will mess with their dreams if they try to distance themself from him.

what a poor baby, anthony cooed to himself as he watched m/n from a distance. his cheeks red and tear stained as he bit his index finger, a sob escaped his lips as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

sure, anthony could have stopped riddle, nott and malfoy from shoving m/n around and calling him vile names, but then he would miss out on m/n's endearing sob session that came afterwards.

in the corner of his eye he spotted malfoy on his way back, and swiftly rushed in, hooking his arms with m/n's and dragging the other off with them "wh-" "malfoys on his way back" anthony picked up his pace "were you were watching the whole time?" m/n asked shakily. anthony pulled them both into another corridor, turning to face m/n "yes" he blinked "and you didn't do anything!" the red-faced boy choked out.

anthony smirked "you.. wanted me to come and defend you from malfoy and his goons?" his heart skipped a beat as m/n remained silent, looking defeated "no- i just- uh... i don't- i just" m/n stuttered, face flushing even redder as he stared at the ground.

• anthony infantilises his darling, treating him as a child that can't do anything right. it gets even worse in fifth year when he becomes a prefect: "dumbledore made me a prefect and not you because he knows you can barely tie your own shoelaces"

• goidsteins a lil condescending towards his darling, he exaggerates their mistakes and downplays their achievements. anything to make them dependent on his constant presence. he feels bad sometimes but when they come running to him for everything, it's all worth it ✨

• unlike other groups of yanderes *cough* the slytherins *cough*, these three don't have much of a problem sharing. they're already good friends, and aren't nearly as possesive as some yandere's (le slytherins) not to mention; at first, it's only michael who is openly pursuing the darling romantically.

• terry and anthony don't realise that they like the darling in the same way michael does until like, fifth year. sure there had been cuddling, shared showers and a bit too much emotional intimacy for 'just friends' but what can you expect from a bunch of nerds 😔✋.

• the ravenclaws foster one hell of a dependant relationship with the reader, becoming the only people he isn't nervous around, convincing him everyone else wouldn't be as understanding and his old friends hate him they want him dead so they promise to look after him in return for.. access to the l/n's private library.

• no they expect affection and loyalty back also as soon as they all graduate readers going to move out of his family home and move in with them dormmates for life right?

• no they aren't the worst yandere's not by a milestone but there's just something so suffocating about them.

• the darling will eventually be pressured into a poly relationship with the three. yes they actually ask him if he wants to date them but it's a rhetorical question it's either yes, or no and they start spiking his water with amortentia - then it's also yes.

• as ravenclaws, they realise that violence is not the answer, mind control is. disobedience, rejection, and provoking jealousy will result in the use of the imperius curse or a love potion.

[fan-goddess]

MY ANALYSIS OF THE SCENE BELOW

Gif and photo credit goes to @barbieaemond

A/N: First of all! I want to say these are personal opinions and ideas I have come up with and discussed further on! None of the things I will say are confirmed! I am merely speculating and debating theories! The start is less on topic but it gets more focused the more I talk.

I didn’t want to bother users by directly tagging but there users are there and in some cases links to their posts are added in bold. I also bolded certain quotes.

Okay, first of all I want to discuss the words they had playing when they showed this scene before we look into the scene itself. When listening to the voiceover I couldn't tell who it was who was saying the quote, but after putting on the captions I found its Larys Strong which is interesting given his character is pretty much the master of whispers. He's the man who knows everything on everyone the man behind the curtains as shown in season 1 when he manipulated Alicent to make her believe she was responsible for Harrenhals fire and therefore make her guilty enough for her to feel the need to keep Larys in kingslanding where hes at his most powerful. Why go back to Harrenhal and trust his birdies to bring him the information while he sits back when he can do the dirty work himself? That is a key aspect of his character which is why it makes the quote so noteworthy.

The quote itself though is this: The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. Even the use of camera shots which are placed while he's saying that have meaning, as when he says the enemy without its showing Rhaenyra who has lost her daughter, her son, her crown and her throne. And when he says may be fought with swords Aegon shows to be possibly mourning the loss of Jaehaerys, and it's known that after finding out about blood and cheese Aegon went on a rampage killing all ratcatchers in the city. This is showing the shots they’re showing in this line have meaning, meaning we need to take into consideration the scenes/words they show next.

The shot saying The enemy within shows Daemon walking down in a dimly torch lit tunnel somewhere underground with no real indication of where he is. Perhaps they'll play around with blood and cheese by having Daemon come with them to show them the tunnels needed to get to Helaenas chambers, but that would not make sense as it's been highly discussed how Dyana (A maid shown in season 1 who had been a victim of Aegon) would be a part of season 2 for a few episodes, so its much more likely she'll be the one guiding blood and cheese to Helaenas chambers. Though I must say I feel Dyana will most likely be punished and killed for this as she has affectively been part of a plot to kill the innocent son of Helaena. I suspect her guilt will show, and maybe Alicent or maybe even Aegon himself can see that she knows something and questions her, leading to Dyanas confession and death.

Though the scene with Aemond as Larys says is more insidious, that is what caught my eye and no doubt brought you here. We can still that the whole line as part of the reasoning for the use of that scene, as I have discussed with @/anjelicawrites and we have thought of the possibility on this being Aemond crumbling down from his usual, "Tis I the younger brother who studies history and philosophy, it is I who trains with the sword, who rides the largest dragon in the world. It is I who should be-" This is a new side of Aemond. A version of him which we beleive is him finally directly suffering for his actions in the war, AKA killing Luke and indirectly causing the death of Jaehaerys. He looks as though he is becoming something that even he said he would never become as he even says to Criston, as Anjelica mentioned to me, that the two of them were people with morals. It's honestly quite an interesting take as by having the usually stoic Aemond break down in front of this woman, the identity of whom I will talk further on later, shows even he is not safe and that no one is truly immune to the grief of war and that sacrifices must be made by all.

Now we do not know the setting in where the photo takes place but if this truly is a brothel then maybe Aemond went back to the place which truly psychologically hurt him in order to enact punishment on himself, as what punishment can really be done after what Aemond has had to go through. Torture is not an option especially since he's already had to suffer through the major damages of loosing an eye which has already permanently damaged not only Aemonds vision but his whole nervous system. There is a post where a lovely individual goes through the medical side of Aemonds injury which I shall link here for those who would like to take a further look. Going to the brothels as well could be a sign of him becoming what he hates most of all. Aegon. Aegon has always been Aemonds biggest jealousy as he has everything Aemond wants. Aegon has the title of first born son, two eyes, a valyrian wife, heirs, even an actual inheritance and yet he throws it all alway and very easily wanted to when Aegon tried to convince Aemond to allow him to board that boat to wherever he was planning to run off too (Probably Lys when you think about all the people there who have silver hair and the violet eyes.) To see Aemond slowly develop into Aegon would be almost strangely poetic to see as he becomes the epitome of what he hates and wanted most, especially when its just the worst side of Aegon he becomes and not the good parts.

Now onto the context of the scene! The way Aemond is laid on the women suggests intimacy, as he has his hair put down naturally, has his sapphire eye on pure display, and most noticeably of all is naked as the day he was born. He also has his back to the person, which to him especially given his lack of vision on his left side, means he trusts them enough to be vulnerable. People are heavily implying that Aemond is in a brothel, but when you think about how Aemond reacted to the brothel owner in the first season, who it turned out to be the woman who SA'd 10 year old him, I do not believe he would go back there willingly with that much sense of vulnerability around those sort of people. But when you think about the idea of him going back there to punish himself for his misdeeds then it cannot be ruled out as a possibility. Though someone mentioned it didn't seem right how Aemond was the one in the nude while the woman he is laying his head on is still fully dressed, which is certainly odd especially when you remember that when we got a first glimpse of the whores they pretty much walked around the room stark naked with very little clothing. Perhaps Aemond walked in with her naked and demanded she dress in clothing that was either laying about or even brought her clothes for her to wear (possibly Helaenas or even his mothers) we will not know until we watch the scene on screen.

When discussing the position Aemond is in with the woman too like I said earlier defenitely gives an idea on intimacy, possibly bordering on motherly. We know that when Aemond returns from storms end and tells his family of what he had done, 'Queen alicent went pale when she heard what he had done, crying "mother have mercy on us all." nor was ser otto pleased. "you only lost one eye" he is reported to have said. "how could you be so blind?" In the books it is said that since Aemond did kill Luke with intention to kill, he was expecting to revieve pretty much a heroes welcome. But since they changed that and make Lukes death accidently Aemond will no doubt go back to kingslanding feeling grief and regret, with maybe some happiness that he finally in his own way got revenge back for Luke taking his eye. Going back to the almost motherly seeming position he is in, I suggested that perhaps Aemond went to the brothel for a sort of motherly comfort for what he has done as Alicent almost certainly will not be giving it to him for what he has done. Perhaps he went there to get comfort from women but not in a sexual way but in an emotional way so he can feel less at fault for what he has done, even when the physical reminder haunts him daily.

Some people have suggested this to be Alicent who he is with, and whilst that makes sense given the intimacy of the position he's in it does not make much sense to me as why would he be naked with his mother. That to me is more of an Aegon move than an Aemond move. Though it was also brought up how she possibly came into his chambers at night whilst he sleeps nudes which very well could be a possibility so I've decided not to rule out that idea.

Another possible idea on who the woman is is the brothel lady from season 1 who I talked about earlier as being the one who SA’d Aemond when he was 10 years old. When looking at how other people have viewed the picture and came across a user named @/scaly-freaks who gave great insight on this topic which I shall leave a link for here. Firstly they mention how of course CSA is a sensitive topic, I want to mention that first. Though what they further talked about what how in some cases a victim can subconsciously find traits of their abusers in romantic partners (which thinking about it may be why he went for Alys given that she was a much older woman similarly to the brothel worker) or they can return to their abuser even at an older age. I won’t discuss these two points further as consideration for those who may feel triggered with this topic and so I will just say to click on the link for the post and read the rest there. Like I said about Alicent, I will not rule out this brothel woman as a possibility especially as it’s supposedly been confirm that she has filmed some nude scenes for season two. We do not know if she will be the woman in the scene, especially since in the picture the woman is seen wearing clothing, she may have filmed some general brothel scenes involving Aegon. I read another user @/lovelykhaleesiii theory about who the woman was and she said it was the brothel women and that it was her, as possibly Aegon may have taken him to the brothel to celebrate Luke’s death as we’re apparently getting scenes of Aegon at the whore house. This would make a lot of sense given the evidence shown and makes it a lot more believable as to why Aemond is in a brothel in the first place as like I had mentioned earlier it’s a more Aegon thing to do not really an Aemond act. Also a user named @/magnificentdelusionr has spoken out about how apparently the woman Aemond is with and the brothel lady share the same scar, so my belief in this being the woman has increased I’ll tell you that now. Though like I said, I will not rule her out as a possibility. The evidence for the brothel is bellow. I think this may be the most likely theory honestly given all the evidence that has been shown for her to be the one Aemond is with.

Now, this third possibility for who the woman is technically unknown as we do not know who she is. The actress from the scenes shown appears to be a dancer and the theory as it shows in the photo shown bellow is that she may have been sent by Mysaria as a distraction for Aemond. But looking at the scenes (pictures of which are shown in the twitter post down bellow) I don’t believe the scene in the top right is of Aemond and her, purely from the fact Aemond does not wear rings and the fact it looks very similar to Daemons ring. Furthermore the woman looks as though to be a younger Aemma purely from her face shape so that is why I’ve decided to rule out this theory. I will admit that it’s a high possibility that Aemond would be seduced by a dragonseed, as in my mind Aemond wants tradition of his culture. If he could’ve he would’ve married Helaena, as those are the ways of his people and the culture he cares for. He also, as was shown in the scene where Driftmarks inheritance was called into question, is seen to have a great admiration for Daemon who has married two women of Valyrian blood and has fathered technically 6 children (two of which did not survive past the womb). Aemond in my mind if the war never happened would’ve 100% been a sort of student under Daemons wing so in my mind it is not hard to imagine Aemond as wanting to mimic Daemon in his own way, that way being bedding a Valyrian woman. Yet even so when looking at the dragonseed people believe to be the woman Aemond was with I believe she plays a different part of season 2, my belief is that her role of season 2 is to be one of the dragonseeds team black or team green hunt down to try and recruit, as it was said team black went around Westeros finding anyone of dragon blood and offering them a chance of a dragon. So I do not think she is who Aemond is with.

Now the final idea on who the woman is is Alys Rivers. I have seen people freaking out over the idea of Alys changing her looks to seduce Daemon, and that is who we see in the scene shown at the top left of the twitter post screenshotted above. But that is not Alys style as there is honestly less of a chance she could get shit done with Daemon. What there is though is a chance she could use Aemond given he was younger, more naive and ultimately more emotional and needing an outlet she is happy to become to ensure her freedom. Though in context with the scene, when discussing the idea about Alys with @/anjelicawrites, she brought up the idea about Alys possibly visiting Aemond in a dream. This lead me to think about her doing this which would ultimately force Aemond to come to Harrenhal and fulfil his ‘duty’ of coming to Alys and giving her a son of pale hair. I spoke to her saying how I like the idea of Alys visiting Aemond in his dreams, as this would further the witch allegations. With the context of the scene though I believe she could put this image of a finally calm Aemond who is finally at peace with himself in his mind and make him crave that part of himself. This would ultimately force him to come to Harrenhal in the future. One thing I do want to bring up is this connection that was brought to my attention by user @/boundlessfantasy. They made the connection about Alys possibility being the woman holding Aemond in a dream since Ewan said in the interview with TGC where they discussed three scenes from season 1, that the process of killing Luke haunts his dreams possibly hinting at a dream aspect of the season. This may end up being just a sarcastic comment, but if this actually a hidden Easter egg then I must applaud Ewan for being so sneaky. There is a screenshot of the interview down bellow with the line also a link to the interview here.

We cannot see the woman’s face therefore we cannot be sure on this woman’s identity, but out of these four main theories on the woman’s identity I think this is most strongest in my opinion. Though us could very well be some random women we’ve never seen in the series before so I very much am not exoecting my theories or anyone else’s to be particularly right. I accept them all (pretty much) but am expecting pretty much for the unexpected.

Some other theories though I would like to take into consideration is the idea it’s Helaena in the picture. I do like that idea as it brings further this idea of Helaemond, a ship I do enjoy personally, especially as they hinted at the idea that Aemond was the father of Helaenas children. The clothing the woman is wearing by the looks of it does seem to be a similar shade of blue that Helaena is usually seen wearing, and there are seem similarities in the hands (this idea was brought to my attention by @/lady-phasma who has talked on this idea on their account) Though I do suggest you click on the photos bellow to see them much more up close as then it’ll be a clearer image. Helaena and Aemond have been shown to be close together so it’s no surprise if he’d want to break down and show weakness with her. It’s a very intimate position as his back is to her showing he in his own way trusts the woman, making it believable this woman could be Helaena. I haven’t made this a main theory as there are some more compelling evidence for the other cases but still I will say this theory is quite strong especially when looking at other theories like the idea the woman is Alicent.

And the final theory on who the person is which I would like to take into consideration is that the person Aemond is with is Aegon. Now I’m sorry to have to break it to the Aegmond shippers but I do believe out of all these 6 theories I’ve talked about this one is least likely. For one it’s clearly a woman who Aemond is with, given the way the body is shaped, even when we cannot see her breasts. I will admit I have seen people though speculating it’s Aegon which is why I’ve decided to mention it and discuss it. One user named @/cyeco13 has done some incredible art of what it would look like if Aegon was the person Aemond was with and I shall link it here for those who wish to go see it (I do recommend it!)

Okay, out of the six Ive decided to rank those that I believe are most believable to be the woman!

1) The brothel madam

2) Helaena + Alys (as I’m tied with these theories not gonna lie)

3) Alicent

4) The unnamed dancing dragonseed woman in the trailer

5) Aegon

This is all I really can say on the matter as there are constant new theories daily and sad to say I cannot directly talk about them all. Still send me your favourite theories I am interested in hearing and if people would like debating them with me.

[pursuitseternal]

Smut Ask! 🥵🔥

14 with Ascended Astarion x f!Durge 🩸

🎨 by @comfortyart

“Where are your manners?”

Cross-posted as “Reprimand Me:” for “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x Reader (f!Durge)

Smut Ask Prompts | Masterlist

CW: Blood, murder, hot Bhaalspawn shit, mouth play, sucking licking oral fixation, Dom Astarion, table sex, a lesson in manners

They had come quickly, a small force cloaked in shadow. Zealous remnants of the cults you had fought so hard to break. Bhaalists and Banites, cloaked in their auras of murder and reeking of death, snuck into your home, into the Palace.

You were preparing for dinner… overseeing the final touches to the latest gala your hallowed halls would host. Thankfully your silver was polished to a shine, the vases so bright, you could see every movement behind you as they crept in from the sewers, from the bowels of the city.

The biggest mistake about ambushing a Bhaalspawn in the dining room is that there are knives… everywhere. You grin, eyeing yourself in the reflection of the large vase, cool fingers curling around a dinner knife as you feel the metal heat and come to life in your hands.

Child of Murder. Bride of the Ascendant. Who would dare come to kill you? Who would dare attempt to threaten you in the seat of your power?

These idiots.

But then again, you enjoy your massacres like you enjoy fucking your Vampire mate.

Feral.

Quick

And bloody.

It's a torrent of blood, a shower of weapons you unleash on the assassins. Their death cries reverberate off the rafters. Their wild attempts to stab you, to take you down miss so magnificently, you smile. But you drink their hostility, bathe in their ire. They all fall preciously at your feet, a meal fit for a king—for the Ascendant and his Consort. By the time you’re through, there is only silence and the faint dripping of your enemies’s gore from the cream walls and gilded chandeliers. The floor is so covered with crimson, your dainty slippers squelch through it as you pull the dinner knives from their lifeless bodies and lick them clean.

The silver is cool on your tongue, the blood so deliciously warm yet. A hungry hum in your throat and you pick up another knife from a corpse and begin to clean that one in the same manner.

A smile turns your face as that warm, deep chuckle that sends shivers to your belly sounds from the door. Astarion leans against the doorpost, arms folded, eyes glinting with hunger. “Well… I was going to say you clean up nicely for dinner, my darling….” He tuts his tongue, chiding you, wagging a long and elegant finger even. “Naughty, naughty, my sweet. Someone needs a reprimand. You’ve made quite the filthy little mess, haven’t you?”

His darkened eyes scan the corpse pile, “And you didn’t even save any of the fun for me, pet. Where are your manners?” Gods, his tone is petulant and pouting, as if the massacre at his feet displeases him. You chuckle, for that growing bulge between his legs tells a decidedly different story.

Fingers lock like a vice around your wrist, pulling your knife-bearing hand to his eager pink tongue. One long, sinuous swipe licks the bloodied blade clean. “Mmm, delicious,” he purrs as he presses on the small of your back, drawing you close until your hips jut together. “When you’re all sullied and destroyed from your rampage, my darling, you know what that does to me…. You know I adore you, terribly.”

You give a low, blood-slicked laugh in your own sated throat. His hungry tongue laps down the hilt of the knife, brushing its warm, wet width over your fingers. He takes the knife from your hand and tosses it, its silver clattering somewhere in the distance. One by one, your filthy fingers are sucked in the warm wet of his mouth. That sinful tongue wriggles as he licks your hand clean, until he presses a smudging kiss on your knuckles, bending low before you in a mocking and elegant bow.

“I'll have to forgive you for being terribly rude, killing them all before I returned, at least you saved us plenty to eat.” Dexterous as ever, he makes quick work of your bodice, freeing your blood-spattered breasts. Warmer than the stick of your enemies on your skin, he turns his skilled tongue to lave your bosom, tracing the remnant spatters of your fight. “Ugh, I have to say, Bhaalist blood is one of my least favorite… acidic and muddy, polluted from bleeding so many others.”

You begin to throw him a pout, your hand gripping in his soft, silver curls as your yank him up, his tongue still hanging, lolling like a dog mid-lick.

“You seem to like my Bhaalist blood well enough… my lord…”

“That is completely different, my sweet,” he flashes you that rakish smirk that instantly floods your belly with searing need. “Yours is a vintage unlike any other… my first, my blood of choice,” he cranes against the hold you have on him to nip the skin of your throat, his breath washing down the hollow of it. “You see, I have manners, my dear. Since you’ve deprived me of the spurting blood of our enemies fresh from the kill, may I sup on all you have to offer?”

His voice is velvet command, a saccharine order that you are more than happy to obey. That murder-denched hand of yours, coated in the crimson spray drags its sticky fingers down the soft column of your neck. “You didn’t even say please…” you tut your tongue, coloring your lips crimson with a brush of fingers over your frown. “What a liar about manners…”

A growl, a bit playful with an edge of irritation, he narrows those ardent eyes at you. His breath down your throat, his lips crushing yours in a consuming kiss, and you are melting in his arms. Deep and husky, his voice rasps in your ear, that single sweet move tickles you: “Please.”

“Of course, my love,” you consent, angling your head for him to feast.

As he bites into your flesh and sucks your essence, you can’t help but ride the wave of bloodlust and victory that burns in your veins. You suck your fingers; messy, lewd pops between your lips make your love chuckle as he feeds. He can hear your tongue lapping on your own flesh, he can sense the satisfaction of the hunt as you consume from the remnants of your enemies.

Nothing could be more arousing than blood on your tongue, feasting on your spoils of battle as his lips suckle your neck. Well, perhaps one thing could enhance the taste of victory.

You draw yourself closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you, crushing you against the hard planes of his body. His breeches are softest buckskin, supple and tight, and your hand wanders up his thigh. Every line and cord of muscle presses into your palm, your touch tracking higher and higher… until you feel his cock jerk into your fingers. Astarion growls approval between his deafening swallows of your blood, and you can think of no better paradise.

It makes you burn… burn for more blood and lust. Urges overwhelm you, drives now incited by being so close to him… to smell his fragrance with every breath and savor the heat of his body through your dress. Your blinding urge is now very different than before; it is a debilitating craving for your Sire, lust for his chiseled, undulating, undead body. Your drive to dream in red with him, to pave your path in the blood of your foes and lick yourselves clean in the aftermath.

And so you both shall…

The bloom of his arousal bursts into your consciousness, your bond quivering with the taste of your own blood on his tongue. You see it as you feel it, the nails of his hands scraping their points up your thighs, the blood-sticky silk of your skirts rucking around your waist… “Precious little Bhaalspawn, hungry for blood,” his voice croons in your ear and floods your mind all at once. Your vision is clouded in red, the crimson of his eyes and the spatters of blood that cover your palace. “Or are you just… hungry?” He bends down to place a kiss on your neck, so gentle and adoring.

A gentle kiss before a rough fuck, you grin.

In a flash, he picks you up and slams your ass down on the dining table. China clatters and whatever elegant appointments had remained untouched from the invasion tumble down. Your body melts into his hard planes as he slots himself between your spreading, welcoming thighs. Hips grind, fingers yank you flush, dug deep into the curve of your ass. Gods, you can feel his cock, fully hard and throbbing with his heartbeat, nudging against your cunt. Swivel after tantalizing swivel, he humps you, dragging the sweet soft press of buckskin and his arousal back and forth over your mound.

“My my,” he croons, “you’re such a mess, all wet and dripping. Why, it’s positively everywhere.” Nails skate over flesh and fabric to where your sexes press together. He rends your small clothes, the silken gusset disintegrating with one forceful tear. And you in your impolite hunger return the favor. You find the latches of his breeches, pulling with all your might as the little brass buttons give way. Little metallic pings bounce on wood and porcelain as they land unseen.

His cock sings free, hard and flushed and demanding. Pre cum drips down your fingers as you stroke him, warm and sticky and almost as satisfying as blood. He bares his fangs in a blissed out smile, your touch eliciting a growl so deep and desirous, you’re sure the china sprawled on the table clatters again. With a roar from his throat, he sheathes himself to the hilt, mouth at your neck and hands clawed in your skin as he fucks you.

“Such improper manners, eating before everyone is served,” he chides you tauntingly as he slams into you again and again. “And look, you’ve got far worse than your elbows on the table,” a nice slap on your ass accompanies that jibe, hard enough to raise your soft flesh in the angry red shape of his hand. “Such unruly behavior for my consort… show me you know better,” he slows his pace, making you feel every inch of his length stretching you out, dragging inside you from leaking tip to deep rooted base. A hand grips at the back of your head, tangled in the blood-caked mess of your hair.

“Want me to fuck you? To seal your victory in blood? To reprimand you for such impolite behavior?” Crimson eyes roam your blushing face, glinting with hunger and alight with approval. Warm, smacking lips brush your ear. “Say please…”

It’s his turn to play the same games, and it makes your lips pout, your hips buck harder to try and coax him deeper. One of your hands splays back behind you, fisting into the table linens, bracing you as you try to grind desperately on anything you can get between your legs

“Ah, ah,” Astarion chides again, yanking back on your hair to make your gaze meet his. “Don’t be rude, pet. I won’t ask you again. Remember your manners…” his mouth travels to that sensitive spot near your ear, shivers and tingles racing down your spine as he rasps, “and say please…”

Moans tumble from your lips, the only sounds louder in the dining room are the clatters of china and silver on the table that shakes beneath you and the slap of his hips against your thighs as he fucks. It takes but a moment for him to drive you right to the edge, to the precipice of pleasure before he thrusts and stills inside you. “I haven’t heard the magic word yet, my darling,” he pants, his voice thick and sticky with blood and hunger.

Your walls flutter on his achingly hard cock, every muscle of your belly clenches with desperate need. Clenching your fangs, you curl your lips in a snarling smile. “Pleassssse.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, the praise instantly washes over you, balm to your bloodlust as he snaps his hips with abandon. The ferocity overwhelms you, your back now splayed on the table, porcelain and silver poke into your spine as he grabs your waist to keep you on the edge. Heat bursts, sticky sweet from inside your belly, a wash of arousal and pleasure as you scream for him.

Hard… deliberate… gasping… he fills you, warmth flooding our insides, painting them white as he pulses against your vice-gripping walls. His silver locks fall into his face with how zealously he’s worked to satisfy his hunger. A shaken breath from his smirking lips is your sweet reward.

And you are his reward, his prize for his exertions, his efforts to teach you your lesson in manners.

His ruinously handsome face twists into that smirk, the one that makes your walls flutter around his cock one more time as he still sits deep inside you. “And now, a polite Consort would say….” he taunts you, voice lilting and playful, a flourish of his wrist as he speaks to coax the words from your throat.

“Th-thank you…”

He gives you that grin—confident, powerful, and oh so full of shit—as he cups your blood-splattered cheek. “You’re quite welcome, my dear.”

[seineko]

diluc ragnvindr x reader

warnings: none, just fluff, diluc just raising my standards higher by the second.

happy birthday, mr husband. thank you for making me simp so hard that i can't even concentrate on studying for my semester exams tomorrow. WHAT IS THAT BIRTHDAY ART?! IT'S ILLEGAL.

the whole of mondstadt witnessed how their uncrowned king fell in love.

for them, it was like watching a romance movie, seeing how the main character slowly changed, bit by bit.

at first, the glance that was directed at you was of indifference, diluc just noting what drink you wanted as you stuttered it out from beside lisa, pushing your drink towards you before tending to another customer.

then was the look that showed acknowledgement when lisa introduced you as a junior from sumeru, who came to mondstadt to work under her. all he did was nod, sparing you a glance. nothing more, nothing less.

the next change in the way he looked towards you was something a lot of people noticed, but only one witnessed. the way he looked and acknowledged you with respect everytime you passed him, giving a small nod whenever your gazes met. the reason will always remain a mystery to the people of the city of freedom.

not to a certain cat allergic archon, though. he did not mean to pry, but who in their right mind would ignore a scene that played straight out of a novel when you happened to stumble upon it? not him, definitely.

so he watched, slowly sipping from his bottle as you patched the cat that diluc was holding, eyes blown wide with panic but hands as steady a mountain. he did not know what happened before, but it wasn't hard to guess.

though, even the bard wasn't so nosy as to look on when diluc's gaze shifted from the cat to you.

the change from respect to adoration was gradual, but not subtle by any means.

the more the time the two of you spent together, the stronger the gaze grew. it still held the respect from before, but the adoration just settled in alongside it, never to leave.

it was kaeya who got to witness the addition of absolute tenderness in his brother's eyes. he was heading back towards his quarters after a stroll with sister rosaria, that's when he noticed you both, lost in each other's embrace. so much so that even as a drunkard passed you, loudly singing, neither of you even showed a sign of breaking the hug.

the tenderness directed towards you when the hug finally broke sent kaeya back to his childhood, when his big brother had almost the same look but directed towards him. that was when he knew that the dark knight hero did not have any plans to let you go.

affection that made it's way into the eyes of the eldest son of ragnvindr was what adelinde noticed first.

the night was cold, strong winds and heavy rain hit mondstadt. she was waiting for the winery's master to come back, towel ready in hand.

soon enough, he did return but with his hand clutching onto a figure behind him, both panting heavily as their clothes dripped the water down onto the carpet.

ever the gentleman, diluc thanked her politely before grabbing the towel from her hands and leading you towards the fireplace, making you sit in front of it while drying your hair with the towel in his hands.

the head maid was about to leave but the look in her young master's eyes made her feet freeze to the ground, heart fluttering as she witnessed them shine after almost 4 years.

adelinde hoped with all her heart that you would never leave the red haired man behind before she strolled back to her bedroom.

the love that spread into his gaze was for only you to witness.

love that sent your head reeling as soon you your eyes fluttered open, still in his embrace as he slowly cupped your cheek. the small, soft smile that settled onto his face was enough to send your heart into a rampage, feeling both as if you're drowning but also as if the you took a breath of the most fresh air this world possibly had to offer, simultaneously.

the chuckle that left him when you cuddled into his embrace, hiding your face in his chest, did not make it any better.

your situation only worsened when he pressed a sweet kiss onto your head and pulled you closer, whispering;

'wish i could stay like this forever.'

this man was a hazard to your heart.

©2023 by seineko @ tumblr

[pure-oddity]

Worth the Trouble

Simon/Ghost x Mean!fem!Reader

Warnings: slightly toxic? Reader is verbally mean and ghost Def manipulates the situation so he can have the missus come see him. PiV , Smut MDNI

“Heard LTs lost it, goin around on a rampage.”

“Just about near it. Price thinks he's injured and trying to downplay it. Won't tell him much aside from ‘I'm fine’. Hell for all we know hes just got a man-cold”

“Ach, the poor bastard”

Gaz snorts and continues with the next set, Soap checks for signs of struggle or strain before continuing (a dutiful gym buddy)

“Heard he blew some recruits ear out.”

“Think he backed out entirely, can't blame him - if I weren't already knee deep in this shit I'd tuck tail and run from Ghost”

“You n me both. Well. I did always have a taste for trouble. Probably woulda sought him out and he mighta strangled me.” he muses happily imagining his Lt tossing him around.

“Surprised he hasn't already “ gaz laughs, his eyes determined through the final pushes.

Soap laughs at that, thinks his lt has gotten close once or twice.

“Don't worry much about it though” gaz grunts.

Soap meets gaz's eye, watches a bead of sweat trickle down into his hair line.

“Why not?”

“Captain says he's calling in the secret weapon. Going nuclear.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Johnny questions, thinks of what could possibly be nuclear in regards to Ghost.

“Dunno. But I guess we'll find out.” Gaz finishes, setting the bar back in place and sitting up with a groan. He gives a sniff to his shirt and audibly gags.

“Yea that's rank, you wanna hit the showers?”

“Sayin I stink Garrick?”

“Sayin we should hit the showers”

“Cheeky cunt”

Soap follows his fellow Sargent to freshen up in the shower block, a stealthy sniff to his armpit solidifying his choice in joining.

The issue of the ornery Lieutenant momentarily forgotten.

—----------

He always knew price had an easy time with the ladies, but to parade one around so freely - a young woman at that?

“Well well, did price finally let you out his basement? I knew he had a pretty bird caged away somewhere!”

He reaches out a rugged palm and his smile is all boyish charm.

“Names Soap, nice to meet you bonnie”

She doesn't respond and doesn't move to shake his hand. Her arms remain seated within pockets of the leather jacket she adorns. Just continues to chew a wad of gum, sizing him up like one would an enemy. She looks bored, mildly annoyed.

He can't feel too upset over the snuff, the ample amount of cleavage on display makes up for it.

“Not the sociable type? No problem, work with one of those - I'll break you down”

She looks at price now, who - soaps noticing - looks like he swallowed a lemon laced with depression.

“MacTavish. This young lady is not my bird - lovely as she is - but she is the solution to our problem.”

For once Soap is speechless. Realization kicking in suddenly and with a force so strong his jaw drops.

“.....is that why he's pissed?? Lads gone without a bit of pussy and he's lost the plot? “

“MacTavish”

“Just sayin! Sorry lass, don't mean to be crude” he does mean to be crude actually. He is crude, but usually he waits till the second date before parading that fact around.

“......let's just get this over with. Fuckin bullshit for you to pull me out here. again” She grosses, looking miffed.

“Right, yes. Again, I do sincerely apologize- I wouldn't if I had another option”

“You're his captain, just order the fucker to act right” She scolds him, dissaproval evident in how she sizes him up.

“Unfortunately my lieutenant is a master of malicious compliance. Sweet as sugar with me, but a menace to anyone else.”

She sighs something resigned and annoyed. He watches as she blows a small bubble and pops it with a sharp click. Her brows scrunched and nose wrinkled into a sneer.

“Are…are you actually here to - do I get something like this if I start throwing a fit?!”

He eyes the woman next to his captain as she walks past him, seemingly familiar with the layout of the building.

“MacTavish. Shut up.”

“Yes sir.”

A brief pause

“Is it cause he's a lieutenant? Do I need to be a lieutenant?”

“Give me 50 Sargent MacTavish “

“Yes sir.”

He drops quickly and works through the 50, counting quickly before springing back up and towards the direction his captain and mystery woman left. He catches up to the tail end of their conversation.

“-he won't come out”

“really. Have you tried, I don't know, kicking the door in?”

“No. A bit extreme don't you think?”

He watches as she walks to the door, examines it, and he thinks ‘no, no way’. Watches as she turns and braces herself against the doorframe and thinks ‘Oh she's insane’ as she picks her foot up and slams it back against the door with a solid thump.

She gets 4 in, he notices the damage to the door grows steadily - the odd tinge of arousal at the unhinged behavior of this woman.

Feels his stomach drop to his knees when the door is thrust open and she's dragged inside the darkness.

The door is hardly shut when the screaming begins.

His captain waits patiently while he looks towards him and the door.

His LT is loud but she's managed to be louder. He can't make much out from how fast everything is said, muffled through the slightly askew door

“-acting like a fucking toddler!”

While this isn't his particular brand of dirty talk, he supposes it makes sense for the ghost to want a heavier hand.

Too heavy, it would seem. The loud thump is jarring, enough so that he springs towards the door. Price grabs him, handles him into his side with a fierce look and a sternly mouthed ‘no’

The screaming had stopped. The silence is deafening. Johnny thinks at least one of them is dead. A woman that crazy probably wouldn't go down that easy, even against a ghost.

His body flinches when the door opens, he expects a limp hand to flop out horror movie style- heavily surprised to find the lass perfectly intact, not a hair out of place.

He peeks in the open doorway to see Ghost knelt in a way that can only be described at revenant. He sits at her feet, face pressed to her stomach while he clutches her body to him. she has a hand on each of his shoulders and glares down like an angry God.

“We'll be in the infirmary captain, he's got an infection. Stupid fuck.” She slips from Ghosts grasp with some struggle, swatting at clutching hands as she commands him “up”

Ghost, much like his namesake,rises like the dead and slinks out of the shadows of his room and into the light. He looks, oddly pleased(downright giddy) for a guy just pronounced a ‘stupid fuck’.

He watches as the fury marches towards the medbay, her hellhound shadow tight on her heels - might have even carried her if she didn't look as rabid as she did.

“Captain?”

“That's Doll, Johnny. Ghosts leash, and Simon's keeper. Try to annoy her less yea? She sends ghost after you and there'll be fuck all I can do to stop him.”

“Heard…..doll? Really? I think of a doll, I think sweet and porcelain. Not, pissy with a heavy heaping of crazy. She looks like the type to cut brake lines.”

“Yea well, just don't let her know which car is yours and you'll be fine.”

“Sure she won't just cut them all?”

He sighs, something heavy and worn.

“I'm hoping she's forgotten where we keep them.”

—-------

“Hi just him today, thanks.”

“Oh um, and you are?” Doctor Nicole has seen a lot. Hasn't seen this yet. Might see more if spouses were more common on base.

“Im his voice currently. And his brain. He's not smart enough to use either on his own to tell you about his infection. Left leg, by the way.”

“Oh well. Oh. Um. I - I'll have you hop up on the bed then lieutenant! I'll take a look and. And fix that.”

He doesn't move, stares at the woman(his voice and brain, apparently) like she's the only one in the room - in the world.

His world groans and throws her head back - he chuffs.

“Listen to the fucking doctor , on the bed. Now.”

His steps are heavy and solid as he seats himself on the edge of the bed. Thighs spread and hands limp between his legs. He looks like a hunched beast eyeing his next meal.

The doctor finds that having her keep his attention is better than having it herself.

“Well. Uh, left you said?”

“Yeah. Calf area - knife probably? Something sharp.”

“Well then, uh , lieutenant? Are you able to, to roll your pant leg up for me to see? Or is the pain too severe?” she prods gently, he doesn't respond.

“Roll up your pants.” like a marionette with strings tightly wrapped around her fingers, he moves to roll up his jeans to reveal the sickly wound.

“Oh yeah definitely an infection. Odd for you lieutenant, usually you're better at catching this.”

The woman scoffs and slumps in her seat. He leans towards her as she sends him a scathing look.

“He's a fucking man child. Threw a tantrum to get what he wanted and now he's being pampered.”

“Mhm.” The affirmation is the most sound he's made since coming in here.

“Well I'll just. I'll just get this taken care of” Nicole stumbles put, feeling like an intruder.

“ ‘Priciate that doc. Don't be afraid to make it hurt.” Her tone is tinged with sadistic hope.

“Oh I. I'd never intentionally hurt someone under my care - that's unethical “ the military may not be the most ethical, but she's damn sure going to try to be.

“Pity. He'd deserve it, letting it get this bad-willingly might I add.” She snips at him , face scrunched.

He hums something delighted, and the doctor wonders if she should order a psych evaluation. Remembers the 141 are notorious for dodging said evals and dismisses the thought entirely.

If he likes when women are mean and degrade him, that's his business.

He sits still, moving only when told by the woman in the chair who's now playing on her phone.

He stares at her intently, glares at the phone occasionally. The doctor finishes quickly, grateful that the infection was only in its earliest of stages.

“Okay so I'm prescribing a round of antibiotics, I noticed that you have an allergy to penicillin so I'm giving you doxycycline." She writes the perscriptipn down quickly, grabs a bottle stocked preemptively for cases like this.

"Take it with a meal twice a day every 12 hours until the bottle is empty. Come back within a few days just to make sure it's progressing and then again when the bottle is empty.” She types in a quick series of notes notating the lieutenants upcoming appointments.

“He'll be here. I'll make sure of it” there's a bitter edge to the woman's words, the doctor wonders how anyone could stand to be with someone so angry.

“God I hope you do” ghost groans out, threat either going over his head or straight to his crotch.

The doctor flinches, forgetting the lieutenant capable of speech.

“Well thanks for the help. I'll be getting him back to his captain.” the woman hops up and walks towards the door.

“Oh uh, have a g-good one!”

She smiles politely, drops it quickly when she eyes the once again silent wraith behind her

“Let's go, it would be rude to make your captain wait.”

He nods and follows along after her, like a deformed elongated shadow.

An odd couple, the doctor muses. But not the oddest she's seen. Not even the weirdest.

Another soldier bursts in, she hears the words ‘snake bite’ and ‘penis’, wishes she was stuck back with the ghost and his guide.

—-------

“You alright then, lieutenant? Everything sorted?”

“Affirmative sir. I've got the prescription, doc cleaned me up and changed my bandage. “

“Good. Thank you for coming, Doll.”

“He only acts like this because you let him, you know.”

“I do. But sometimes it's easier to go along the path of least resistance. Trying to argue with a stubborn mut, or handle the fury of his actual commanding officer? I'll take you anyday love.” He finishes with a purr, noting the sudden tenseness in Ghosts shoulders.

“Careful, might put thoughts in a girl's head if you keep talking like that.” She notices too, but eggs the poor lieutenant on - smile a touch cruel.

“Oh? That all it takes? Not a fan of Mactavish then?” semi-joking now. He'd be a liar if he said having a pretty woman snark up at him didn't effect him at all.

“Prefer waking up with mouthful of English breakfast personally. Speaking of-” She turns towards ghost, her face still cold and indifferent as always.

“I'll be in your room. I'll only be here another hour and then I'm gone. Why don't you see if your captain can find it in his heart to dismiss you early”

She smiles something sharp and sinful, takes off in a run that makes Ghost body jolt - he looks like a junkyard dog choking himself on the end of his lead trying to get a bone just out of reach.

“Captain. May I be dismissed.”

“Well-”

“Captain.”

“Simon”

“Captain price, may I please be dismissed, sir”

There's a desperate edge john isn't used to. Something rabid, something hungry. A darkness kept caged wriggling through iron bars.

“dismissed, lieutenant “

The ghost breaks off into a sprint, and the hunt is on. Price can't think too much about how it ends, his trousers already too tight at his twinge of interest.

Similar shades of fucked up, the both of them.

—----

He's panting in your ear, groaning as his hips slap against and bruise your ass.

“fu-fuck. Come on, give it to me. Show me you're- fuck! Show me you're worth all the fuckin trouble - Oh god, simon!” You can't help but scream, hope he doesn't have neighbors.

His pace is mind-numbingly good, making up for the dry start in the beginning. Prepped just enough to fit him but not enough for the ache to be avoided. But he knows your body thoroughly , and with a few well aimed thrusts and a circles of your clit you're dripping down your own AND his thighs.

A mess on his bedsheets - he thinks of it as a present for later, you think you spoil him.

He fucks you like an animal, unhinged and hurried- like he's worried you'll get up and leave, worried you'll realize he's not worth the trouble.

He pins you further under his weight and changes the angle - groans at your wail of ecstasy .

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You - you better not pull this shit again. I - I let you keep this fuckin job -please don't stop- let you play hero but -oh god, oh god - but don't-”

You gasp, moan something pained and drawn out as you come again along his rigid cock - muffling a scream into his pillow as he grinds up into the sensitive spots in your cunt to draw your orgasm out further.

“k-keep this shit up toy soldier, see how quick I put you back in the box!” You snarl , glaring at him over your shoulder. He groans deep and slams as deep as he can, unloading against the deepest parts of your hole.

He's still hard when he slips from you, wrangling you onto your back before slipping back in. Your legs fit nicely on his shoulders, and you're grateful for your flexibility.

You scoff. “can't cum lookin at a skull , switch to another one or take it off - might have a chance of getting me off then” you wonder how mean he'll be, wonder if he'll actually stop to find a different mask.

Dont have wonder long as he's quick to throw the whole thing off. The black grease around his eyes is streaked from the sweat - hair plastered to his forhead. He looks happy to see you.

“not - not bad! Might be worth all this after- after-after!” You buffer aloud. Like a skipping record, you'd be humiliated if it didn't feel as good as it does.

In fact. You should be mad at his constant interruptions, but he's persistent on fucking through your cunt and into your brain.

“Tell me. Tell me dolly. Tell me sweet heart. I'm worth the trouble, yeah? I'm your trouble right? Gonna keep coming back, keep coming on my cock?” He says it like he doesn't exist somewhere in your rib cage nearest to your heart. Like you don't already live in his.

“Yes, yes!” You promise, the one you will die before you break.

“Yes what?" He implores, a steady chant of 'keep me, keep me, keep me' running through his head.

“To all of it you fuck! Yes! All mine, my cock, my headache, my brute - fuck!” your own mind proclaiming that you'll keep him 'forever, forever, forever"

You're crying now, overstimulated tears as your thighs quiver on his shoulders.

“Yeah. Yeah. All yours, n' you're mine. All fuckin mine. Not Prices and not fuckin Johnnys” he snarls, bitter and possessive.

“Gotta act up, gotta cause a mess. Can't get you here otherwise. “ he continues, pace consistent to further along your impending ruin.

It's getting hard to keep up with the banter. Hate how he's still capable of talking while you're becoming goo.

“J-just fuckin wait till you're off deployment! Fuck!”

“Nu-uh, get too tight n mean when I do. Have to drag you here to give you your fix so you're sweet when I get home. You're my sweet girl right?” He coos mockingly.

You don't respond. too busy clawing red ribbons into his back.

“Right?” He punches your cervix now, enough to make you choke and bite into the meat of his shoulder.

You bite hard. Harder when he moans. You lick at the indents and nose into the hammering pulse at his neck.

You can tells he's close with how his tempo gets thrown off, how his huffs louder. Having forgiven him for making you drive all this way, you give the dog a well earned bone.

“Yours, your sweet girl. You just need to work for it a bit hm? You don't mind huh big guy? My big guy?” You whisper into his ear, whine into it in a way you know drives him crazy.

He comes with a shout, one you know the whole fucking base heard. You're too fucked out to care much, especially when the brute lakes down and settles his weight on you with a contented sigh.

He hums, a touch demanding and you roll your eyes. You rub a hand gently up and down his torn back, scratching gently at his scalp to feel his heavy sigh of contentment.

“You gonna take care of yourself now? Got everything out your system?”

He hums, tone non-committal - fucker. As long as price has your number, as long as the ghost stays restless - you'll be called in eventually. Not a matter of 'if', but 'when".

Thankfully you don't mind being the nuclear option. Not much anyway. Especially if this is what it gets you. A moment of peace, skin pressed against skin - soft breaths evening out against your collarbone.

'Yea', you think. 'He's worth the trouble.'

(End notes: the thump that was heard was actually Simon falling to his knees. Dude goes from 0-100 when it comes to love so he either ghosts(hehe) you or worships you.)

[iwahajii]

let the rain take it

Ushijima couldn't make you stay.

//

Staring blankly at the front door, Ushijima wondered whether he'd be able make the right choice if given another chance.

He thought about what he'd do if time would turn back even for just a second because you slammed the front door just a second ago and now his world seems to be crumbling down while he stands frozen in place.

Was he wrong?

Was it a mistake to let you go when you could be with a man who would understand you, care for you, and cherish you better?

Was it wrong for him to want what's best for you even if it costs breaking your hearts?

Ushijima knows his limits the same way he knows his strengths; vivid, clear and familiar like the back of his hand.

Relationships, unlike volleyball, didn't simply require physical strength, stamina and logic. It demanded more from him, things he wasn't sure he could give and things he wasn't sure he even has in the first place.

After the short-lived relationships he had, all of them ending with "I'm sick of trying to love someone who can't love me back", he tried to steer clear of any romantic relationships because maybe they're right. He can't love other people and he doesn't know how to love other people.

But then he met you and by some miracle, stayed with him for almost three years.

Until tonight.

It was only at that point that he blinked, waking up from the slumber your departure induced.

He felt it then.

The splitting, aching, twisting pain in his chest that bloomed and spread until he was visibly shaking. He tried to breathe, tried to calm whatever rampage is going inside his chest when he realized there was wetness in his cheeks.

I don't need you.

The words felt like bullets shot straight to his heart, leaving him breathless as more tears flowed down his cheeks.

It was him who wanted to believe he didn't need you. It was him who wanted to convince himself that he didn't need someone to ask how his day went, that he didn't need someone to worry about him, that he didn't need someone who would accept him for who he is.

He took your affection in exchange for cold treatment and neglect, pushing and taunting until you break your own promise to love him no matter what.

I don't need you.

They were the last words he said to you before you left.

It was the biggest fucking lie Ushijima ever said.

Before he realized what he was doing, Ushijima found himself outside of his apartment, one foot shoeless as he scrambled after you.

He could hear how loud his heart was beating, how cold and stiff his limbs were from the nerves.

The red arrows pointing down in the elevator seemed to laugh at him as the number 2 repeatedly flashes. He runs for the stairs, skipping steps as much as he could. Everything was a blur until he throws himself out onto the street. He looked around, his eyes quickly scanning the vicinity but the rain was making it harder to see under the streetlights.

He shoves his hands in his hair, panic and despair settling down in his gut. There were already people looking at him, whispering by themselves but he didn't care.

He heads for the station, knowing you'd have to take the train to get to your apartment, and it was just in time that he sees you turn the corner.

Ushijima ran like his life depended on it, because as much as he denies and hides, it was the truth he was scared to face.

When he shouts your name, it was hoarse and raw as though it took all his strength to speak.

You barely just turned around before he was pulling you towards him, his shaking arms wounding around your frame.

"I'm so sorry," he tells you as he pressed his lips on the top of your head.

He could feel your body shake as you let out a sob he'll remember for the rest of his life. Taking your face in his hands, he lost count of how many apologies he whispered and sealed with his lips on your skin.

"I'm so tired, Toshi."

His heart shatters and air whooshes out of his lungs like he just received a spike in his abdomen.

"Please," he cries, trying his hardest not to fall apart.

He could feel you shake your head, could feel the tiny push you gave to pull away from him. "I don't want to fight anymore. I can't- Please, Toshi..."

"We won't. I promise," Ushijima cuts in, his voice surprisingly firm. "I'll try. We will work this out. We can work this out, right?"

"Please," he begs again and this time, he falls to his knees, strength leaving his body for the first time in his life. He felt so weak, utterly pitiful because he couldn't protect the only thing he should've protected in the first place.

He wanted to tell you so many things, words scrambling in his head but they wouldn't come out.

I was just so scared. I was scared by how much I needed you, how much I cared about you, how much I wanted you. I never cared for anyone else as much as I cared about you and it scares the hell out of me because I never felt this way with anyone else. Only you. Only with you.

Ushijima could feel the hand he was holding tremble and he gives it a light squeeze, urging you to look at him.

I am enamored by you. I yearn for you. With you, it felt like everything fell into place and I was just so scared so I pushed you away and hurt you.

He watched as your tears mix with raindrops, drawing short, shaky breaths to try and steady yourself. The grip you had on his hand is tight, enough to make him feel something, anything other than the void that grows inside him every second now.

"I think it's right that we let this love go, Wakatoshi. Losing myself once because of my love for you is enough and I am grateful you showed me that."

With your lips pressed softly against his, you whispered, "I will always love you, Wakatoshi," before you took a step back and turned.

He watched as you walked away and the only thing he could do then is let the rain take his tears and words away.

Please, don't leave me.

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Two - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One! Masterlist :)

Chapter Two - Boys and Their Toys

After another drink or two, chatting with Juniper from Atmosphere Aces and Willow from your team, you finally stood from your seat and put a $50 on the bar then walked out the front door of the Dust Devil and headed across the street to the Twister Trail Motel. The whole town of Prairie Winds was practically based on it being in tornado alley and being the main place storm chasers would stop while out chasing.

As soon as you were a few steps away from the front door, you heard it open again and footsteps behind you, a small part of you hoped it would be Tyler. 

“(Y/n)!” The voice called, it not being Tyler. 

You turned around to see Finn, the camera guy and driver for your team, the Storm Riders. 

“Hey, Finn! What’s up?” You asked, him stepping up beside you. 

“I was just curious as to what’s goin’ on with you and Owens, I saw you both get kinda close while dancing and then again while at the bar,” he started to ramble, one of his classic traits when he was drinking, “I just worry about you, since you’re like a big sister to me and we’ve known each other since you were in high school and I was in middle school, I would just hate for your heart to get broken by some idiot cowboy.” 

“Finn. Finn,” you tried to interrupt.

“I don’t think I could live with myself if he hurt you and I didn’t try to stop something from happening. Your parents would kill me as they made me promise to keep you safe out here,” he kept going. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, putting your hands on his arms. 

“FINN,” you said sternly, jolting him out of his rampage. 

“W-What?” He stuttered while catching his breath, you both realized he hadn't taken a breath that whole time. 

“I will be fine, he just wants to take me out to dinner tomorrow night,” you said, dragging Finn to your side while walking to the motel, “I know you feel like it’s your job to protect me, but you need to remember that I am a few years older than you and know how to handle myself.” 

He sighed, “I know, I just would hate for you to get heartbroken again…” 

You stopped in the middle of the road and pulled Finn in close. He was one of the only people you trusted back in your early 20s. He was one of your go-to people, aside from your best friend Willow, whom you went to after your breakup with Derek who you had been with for almost five years. He had moved to New York to go to college and after a week of hardly talking to one another, the girl he was cheating on you with slipped up and accidentally tagged him in a post of them kissing on Instagram. The next day you sent everything he owned to his college dorm including the heart necklace he gave you for your birthday the last year you were together, along with a very long letter on tear-stained paper that you had written the night before while your heart was breaking with every word you wrote. 

“I will be okay, Finny,” you said, rubbing his back, “I’ll let you know if anything goes wrong or he does something stupid.” 

“Promise, (Y/n/n)?” He asked, holding out his pinkie finger. 

You linked your pinkie with him, “I promise. Now go back into the bar and have some fun, it’s forecasted for clear skies the rest of the week.” 

“You got it!” He said, pulling you into an embrace one last time before running back into the bar. 

You laughed and shook your head, then turned and walked back to the motel. Before heading up the stairs outside of your room, you decided to stop by your blue F-350 dually truck that was parked right next to Tyler’s red Ram 3500 dually. You pressed the unlock button on your key fob, the headlights shining brightly across to the bar. Earlier you had already brought your suitcase to your room, but you wanted to double-check that you had everything extra that you picked up in Thunderbird Bluff, the last town you were in. 

While digging under the seats you grabbed onto a cloth object, pulling it out becoming confused as all your clothes were in your suitcase. You held it up in the dim lights provided by the motel to see a tornado, the red truck you were parked next to, and a cartoon face of Tyler on the front of the shirt, the words being “not my first tornadeo” across it. 

You threw the shirt over your shoulder and smirked remembering Dani giving it to you after you got caught in an EF3 with your shirt getting torn off as you were on your way back from a smaller wedding in a field for Jade and Tristan, both members of Storm Riders. 

After shutting the truck doors, you locked it and turned toward the stairs, only to be startled by Tyler leaning against his truck with his cowboy hat in his hands. 

“Mighty nice of you to blind half the bar with those pretty headlights of yours,” he said, using his hat to gesture to the front of your truck. 

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, your hand covering your mouth, “Oops.” 

He chuckled, “I figured I’d come out to make sure you weren’t skippin’ town on me after I asked you out.”

“Even if I did, Owens, you’d find me one way or another,” you stated, walking over to the stairs. 

“Like my saying goes, sweetheart,” he started, “if you feel it.” 

“Chase it,” you said, going up a few steps to the first landing. 

“See, you’re gettin’ it,” he said, leaning against the stair railing and looking up at you, “Is that one of the Tornado Wrangler shirts?” 

You hoped he wouldn’t see that, but he snatched it off your shoulder to hold it up. 

“It was the only option I had after Jade and Tristan’s wedding,” you said, rubbing your forehead as you were starting to get tired and just wanted to head to your room, “You can have it, I don’t think it would look good if I wore a rival team’s shirt.” 

“But darlin’, you’d look good in my shirt,” he said while smirking and holding it up to your figure. 

“Very cheesy,” you said, walking up the stairs farther. 

“What do you say about tomorrow afternoon?” He asked, folding the shirt up and tossing it up to you. 

“I’m sure I’m free, most of the team will sleep until mid-morning due to the hangovers they’ll get from tonight,” you laughed, gesturing over to the bar where the music was still blaring. 

“Same with the wranglers, except Dexter, he snuck out the back and headed to bed an hour or so ago,” he said, laughing, “You know how those scientists are.” 

“Yeah, I’m surprised Tristan and Sage from Atmosphere Aces are still partying it up,” you said, leaning over the railing and looking down at Tyler. 

“Maybe we can get breakfast in the morning?” He asked, “Down at JoAnn’s Whirlwind diner…” 

“I’d like that, they have the best apple pie in the county,” you said, smiling, “Should we take Lil Blue here or are we takin’ Ol Red?” 

“How dare you think I’d be caught dead in a Ford, darlin,” he chuckled, “I won’t go anywhere without Ol Red.” 

“As I figured, boys and their toys,” you giggled to yourself, turning around and unlocking the door to your room. 

“What was that little lady?” He asked, putting his hat back on and putting his hands on his hips while shifting his weight to one side.

“I said goodnight, Tyler,” you said, tossing the bag of necessities on the queen bed you had all to yourself. 

“I don’t think that was it,” he said, shaking his head, “But I’ll let it slide this once, (Y/n).” 

“Like you would do anything otherwise, Ty,” you said as you leaned over the railing one last time before heading inside. 

“I’ll have you be aware that my truck is not a TOY,” he stated, shifting his weight to his other hip, “It’s a tornado-wrangling machine!” 

You laughed, “Mhmm, sure it is.” 

“Goodnight beautiful,” he said, looking up at you and giving you a wink. 

“Goodnight, Tyler,” you said, “I’ll see you at JoAnn’s.” 

“It’s a date,” he said with the biggest smile you’ve seen on the man in quite some time. 

You turned around and walked into your motel room, shutting and locking the door behind you, pressing your forehead to the cool door, smiling and giggling to yourself. While not really believing that you would be going on a date with Tyler Owens, who was basically the biggest heartthrob of the storm-chasing community and most likely all of Tornado Alley. Just thinking about tomorrow and what it held sent tingles down your spine and butterflies around your stomach.

Want more? Here's Chapter Three!