#i hate to think he's going to die or be otherwise taken out of the game before that changes

[woman-respecter]

I honestly hate how people act like only men can be too ashamed or embarrassed to speak out about sexual assault or domestic violence. I just keep going back to the author of why does he do that, he said “women crave dignity just as much as men” and idk I feel like people pretend otherwise

I’m not saying this isn’t a barrier to men but anyone saying “rates of violence against men are higher because they don’t come forward” is insane to think that’s not true of women too

yeah, absolutely. i hate mras pretending that women’s sexual assault is taken more seriously than men’s because it’s not the case. i think it’s bc they see women being victimized as par for the course, while they are more disturbed by male victims (in the cases where they don’t like. mock them. which they do) bc they see men as more deserving of dignity than men.

also i doubt that rates of *sexual* violence is higher against men. yes more men die of homicide but that’s usually men killing other men in conflict.

[libraryraccoon]

So I got this idea of an Idia Reader who is an overlord (making some high tech prosthetic or another things that Vox himself can’t make easily) and forced to go attend an overlord meeting and imagine the panic attack he would have if Alastor or worse Valentino interacted with them.

Probably locks themselves in a their room for three months after the meeting.

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message of Raccoon : I can just imagine Vox and Idia!Reader being two bestfriends that have rivalry for fun.

Info : Idia!Reader being an overlord in the Vees.

General Headcanon

You were one of the Overlords of the Vees.

But compared to the others, you didn't like the attention.

The recluse of the Vees, that's who you were.

You hated leaving your room, preferring to use your tablet to see/talk with others.

But one day, you were forced to show up at one of the Overlords meetings. Irl.

When you entered the room, all the overlords asked you who you were.

"Who are you ?" -Carmilla.

"The one who almost doxxed all of you. Idia!Reader." -you, already wanting to go back to your room.

It was the first time they saw you, like really saw you. Not through a tablet, but irl.

You sat between Rosie and Alastor, a mistake.

The two kept talking and adding you into the conversation. You wanted to die again.

They were nice and polite, yes, but you didn't like socializing. You preferred solitude and calm to having to socialize.

You regretted having taken this place instead of putting yourself next to Zestial, who is calm and silent.

"Oh ! Did you hear about what Jack did ?" -Rosie.

“No, what did he do ?”-Alastor.

"He fucked his wife's sister, then ate the said sister. His wife found him and then ate Jack." -Idia!Reader.

If there was tea, it would have been perfect.

Carmilla give you a look that can be translated as "Good luck, we're not together."

You will doxx her later as punishment for not helping you.

The meeting was pretty good, except for the moment you had to talk and socialize.

Your social anxiety suffered greatly during this meeting.

When you entered the Vees tower, you wanted to go to your room but the others Vees stopped you.

Valentino and Velvette congratulated you for coming out of your shithole room.

But you know what was the worst ? When Vox saw you, he asked why you had placed yourself next to his enemy, Alastor.

Vox gave you an hour-long lecture on why what you did was wrong.

You just wanted to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of the eternity.

But you couldn't.

Why ? Because Rosie and Alastor have come for you.

Apparently you have become their friends, without your consent.

Once a week you had to go out and spend time with Alastor and/or Rosie.

And you couldn't even run away because the two always know where to find you.

You are gossip friends. I will not accept otherwise.

You have the pass to touch Alastor. You use it to touch his ears because DEER EAR !!

You do the same with his tail, because DEER TAIL !!! (He tries to hide his tail from you)

I headcanon that you have a picture with you, Rosie and Alastor on it.

Let's pretend you were there during the meeting about the angel.

…

Carmilla paid you $3000 (or whatever the money is in hell) for not talking about her killing an angel.

You took the money before telling to Rosie and Alastor everything.

If she ever finds out, you're dead, but don't worry, it was worth it.

I headcanon that your hair (or at least a part of your hair) is made of fire, and that the Vees, Alastor and Rosie want to touch it.

Alastor and Rosie love seeing your hair changing its colors depending on your emotions, it always betrays you and they find it amusing.

Alastor using the Aromantic charm on you to see you get frustrated and see your hair changing its color is canon.

Alastor has already brought you to the Hazbin Hotel..

When I say that you said what you thought out loud and you were brutal with your words, I don't think you realize how much that was-

You were banned from the hotel by Vaggie while Alastor was just watching and laughing.

You felt hurt, betrayed by your friend.

“Oh yeah, that’s how it is now, every man for himself.”

[charlottes-diary-entries]

HELLLOOO :) could I request a wolfstar x reader where there’s an upcoming exam that r is super stressed about and how the boys would help or comfort them? (This is indeed self indulgent bcuz I’m stressin for finals 😭)

oh my god darling, i'm aware this is two MILLION years late, but i fear i was ALSO stressin for finals :( i hope all of your exams went completely swimmingly and if they didn't then here is a little comfort for the start of your summer <3

"academic avalanche" poly!wolfstar x reader, very fluffy, mostly comfort

This was it. You'd considered it might come to this, but today seemed to make it official. You were now living, to eventually die, and then rot forever, beneath a wall of books in the library that completely obscured you from view. It was ridiculous. One gentle breeze and you'd be a victim of an academic avalanche.

As you once again desperately tried to cram information about the giant wars of the 19th century into your brain, tears began to slip down your cheeks. Hopelessly, you thumped your head against the horrid tome before you and let the tears fall. Hiccups and sobs also began to escape before you could stop them, and soon enough, you were trying as hard as you could to break down quietly as to not disturb the peace of the library.

They would write your name and death date on your gravestone, paired with the phrase, "Killed by History of Magic."

"Dovey?"

At the sound of a familiar, endlessly comforting voice, you wished you could pull yourself together and only fell apart more. A miserable moan left you from your place faceplanted in the evil textbook.

"Is that you tucked away there, darling?"

One of the shorter stacks was shoved aside before the voice cooed and you were suddenly shoved by an overly-aggressive hug. The voice chided your attacker with a quiet, "Sirius..." but was ultimately ignored as you were squeezed within an inch of your life.

"What have they done to you?" Sirius pulled you upright and gasped at the tears that still flowed down your face. "Scratch that, how did we let you hole up here like this?! Oh, dovey..."

You hiccupped through another sob as Sirius shushed you, pressing kiss after kiss all over your face in attempt to cheer you up.

"I think-" You began, "I think this exam is going to kill me. Actually kill me, I can't do this."

Remus perked up from where he had begun to deconstruct your cavern of books. "Alright dove, it's okay. Why don't we take a break, hm?"

This only served to upset you more as you moaned, flopping completely into Sirius's arms. Frustration only continued to bubble up and out of you as Sirius cradled you.

"I've got to pass this exam. I think I'm going to fail otherwise and I can't fail. I hate this stupid professor, I hate History of Magic, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"

Sirius cooed and pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you tighter. "I think passionate declarations of hate are a pretty decent sign you're due for a break. Just a little one love, and then we'll help you study after, yeah?."

"I second this plan, besides," Remus said, now a little sheepish, "we've missed you dove."

"Missed them! Missed them, he says!" Sirius scoffed, "You've been holed up in here for nearly a week and your absence has actually taken a toll on our health! I swear, I've never felt so sick as when you're stuck studying!"

At this, you sniffed and smiled a little up at Sirius, who only grinned down at you, allowing himself to kiss your forehead.

"Starting to feel better now, though."

You giggled and Remus rolled his eyes fondly, having now successfully returned most of your books to their respective shelves. Sirius then easily pulled you up and you didn't have the energy to resist. Now with you on your feet, he began to speak before you were tugged away from him and into Remus's bone-crushing hug.

Whatever dramatic protest at you being stolen from him died on Sirius's lips as he watched you deflate even more in your boyfriend's arms. A few more tears rolled down your face as he joined the hug.

"C'mon dovey," Remus said as he eventually pulled away, leaving his hand tightly entwined with yours, "let's all go cuddle for a bit, yeah?"

You nodded and let him pull you along, Sirius attaching himself to your unoccupied arm. You continued to hang off them as they walked you back to their dorm feeling endlessly grateful for their ability to carry the weight of the conversation on their own.

There was something indescribable about the comfort that came from Remus holding you on his bed with Sirius on your other side telling you both about some muggle band he loved. You felt loved. Completely surrounded by love, actually.

And exam be damned, there was no where you'd rather be.

this isn't very long, but i hope you enjoyed love! <3

[6okuto]

3:08 PM

gojo x gn!reader | he’s NOT on the battlefield he is somewhere being whiny and dramatic RIGHT NOW. no one can tell me otherwise.

gojo stares at you from his spot on the couch, a pout etched on his face as you continue to type away at an assignment due in more than a week. something due 10 whole days away has taken priority over him—he pouts even harder at the thought.

“i can feel you staring at me, satoru.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“mhm.”

there’s only a few minutes of silence when your phone suddenly vibrates. without sparing it a glance, you switch between tabs, trying to find a specific quote for your answer. satoru huffs from behind you, and another notification comes in.

“y’gonna check that?”

“check what?”

your phone vibrates again.

“that.”

and you’re not dumb. you have a feeling your boyfriend is very aware, probably even more aware than you about what that notification could be.

“no?”

it vibrates again.

“are you sure?”

another.

“pretty sure.”

and after a couple of seconds, another.

“…actually, you know what, ‘toru,”—you pick up your phone, and satoru sits up ever so slightly, before you swipe down the bar to turn on do not disturb—“you’re right.”

“babe,” he drags out the pet name, “what if it was important?”

“and what if it was my classmates being idiots in the group chat again?”

“it’s not!”

at his denial, you spin your chair around, an accusatory—yet amused—expression on your face. “and how would you know?”

“because no one else is working on an assignment due in more than a week on a saturday afternoon except you, because apparently i’m dating the biggest nerd ever,” satoru complains, letting himself slide half off the couch, leg thrown over the top.

putting your hand over your chest, you gasp. “the biggest nerd ever? you wound me.”

“you wounded me first when you downloaded that assignment pdf instead of checking my texts!”

“well now i’m never opening that text from you.”

“why no—” he stops, and you stare, and he squints and quietly replies, “…i hate you.”

a lie through and through that finally gets you to laugh, just a little, before picking up your phone, where a photo of the both of you greets you as your lockscreen. “i’m kidding, ‘toru. but seriously if it’s something stupid i’m going to the library.”

“nothing i send you is ever stupid.”

you shake your head and go to open your messages. “i’m not even going to try to argue with you on that.”

GOJO sent you a post

babe

ME!

Notification noise

buzz buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzz

EMERGENCY!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

your lip twitches when you read “notification noise” but you hide it with the back of your hand, instead clicking the video he sent.

you think maybe it won’t be that bad—the thumbnail a photo of a white cat—and satoru watches you intently when he hears the audio start to play. ”top ten things you should pay more attention to. starting with number one—me.”

you blink.

the video loops.

“top ten things you should…”

“seriously, toru?”

“c’s get degrees. satorus need constant attention or they’ll die.”

you snort—maybe you’d take him more seriously if he wasn’t practically upside down.

“they’ll die! i’ll die! do you want me to die?”

“not on my couch, no.” you respond, standing up.

“oh, alright, apologies, my heart, for not taking your feelings into consideration. i’ll die on your laptop so you’re forced to face the consequences of your actions more directly then,” he says, sarcasm rolling off of him in waves, even as you make your way toward him.

“oh, thank you so much, my love, i’d greatly appreciate it.” you huff as you do your best to pull him back up to lie on the couch.

satoru lies on his back, arms crossed over chest, strands of hair messy across his forehead.

he says nothing as you stand above him.

yet despite his attitude, he lets you run your fingers through his hair to fix it, leaning in ever so slightly into the warmth of your palm. you pout at him endearingly. “okay, you’re right, i can work on the assignment later. i’m sorry for not giving you attention and ignoring your texts.”

“and?”

you quirk an eyebrow, trying to rack your brain for what else you could have done. “and…implying you could ever send me something stupid?”

“…apology accepted.”

“can i lie down with you now?”

satoru shifts as far as he can. “as long as my back is to the couch so you can’t push me off.”

“woah, woah, woah, okay, that was an actual accident, and you already accepted my apology for that! i even ordered food,” you remind him, maneuvering beside him so you can fit and wrap your arms around his torso.

he pulls your head to rest on his chest. “doesn’t mean i can’t stay on guard from now on.”

“oh, whatever,” you mumble, breathing in and noting the scent of his new cologne that he got a few days ago—the one he got because you said you liked it.

a hand comes up to rub the nape of your neck, and you melt further into him. satoru mutters, ”you’re not leaving until dinner now as compensation.”

“what if i have to pee?”

“i’ll follow you to the washroom.”

“inside?”

“you wanna hold hands at the doorway?”

“not particularly, no, actually.”

“maybe romance really is dead.”

you laugh into the fabric of shirt where you can feel his chest rumble with his own laughter, and your heart flutters as you feel satoru smile against you. he's warm, and his lips soft as they kiss your forehead, when you think maybe your work can wait a few days to really start.

hai. sometimes a girl has to write a bunch of domestic fluffy banter. who gets me. video cat is gojo catoru in another life btw... Trust. also im pretty sure this is the first time i get to use my jjk taglist. LMFAO

🏷 | @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife

[theinheriteddutchess]

Out Of Time

Pairing: Ari Levinson x reader

Summary: You hate Ari. It's not a secret to him. Your father died protecting you, and you would die to protect your bother. But he's waited almost 10 years, time's running out, and he won't let you go that easily.

Word count: almost 2400

Warnings: threat of death, Ari is a jerk, mentions of previous death, werewolf Pack have different rules and morals, yandere!Ari, nothing explicit

Notes: randomly started writing this a while ago, found out I actually liked it. Might make more if I get inspiration, but I will follow where the wind blows me, so until then it's a stand alone. Would love to hear if you like it, reblog ,comments, ask. I don't bite (only Sebastian Stan's butt is under threat).💕

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It was a mistake. He didn't deserve to be punished so severely. He was only a little boy.

But rules were strict in this pack. You behaved, or they made you behave. Still, death seemed to be too harsh for an nine year old. He had taken the mating necklace. But he was not thinking further than trying it, having admired it from a distance. He probably hadn't known what it was for, because Ari hadn’t used it yet. But it was sometimes talked about. Something the pack Alpha owned. He had just been looking up to his Alpha. Wanting to be like him.

You didn't feel the same way about Ari. You knew all about the rules. And Ari had proven to follow them strictly. That's how he killed your father. 

You never looked at him the same. 

You were repulsed by your mother, who kept telling you Ari had been young and still needed to establish his position. 

He had been young. Twenty-two. Young for a pack Alpha. But he had always been strong. He had challenged the previous leader, Andy, who had been gentler. Andy was kinder in his approach, gave a little more leeway. It had cost him though. Ari had been coming off his rut, full of adrenaline, and Andy had let his guard down. Before you knew it, there had been a fight and soon Andy laid lifelessly on the ground. 

Ari was Pack leader, and he wasn't as kind. He made it clear he demanded absolute obedience. And his height, as well as the weight in muscle he carried around, oozed dominance which most wolves didn't dare challenge.

Your father had soon been killed after. He had tried to shield you from the cruel Alpha and it had cost him his life. Still, his death did protect you. It was honorable to not pursue you after. And in your mind the last mate you wanted to have was him. 

Your mother mated again with someone else, too soon for your liking, and Mico was born shortly after. Life had to go on, even if you silently resented it.

But now your brother was to be put to death. And terror swept through you as you raced to reason with Ari. You had little hope you would get through him. But you had to try.

As you halted in front of his den, you breathed heavily. You tried to calm your racing heart, tried to gather your thoughts. You needed to be calm. 

You stepped inside, and waited at the entrance, if you got in any further you would have a big chance to be punished yourself and then your brother stood no chance.

“I expected you would come.” It sounded from further inside. You couldn't see him yet. The shadow shielding him effectively. 

“He's my brother. Of course I would.” You replied. You kept your eyes on the ground. It was a sign of respect, but mostly you did it because his face disgusted you. You didn't know how you could pretend otherwise. 

“So let's hear it. I'm assuming you're going to beg for his life?”

You gnashed your teeth. The mocking tone in his voice annoying you greatly, but what could you do?

“He's only nine. you know it wasn't done to disrespect you. In fact, there's no other he admires more.”

“And yet it was disrespectful.” he answered calmly. Deceivingly so. ”Any other I would have killed on the spot.”

“He's a child.” Tiny still for his age even. “He was curious. You could forgive him.”

“And show weakness to the pack? Now that would be foolish.”

“It wouldn't be weakness. It would be kind. Merciful.”

“Like Andy?” His cold voice sounded nearer, he was moving. “Need I remind you what happened to your favorite Alpha? Long gone, buried in the cold ground. More bones than flesh.”

“Andy was good.” You hissed. 

“Unlike me? That's what you mean right? You think I'm cruel?”

You refused to answer. It didn't matter. 

“I can be cruel, keep testing me and I will show how cruel I can be, little one.”

“I'm not here to argue.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I'm asking you to spare his life.”

He chuckled. “Braver than your mother.” 

You smelled him so much stronger now. A deep, rich scent. Clean. Not unpleasant. His face came into view. Blank. His expression showed nothing about what he was feeling. 

“Go on, tell me how I should save him. Punish him in a different way. Letting everyone know you can steal from me and get away with it.”

You looked up at him, forgetting the rules, forgetting the need for respect. “If a child is threatening to you, maybe you're not worthy being Alpha.”

“Careful. I wouldn't want to put you next to your brother.” He warned calmly. 

“If you did, It would only prove my point.”

He let out a laugh. “Here I was, thinking you'd plead. But of course you wouldn't. You have too much pride. Like your father did. When he tried to turn me away.”

“At least he had guts. He died protecting me.”

“But died he did.”

Your fists balled. How you would love to rip his face to shreds, but you couldn't. It would help no one. 

“He died so I could be free.”

“For now. Time is running out, and who will protect you now? Your mother? Her mate?” He grinned. 

No, they wouldn't. And you knew it. Your mother was submissive. Her mate was decent, but not strong enough to take on Ari. Or willing to risk it. 

“I will see when the time comes. Perhaps I will leave before it. And there are other ways.”

“I will not let you. If you mate with someone else I will challenge them. And they will lose. Their death will be on your conscience.”

There, he said it. The possessiveness so clear in his voice. His body tense, like he was ready to spring into action. 

“You would kill the man I choose to be with? And you wonder why I hate you?” You told him with contempt in your tone. “Perhaps I wasn't even talking about mating another. Perhaps if I can't leave, I will make sure you won't ever have me. There are ways. And I'm not afraid to die.”

“You would kill yourself?” he was surprised. Offended even. 

You shrugged, “There's things worse than death.”

“Any woman would be proud to be chosen!”

“Then pick one of them. I do not want you.” You snapped. “And I did not come here to talk about you or me, in any capacity. I came to talk about my brother.”

“And I have already made judgement. He will stand in front of the pack and he will fight me. There's nothing you will say to change what is already decided.”

It was ridiculous. To have a boy fight a grown man, three heads taller than him. He would never win. It was a joke of a trial.

“He can not beat you! Show some kindness, if you have any” you snarled. 

“You always say I don't have any,” he lazily replied.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you growled. 

“I'm sure I can manage your hatred after all these years of it,” he said, like he was already bored of the conversation. “It won't change a thing.”

“We will see,” you mumbled. You turned to walk away, but he called you back. 

“Kneel.”

You froze, but you knew you had to. Your knees touching the ground beneath you fluently. Head down. Respectful. How you resented it.

“See, you can listen,” he told you amusedly. “If only you did it more often.”

You kept quiet. He was taunting you, and you were done with this conversation. You waited till he dismissed you, and quickly left his residence. 

Your mother was holding back tears, yet you did not pity her. She was supposed to watch him, teach him. And most of all, protect him. Did she even try to reason with Ari? You had doubts. She would weep and grieve, but was she willing to give up her life? Not without permission from him. How pathetic. 

You knew the pack needed to listen to its leader. It was how it was done. But surely, for a child, rules were meant to bend. 

You watched Mico as he sat trembling with fear, waiting for the moment he was called. 

He wouldn't run. Going out there alone, especially at his age, meant death. And perhaps a prolonged one. 

You laid a hand on his head and bend down. 

“Do not fear him. I will be there and I'm not going to let him hurt you.” You told him softly, a whisper only he could hear. 

“You can't go against him,” he told you. Eyes big with tears. So young still. And such a burden to carry. 

“It will be alright. You're my little brother. I will always look after you.”

He threw his arms around you and silently cried in your arms. You let him let it out until he tired himself out, falling asleep on your shoulder, completely exhausted from the last 24 hours. 

Andy would have never put him through this. He was gentler. Fierce in his own way, but he was reasonable. Ari didn't care. He only cared about the respect he got from the group. 

So at night, you gathered.

It was a solemn mood. You all knew what was going to happen. The whole pack was there, staring at their leader and the boy next to him, waiting for him to speak.

Ari straightened and raised his voice, letting it carry, even to the ones standing at the back. “We all know what happened. We all know the punishment for stealing from your Alpha! It is nothing less than death!”

A murmur rose in the crowd, affirmative, but sad. No one wanted to see a kid die. They all saw Mico as one of them, it could've been their child, if they didn't pay attention. They all were reminded to watch their children's every move. To prevent them from having to stand out there, awaiting the execution. It was a harsh lesson. 

You ignored your mother's teary eyes and rough breathing. She had not once interfered. Your lip pulled up in a disgusted snarl. You would never look at her the same after this. When your father died there might never be a close bond with her again, especially not because she seemed intent to move on quickly. But her child… you couldn't believe, even now, she did nothing. 

“It is one of our oldest rules and must be respected. Before dawn his life will end. It can be a swift death” at this Ari turned to Mico, almost amusedly before he continued. “Unless you wish to fight me for it?!”

You growled, fist balling at the mockery of that question. Even if he had changed the sentence, something you had been surprised about, it was still death. If he accepted, his life would end swiftly, fight Ari, and his death would be brutal and it would happen slow. 

“I challenge you!” You raised your voice. 

Some people gasped, others just turned to look at you. 

Your mother mumbled “no!”, but you ignored her, as well as her hand that tried to prevent you from stepping forward.

“My life, or yours, for his.” You said while you marched forward. “Either way, he lives.”

You saw a moment of surprise in his eyes, it didn't last long. He still had that amused smile on his face. “You, little one? You wished to fight me.”

You wished him dead. 

“Yes, instead of him. It is law.”

“It is.” He watched you with dark eyes, thinking. “But I do not wish to fight you.”

‘You will’, you thought, ‘you have to’. “I have challenged you!”

“And I decline,” he shrugged. “Your death would be meaningless. Honorable perhaps, but utterly useless. No. A fight will not happen. But there is a way to settle this.”

You didn't like hearing that. Ari could be callous if he wanted to be, and you hadn't counted on him denying you this fight. 

“He stole the Mating Necklace. The oldest relic we have, passed down generations, only for the Pack's Alpha to gift for his chosen mate. Will it not be fair then, if I'm gifted something in return? The necklace for a bride?”

You swallowed, you knew what he was trying to do. This had not been the plan. You had expected him to take your offer. You hadn’t expected to win, he was too strong, but you were fierce, you would have made it difficult, and you would have had purpose. In a way, you would have had freedom. 

Everyone seemed to like the idea however. What a great way to end this horrible ordeal. The child would live, and their Alpha would finally have a mate. Perhaps soon there would be another celebration if the Union would be fruitful. 

You felt the excitement go through the group. The energy almost touchable. 

You started sweating, eyes darting around, before finally settling on the trees nearby. You had no chance to make a run for it now. Ari was watching you intensely. Like he expected you to. He would make chase. He would not hold back.

It was like he said; he would not let you leave. 

“What will it be, hmm? Your brother’s life, or yours?”

You took a step to lash out, to trigger a fight, but your brother piped up quickly, reading you like a book. “I will die. Please, I will. It's okay.”

He only looked at you, and it broke you. Freezing where you stood, you could only look back. He was trying to protect you. And that most of all settled it. You could not lose him, and you had no other options. 

“I accept,” you whispered.

There was a cheer, but you ignored it. People were crowding you, congratulating, touching, laughing, you did not care. You knew your life would not be yours. 

Your eyes broke contact with your brother in the jostle of the excitement of others. 

You still saw Ari though, his smile wide with satisfaction and victory. 

He had what he wanted for so long. 

[discordiansamba]

Azula visits him in his cell.

He knows she's coming before she arrives. He can hear the guards at the door try and dissuade her. His sister snaps at them, angry. How dare they stand in her way, when she knows that they let Mai through. They relent, and Azula steps into his cell.

She crinkles her nose at the smell. He's less filthy than he was before thanks to Mai, but only just. She meets his eyes- and for just a moment, her breath catches. Zuko's tempted to start growling, just to see what would happen. The dragon goads him on, but he decides against it.

"What do you want?"

She obviously didn't expect him to speak. When he does, she exhales, and she's back to the normal Azula.

"I see you're back to your usual self," Azula observed, "-I suppose we have Mai to thank for that. I hear she's been visiting you."

"Upset you'll have a harder time executing us?" Zuko asked. "Or is father the one who plans to do the honors?"

Azula flinches- it's obvious that she didn't expect him to know about that. He doesn't blame her. She must have assumed he didn't have the presence of mind to understand anyone when he'd been paraded through the Caldera like a chained beast.

(He had been, he supposes.)

"Father, of course," Azula recovers, "-it's only fitting that the Fire Lord should slay the last of the dragons."

Zuko bares his fangs. "What makes you think we'll go down so easily?"

Azula huffs, and rolls her eyes. "You should just make it easy on yourself, Zuko. I would think you'd be grateful to be released from your miserable excuse for an existence."

Yeah. He can't deny that some small part of him still longs for that. But he thinks of Uncle, and of Mai- thinks of his friends. They'd all seen him at his worst, but they accepted him anyways. And she's right- if he dies, the dragons really will be gone. He's spent years chafing at the confines of the prison that is his body, but maybe it doesn't have to be one.

Azula never looks him in the eye anymore. He levels his gaze with hers, but she takes it as the challenge it is, and doesn't look away.

"And what would you do," Zuko said, "-if it comes for you next?"

His sister pales. He shouldn't be enjoying this. He's not stupid- he figured it out a long time ago. He knows Azula blames herself. She hadn't known the consequences when she'd shoved him into that cave- she'd only been six. She was just playing a petty, jealous prank. All she'd wanted was to go back to the villa and lap up mother's attention for a few hours.

He also won't lie to himself. He blames Azula- but only sometimes. She was just a child. They'd both been children. But he also can't pretend that he's not bitter, vengeful in a way that has nothing to do with the spirit that took up residence in his skin. She'd taken everything from him- just like her namesake had taken everything from the dragon.

"Don't worry," Zuko promises, "-when you're running a fever that high, you don't even notice your body twist out of shape."

"Shut up," Azula snaps, "-I would never let that happen."

"You wouldn't have a choice," Zuko says, "-did you think I did? You can't fight something like that. You'll be lucky if the dragon decides to ever give you your body back. It's not like Uncle's here to guide you."

(He's not quite himself right now, otherwise he would never be saying these things. But he doesn't stop. He holds the dragon at bay, but only just.)

"Be quiet," Azula hisses, "-I would never become like you."

"No, you won't," Zuko agrees, "-because I don't intend to die."

Azula stares at them for a long moment, then clicks her tongue. She leaves without another word, and Zuko exhales. He shakes off the dragon, its whispers falling back into silence. He feels like he's finally won, but it doesn't feel as good as he hoped it would.

He doesn't hate Azula. He can't.

(It was as much a warning as anything else. Killing him would only free the dragon- and leave it free to search for its next host

Who better than Azulon's very namesake?)

[searenbound]

I’m reposting the fic I posted last night just to test a little theory of mine. I want to see if the time I posted at ended up killing the first post or not.

Anyways please reblog if you liked it! I got impatient for y’all to see my first work after I’ve been grieving for awhile so it’s a cliffhanger ending but let me know if you want a part 2 ok? I promise to be more patient with that one!

Warnings: male masturbation, female reader, reader flirts with Sakura but no actual cheating,

Pairings: Haruka Sakura x reader, Hayato Suo x reader (mentioned)

He isn’t a pervert.

Really, he isn’t!

But he is just a man. He can’t help it if his eyes happen to glance her way from his spot in the little caffe he was dragged to.

Burning the image of her bouncing around in that little skirt she wore.

It’s not like he was trying to look, or that he’d even see anything if he had been looking internally. Despite how short it was, no one would have seen anything with the shorts she was wearing underneath.

It was probably her boyfriend’s idea, anyone could’ve seen her panties otherwise. He likely wouldn’t have wanted anyone else looking at her in such away.

Which made Sakura hate this that much more.

It wasn’t intentional, his thoughts wandered without his permission once he was home and alone.

He couldn’t help his curiosity as images of what type of underwear she possibly wore flashed through his thoughts so quickly that he didn’t even consider the reality of his situation.

Were they plain and simple and cute, made of something practical like cotton? Or maybe they were frilly with ribbons and lace and made of silk or satin?

Soon enough, he’s aching for something that’s not his to have. Throbbing and pulsing hard and cursing her name for making him want her.

He didn’t mean too let himself get so carried away. He swears he doesn’t usually care about this sort of stuff, but he slides his sweats down just enough to free his cock and a strangled groan is leaving his lips as his hand wraps around it.

He has to be the worst kind of friend, right?

His hand slides along his length and a hiss leaves his lips as he imagines it’s hers instead. He doesn’t think it’d compare.

His hands large and rough from years of fighting and her are probably soft and gentle. Well taken care of and a manicure he’d kill to see wrapped around his cock.

A sight he’s sure Suo is very used too and is probably proud of and��� his hand falters— he should be ashamed.

This was his friend’s girlfriend he was thinking about! But it’s her own fault for being a shameless flirt, isn’t it?

She was always teasing, always touching and clinging on to other men, always trying to get his attention when you’d think she’d have plenty from her boyfriend.

But when he really thought about it, there was only two men she clung to like that.

One was obvious, it made sense, of course she’d want to be around Suo all the time. They were dating, so why did she cling to someone else?

Why did she go out her way to cling onto him? He wasn’t anyone special to her so why did she feel so comfortable with shameless flirting with him like she had earlier?

“Hey, hey! Haru-chan can I ask you something?” he recalls (Yn) practically purring at him.

She was leaning in too close, bright gleaming eyes sparkling with mischief and intrigue as he jumped back in surprise.

His back hitting the wall behind him, making him feel trapped in by the little wannabe predator in front of him.

He wanted to lash out and yell, wanted to challenge her for having such audacity to think she could get away with this, but then her chest was against his.

Soft and warm and plush compared to his firmer chest— his hand begins to move as recalls that fell—and she dawned a wry smile at his flustered frustrated sputtering of threats and swears that die in his throat. He thinks he’d like to make her look that pathetic, shut her up with his cock down her throat and listen to her sputtering and gagging.

His fist clenches around himself, stroking a little rougher at the thought. Imagining her in front of him, looking up at him with this wanting look.

She’d pull away for a moment and tilt her head to the side and lock her lips with that evil pink tongue of hers before speaking—

“Do you like me?” he freezes at the memory of her question

How the hell was he supposed to respond? Should he have just said no?

It’d have been easier, even if it would have been a lie, and it not like he could have said the truth there.

She was dating someone else already. Someone he was close to and, for that matter why the hell did she care for? It’s not like they could be together so— guilt quickly turns to anger at what he had overlooked in the moment.

“(Yn), don’t you think you’ve had enough fun? If you keep playing with him like that you just might kill him” Suo had chuckled with a hand on her lower back to usher her away as she whined.

“You’re no fun Yato-chan!”

Had those two been fucking with him the whole time?! Well fuck them! Now he doesn’t even feel bad about wanting to fuck his friend’s girlfriend!

In fact? Maybe he will just to teach them a lesson!

He doesn’t stop to consider that maybe that’s what they wanted from in the first place, oh well, the seed is planted now all they have to do is wait for it to grow into a plan.

[heartrender6]

most of the kuwei hate in this fandom is absolutely racially motivated and most of it is probably subconscious but i NEED to talk about this.

and not because i think people r thinking "i hate kuwei!! he's asian and i hate asians!!" tbh most anti asian racism on the internet goes way deeper than that.

basically, what i believe to be the most prominent type of racism against asians, especially on the internet, is stereotyping. specifically "uwu-ification." the east asian entertainment industry likes to paint asian people as cute, submissive and sweet because it markets disturbingly well to american audiences, and whether people mean to or not, they internalize it and it affects the way they think of asian people as a whole. This mostly happens to east and southeast asian women, but definitely a lot with men too, especially in more recent years with the whole yaoi culture thing (i fucking hated typing that) becoming more popular. simply put, it's fetishization.

so how does this relate to kuwei? well, when kuwei is introduced to us, and im not gonna dance around it— he is pretty stereotypically asian. he's shy, innocent, small, good at math/science and— you guessed it— no speaka engrish. leigh bardugo lays the perfect trap for fandom white girl weeaboos to gush over this guy. once i came across a modern au where kuwei's whole northern chinese-mongolian ass is a "shy japanese transfer student." i really wish i was making this up.

but then we find out that kuwei is actually a conniving little shit who is really quite terrible at science and spends all day making shitty drawings of his crush instead of doing math or wtv. The turning point where we are told this is the jesper kiss. This is the point where we find out kuwei is not the yaoi uwu baby we thought he was. and how does fuckin 2/3 of the fandom react?? hate. instant hate. If you search "i hate kuwei" on twitter there are tweets both defending and attacking him, but there is significantly more of the latter.

most of them claim to hate him for kissing jesper but like... jesper kissed him. He doesn't say anything because, in his own words, "we're all probably going to die anyway." does no one see how tragic that is?? he let his first (probably) kiss be taken by someone who he knew didn't even like him because he thought it would be the only one he'd ever get.

and yet the only thing people see is that he "got in the way" of wesper and he's evil. throughout the series kuwei is given no agency, and that's the point of his character. everyone on the planet treats him as a weapon or a bargaining chip. he gets tossed around like a rag doll and to white (or otherwise not asian) audiences, that makes him the perfect picture of a little asian cutie i almost vomited typing that holy shit. but the moments where he takes something for himself— insisting on going to ravka, kissing jesper back— that's what makes people hate him. and don't even get me started on the way people project their hatred onto the other crows, especially wylan. yall will act like wylan loathes kuwei with all his being. he doesn't!! wylan is not a hateful person and he always defends kuwei!! but nooo, kuwei sucks and he deserves it for daring to be a person instead of an idea.

and hey?? guess what?? kuwei was NEVER in the way of wesper. there was no love triangle. narratively speaking, there was never any threat that kuwei would end up with jesper instead of wylan. never ever. the kiss was literally only put there to create drama for wylan and jesper. we never even hear how kuwei feels about it. stop using that as an excuse to hate on kuwei when we can all see it's because you're subconsciously mad at an asian person not being nice.

also disliking kuwei does not automatically make you racist, im just saying a lot of hatred towards kuwei is rooted in racism.

tagging my fellow aapi moots (that i know of) because i wanna hear yalls thoughts on this! @hauntedacousticversiontv @dramaqueentruther

[hello-idk-what]

Why do they only focus on Tony Stark’s ptsd, trauma and mental health in general

—————————————

Steve Rogers - World War II veteran, was frozen for 70 years, lived through the Great Depression, best friend fell to death in front of him, proberly feels tremendous guilt for not searching for Bucky’s body, had abusive father in comics (you’d have to guess it was MCU cannon due to how they had no mention of his dad being otherwise)

Thor Odinson - has fought in many battles, mom was killed, dad died in front of him, had to kill his sister, lost his home, watched his brother die several times, had to fight his brother many times, was forced to rule when he didn’t wish to (“And believe me I would love for someone else to rule but is can’t be you. You’re just… the worst”)

Bruce Banner - turns into a homicidal, destructive monster

Clint Barton - was a shield agent, not much is known about him

Natasha Romanoff - Red Room, ex shield agent, the Ohio mission, never knew her family, Antonia Dreykov, guilt

Sam Wilson - ex pararescue, watched best friend fall to death

Wanda Maximoff - bombing survivor, two days stuck under rubble, human experimentation, forced to kill boyfriend, lost children, was left so horribly traumatised by killing vision that she accidentally mind controlled a small town to create a reality where everything was fine, was corrupted by the dark hold into trying to kill a child, was left hated for a accident that happens while trying to save people (Lagos), dead brother

Bucky Barnes - was kidnapped and experimented on, fell to ‘death’, was taken, had memories wiped, tortured, brainwashed, forced to kill, nearly killed best friend twice

Peter Parker - Uncle died in front of him, parents died when he was young, bullied, nearly crushed by falling building, blackmailed into fighting superheroes he was to inexperienced to fight, mentor died in front of him, aunt died in front of him, pressured into for filling a role he can’t, was forced to wipe everyone’s memories of him, lost everything

Carol Danvers - was kidnapped, had her memories wiped, was betrayed by her friend, still is recovering her memories in her second movie

Scott Lang - was kept out of his daughters life, lost years of her life to prison/thanos

Black Panther - saw his father die, almost kills a innocent man out vengeance, was nearly killed by his cousin

—————————————————

I could keep going on but I think you get the point

So many other mcu characters have trauma, many show signs of ptsd and I am a strong believer is Steve Rogers having really bad depression. My point is that there are so many other characters whose mental health the mcu could unpack but they continuously chose to not acknowledge it. Instead of fleshing out other characters via there mental health they keep choosing to shove Tony Starks daddy issues and the one time he flew into a wormhole in our face, which in my opinion was good the first time round but is now overused.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 3

Chapter 1: Sick with Dread

Part One | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

There are a lot of new people here who may not know I have an ongoing series, so here's a little info about it. It started as a request and quickly grew into a multichapter fic (the longest one I've ever created!) The reader is Whitebeard's Daughter, who has a volcano devil fruit ability and who has been away for two years, only to return and meet a familiar spunky fire user. There's nineteen chapters before this, so you might want to go read those first for some background information, but we've just entered the start of what leads to the Marineford arc, so things are about to get real. It's a commitment, but I believe it's worth it if you're looking for a character-centric in-depth story!

If you're keeping up with the story, releases will be on Monday and Thursday unless I say otherwise!

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.5k

You were fairly certain you were about to die. Jinx hadn’t left you alone for days. Jinx, who couldn’t stand you or your presence. Jinx, who only saw you as competition from the moment Ace saved her from that stupid box and she claimed him as her own. 

That cat had hated you from the moment it saw you. But now she was curled up on your chest, sleeping soundly. You could’ve sworn she was just waiting for the moment your heart stopped, so she could boastfully sit atop your corpse. That’s just how Jinx was. 

You couldn’t blame her; you were an easy target right now. The Spring ecosystem you were in had completely messed with your allergies. It was only a matter of time before she would be able to smother you and completely get away with murder. Some days you were so sick, you couldn’t even get out of bed to go throw up. Today was one of those days. 

You were sick from allergies and sick with worry. It was one day past due for Thatch to report back to the ship before the crew would have to send in a second team. He could’ve been caught, or killed, or tied up and made a mockery of. You had plenty of time to think about it, since you were basically bedridden at this point. 

You were certain the commanders and strategists were all thinking of a plan to go find out what had occurred, but it would take at least two days to mobilize them. And in that time, Thatch could be taken away or sunk to the bottom of the ocean. It hurt to breathe just thinking about it.

The door opened quietly, and you heard Ace’s voice from the doorframe. “Are you awake?” he whispered. “I have someone here for you.”

“I’m awake,” you said, your voice scratchy and raw. You almost got your hopes up about the visitor, but Ace sounded solemn, which was a good indicator that the visitor wasn’t Thatch.

Marco stepped inside instead, and you groaned at his appearance. “Just let me die, Marco. Leave me alone.”

He hummed, frowning over your body as you laid in bed. “I’d really like to run some tests,” Marco said. “The concept of fever and colds are completely foreign to your body, and yet something is clearly off. You shouldn’t be this sick for so long.”

“Or maybe the substitute cook has been cooking so badly he gave me food poisoning that’s lasted the past two weeks,” you shot back. “I want Thatch back.”

“I know.” Marco sat down on the bed next to you. “He’ll be home soon. In the meantime, let me get some bloodwork to check out.”

“No,” you hissed, pulling your arm away from him. “I told you, it’s just allergies.”

Marco looked at you with skepticism. He knew that it wasn’t just allergies, and you did too. 

“Allergies don’t make people throw up,” he reminded you gently. 

“Worry does,” you argued. “And so does food poisoning. So leave me alone.”

“If you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m taking your blood by force,” Marco said, getting up and heading for the door. He gave Ace a knowing look, as if to say “Good luck!” and then left you two alone. 

Marco had dealt with your varieties of illnesses over the years, and he knew you were too stubborn and whiny to listen to any of his advice. But for Ace, this was relatively new territory. You had been sick a few times over the past few months, but it had never been anything serious. Not like this. But you had been sick with worry ever since Thatch left. Something just didn’t feel right about this mission. 

Ace laid down next to you and began to brush your matted hair from your face, but instantly pulled back. 

He scowled at you. “I know you’re upset and want to be alone, but you don’t have to burn me.”

“I’m tired and I want to rest,” you groaned, turning away from him in bed. “Just let me sleep for a little bit, please?”

Ace sighed and got up from the bed. It was clear Marco must’ve given him some pointers. 

“I’ll let you know if I hear any news about Thatch, okay?”

“Thank you,” you whispered, trying your best to sound normal. 

The door opened and with a soft click of the door handle, he was gone. 

You hadn’t meant to burn him, but you couldn’t let him know that. Your powers had been a little haywire recently. You were overloaded on stress and high emotions, and though you had thought you had gotten that mostly under control, it seemed that your powers sometimes had a mind of their own. 

You’d be more concerned about it, but you were so damn tired that you fell asleep before you had time to think too hard. 

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep, but you woke again to Ace’s voice, jostling you awake.

“Y/N,” he whispered, shaking you lightly. “Thatch is back.”

You sat up immediately, looking around the room. The sudden motion made Jinx hiss and bolt away from you, but you didn’t care. At least she was acting normal again.

“Where?” you asked. 

“Out on the deck.”

You jumped up, ignoring the queasy feeling in your gut, and took off towards the deck. As you emerged, the setting sun illuminated the ship in a golden glow. You scanned the ship, desperately searching for him. He was here, somewhere. He had to be. 

And then you found him, his pompadour hair making him stand out from the crowd. 

“Thatch!” You screamed, running towards him. 

His eyes moved over to you and he broke out into a massive grin, holding his arms open to catch you. 

You slammed into him with such force, the two of you almost fell to the ground. But he kept you steady, like he always did. You did your best to keep the tears out of your eyes, but you were so relieved that he was okay. 

“I told you I’d be back,” he said, rubbing your back.

“You’re late,” you sobbed into his chest. “You promised two weeks.”

“Will you forgive me?”

You pulled away from him, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I guess I can this time. Just don’t do it again.”

He smiled and gave you a nod. “Yes ma’am. You have my word.”

You had been so happy to see him, you hadn’t realized he had come back with a prize. 

“You found a devil fruit?” you asked, looking at it skeptically.

“I did!” Thatch grinned, holding it out for you to see. “Take a look!”

You took the fruit from him and examined it. It was a small purple fruit that looked relatively unimpressive. There was no real indication of what it did exactly. But still, finding a devil fruit was a great feat, even on the Grand Line. 

“What are you going to do with it?” you asked, still checking it over for any indication of what it could be. 

“Not sure yet,” Thatch admitted. “I’m not sure I want to lose my ability to swim, especially if it’s a lame power. I might just sell it.”

You nodded. “There’s no good way to tell what it does, really. Probably better selling it than taking a risk for a lame power.”

“Pretty cool though, huh?!” He stood proud and tall. 

“You’ve got color again!” Marco called, walking over to the two of you. “She was sick with worry, you know.”

Thatch laughed and pulled you in for another hug. “It was definitely a challenge. You were right, we were better off taking a few members from Division Two. But we made it work.”

“I knew you would,” you said, giving him a tight squeeze. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Alright,” he said, pulling away from you and addressing the crowd. “Let’s eat!”

He took his devil fruit back from you and headed for the kitchen. Your appetite was back now that your cook was back. All felt right with the world. 

“You look better,” Ace said, grabbing your hand with his own. 

“I feel better,” you admitted. “God, I was so nervous. It feels so silly looking back on it.”

Ace pulled you in, dropping a sweet kiss on your lips that tasted like cinnamon. 

You pulled away from him, grinning giddily. “Did the commanders do Welcome Back shots?”

Ace gave a nervous laugh. “Maybe two or three,” he admitted. “You weren’t the only one who was nervous today.”

That was a little bit of a relief. Everyone else had kept such cool demeanors, you were worried you had been overreacting. But everyone had been nervous, they were all just better at hiding it. But now the anxiety that had covered the ship was nothing but a fading memory.

“Let's go eat,” you said, pulling him along with you. You were excited to finally have food that agreed with your stomach again, and finally felt like you could eat in peace.

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @aikochan4859 @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

[secret-smut-sideblog]

I Should Hate You

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ confrontation, implied trauma/abuse, talks of death, ANGST, blood drinking, fighting (verbal), astarion being rough (physical), threats of violence against self, crying, tenderness, exes getting back together, dubcon, implied lack of control during sex, oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), disassociation

Tired of living in constant vigilance and fear, Tav has to confront the Vampire Lord. Even if it means her end. What she doesn't expect is the Ascendant doesn't want her dead at all...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"This is a bad idea, Tav."

"I know."

"Then don't go."

Shadowheart's wide green eyes stared deep into her. Hands cupped around her face.

"I cant-" Tav sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't live in fear anymore. Of him. Of what he might do when he finds me."

"We can leave the Sword Coast, we can go. Forever."

"That's not the point. And I wouldn't ask that of you."

"You could." Shadowheart's voice caught, planting soft kisses on her mouth. "You could ask me for anything."

"I know." Tav smiled warmly, leaning into her. Pressing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

They both knew what this meant. A life would be taken. Either her's, his, or both. She couldn't see an outcome without death either way. That made her heart ache but she couldn't go on this way.

Always in the shadows, skirting around the edge of society. How ironic, that she had refused his blood, his vampirism, but still lived like one. Even months on, walking with a hood on. Shrouded. Eyes down. Never looking at faces too long.

Who knew there was so much shame in freedom?

No it had to be this way. The last thread he had tied to her wrist must be severed.

She was not afraid to die. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. It wouldn't do any good to start now.

The streets looked as angelic in the soft lamplight as she had remembered. Cobblestones and passersby's. Hushed chatter from corners where couples stood. Rich as an oil painting.

Standing in shadow she took long deep breaths. Committing this view, this feeling to memory. Peace. The perfect intimacy of night.

Took a long steadying breath out.

Okay.

She lifted the hood off of her head, walking out into the soft light. Stood in it for one reverent moment. Knew it wouldn't take long. He had eyes everywhere.

She made a pointed look out, at the faces of men and animals alike. Come get me.

Walked on sure feet into the Elfsong.

"What can I do you fo-"

"Wait. It's you! Our hero! Welcome back, love!"

She smiled sheepishly. Reaching for her coinpurse.

"Ah, come on. I'm just a patron for tonight. One room, please."

"Come off it! No charge for you. I wish I could rent you your old lodgings but we've got a great room for you otherwise. Top floor!"

She smiled. Hopefully, they wouldn't have too much blood to clean up. "That sounds perfect, thank you Alan."

They chatted amicably as he led her up. Handing her the keys with a friendly clasp over her hands.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Truly don't hesitate."

The door closed solidly behind her, she kicked off her shoes. Lighting an oil lamp. Hanging her cloak.

Knew he was waiting, could feel it on the air.

If she was going to die she could at least be comfortable. Slipping into a long silk night shirt.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Okay.

She opened the window, the night air sweet and promising. Billowing the curtains gently. Turned to the vanity and sat down. Eyes closed.

The presence behind her was unmistakable.

Fingers caressing along her collarbone. Picking up the cut ends of her hair.

She shivered, eyes still closed.

"You know, you still feel like him." She hushed, wonder and sadness melded in her voice. "That's the cruelest part. If I could just pretend..."

She opened her eyes, his torso reflected in the mirror. "But I can see you."

"You always could, darling."

She laughed solemnly. "I think I was always pretending, wasn't I? Pretending that you loved me."

"Look at me, Tav."

"Why?" She asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "What good would that do? We both know why you're here." Her eyes steady on his body reflected behind her.

Felt him move before his reflection caught up with him.

Fingers rough on her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, full of contempt.

He looked... bad. Still perfectly manicured, of course, but with dark purple circles marred under his eyes. Skin pallid. Twitchy. An air of something barely controlled.

"You really did kill everyone, didn't you?" She hushed, jaw clenching under his hold.

He stared down at her, eyes scanning. Dark around his shrunken pupils, that deep red when he hadn't fed in a while.

"Where have you been?"

She stood, his fingers still on her chin. Reached up and held onto his forearm. Not pulling away but not leaning in.

"Away."

He laughed coldly. "Away. Right."

"Why are you here, Lord Ancunin?"

His eyes cut deadly to hers then. Stepping closer.

She stood her ground, feet spread.

Their eyes level with each other.

"I'm here to take back what is mine."

"You still think I'm your spawn, don't you? Didn't you have enough courtesan's to fuck and bleed? Or did you kill them too?"

His hand snapped down around her throat. Breathing hard through his nose.

She stared back, unflinching.

"I'm not afraid of you." She whispered. Aware those words could be her last.

His eyes flared, the muscle in his jaw popping.

His hand flashed forward and ripped the hidden dagger tied to her thigh away. Throwing it across the room.

"I want you back." His voice low, dangerous. Strained.

"I tried to replace you." He lifted her onto the vanity. The bottles crashing to the floor. "None of them. None of them were enough."

She stared up at him, trying to hide the shock in her face. Why was he saying this?

"Tav," He moaned, leaning into her neck. Fingers twisting her hair. Pushing between her legs.

Her body betrayed her then. It felt like him. Smelled like him. Her eyes falling closed.

"Oh Gods, Tav." He groaned, gripping her waist. Licking a hot line up her neck.

"It's not you." She said quietly to herself. Trying to break the spell. "You're not my love."

"Please, Tav." He moaned, hiking her nightgown up over her thigh. "Please, I'm so hungry." The bare need in his voice making her belly flip.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her eyes prickled with angry tears. Gripping him tighter to her.

"I want you. I need you." His mouth pushed against her throat. "Please don't make me beg."

She was lost. Why was he asking for permission? Why was he asking at all?

This was not what she had envisioned. She had planned for everything but this.

And still, his hands, shaking and needful, pulled at her. How could this stranger pantomime him so well?

Before the words even left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Starlight?"

He pressed his head into her, moaning low. Biting down desperately.

Fuck.

She gripped his arm, gasping. The familiar ice piercing her neck. The stark realization that she was now the meal of a starving animal. He was going to bleed her to her last drop.

Her mind raced as the gentle euphoria tried to take her. Something she used to treasure now lulling her into a false safety. She had fallen into a bear trap, neck first.

He was going to bleed her dry and change her. Make her his property, his puppet. She had to think fast.

She clenched her hand into a fist and arced it back as hard as she could, the mirror shattering against her back.

He was slow, lost in her throat. Only reacting when she held a shard of glass between them. Pressed to the other side of her neck.

"Release." She warned.

He paused, still latched on. Eyes moving fast between her hand, clamped down around the shard, blood dripping onto her nightgown. Her neck. Her eyes. Calculating.

"You know I'll do it. Release." She pressed the shard hard into her skin. The bite of the glass against her jugular.

He unlatched with a growl, lifting her off of the vanity and throwing her on the bed with inhuman strength. Catching her wrist tightly and throwing the shard hard against the wall. Shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There he is." She hissed. "The Lord Ancunin."

"You are coming back with me."

"You may take my body. You can hurt me, fuck me till I bleed, I don't care. You've done worse. But you will not have me." She laughed coldly. "My heart died with you years ago. But my will is mine."

She sat up on knees, eyes level with his again. Filled with fury. That same fury before she fell.

"You have killed me a thousand times, in little cuts you bled me. Of my hope. My love. It is spilled everywhere in that castle."

Her voice rising. "I have loved you through every tortuous night. Praying and PLEADING to every god that you could love me back. You were my everything. And you tricked me. Tricked me into thinking you could hold me above anything more than a fucking plaything! How dare you come to me and ask for more!"

Tears streaming angry down her face, holding her already bruising wrists up in a mock tie.

"Go on! Take! Take more from me! That's all you have for me, right?! That's our future! Take until I am NOTHING Astarion!"

Their joined breath was heavy in the tense silence as her words cracked through the air.

He stared at her, huffing hard. His chest rising and falling.

"If you force me, I will kill us both and burn that castle to ashes. I swear it." Closing her eyes, the old pain rocking through her again. Her wrists phantom stinging. "Don't make me do this, Astarion. I dont want to hurt you. Please dont make me."

Gripping at his arms, the grief poured out of her in a flood. Her face turning away from his in shame. "Why? Why couldn't it be different with me? You told me you loved me. I could have hated you. It would have been so much kinder to let me hate you. Why did you tell me you loved me?"

Her eyes opened and stared at him through thick water. Demanding an answer. "Did I not do enough? Did I not love you enough? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stared at her, bloody tears leaking from his eyes. Face cold as marble.

His warm hand cupped her cheek. Thumb wiping gingerly at the stream of grief.

"What have I done to you, my sweet?"

She flinched away from his touch on instinct.

His other hand came to cup her face.

"Please don't do that." He whispered, a vein of agony in his voice.

She could not trust this touch. Yet she yearned so desperately to be held by him again.

"Why are you being kind to me?" She laced her fingers through his, still pressed to her cheek.

"Because I-," He started, a hollow pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut painfully. "No. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, my love."

She choked back a sob. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

She kissed him to silence him. Gasping against his frightfully warm mouth. This wasn't him. She chanted in her mind. This wasn't him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, those familiar lips sliding against hers.

Why did he taste the same, feel the same? Those curls still soft against her seeking hands.

A new stream of tears flowing from her closed eyes. How cruel, for him to be as he was.

"Please, I want to pretend again." She urged, pulling at his doublet, the buttons giving in to her need. "Be sweet to me just one more time, Starlight."

He moaned out a mournful cry into her mouth. Hands pulling her nightgown over her head. "I will do anything for you, my treasure." Laying her back against the sheets. "Please let me show you."

She felt traitorous shivers go up her spine. He was still too beautiful. The silks and pressed linens of his doublet open, revealing the pale plane of his chest. Eyes so strikingly red, lashes long. Irises coursing with her ruby blood. Lips full and pouted. That soft pleading in his eyes.

"Yes, Star." Blinking away tears. "Let me believe you love me." She hushed, her lip trembling.

He kissed down her neck, hands drinking her in. Leaning his pelvis into her spread legs. The hard of his clothed length rubbing against her center.

She was lost in him again, eyes closing. Tight with tears. It had been so long.

His touch intoxicating, pulling the silk of need from her. Tongue crushed velvet against her writhing torso.

"Yes," She urged, head thrown back.

He ran his hot tongue down the sensitive skin inside her thigh, lidded eyes meeting hers. Snapping his doublet open with quick fingers and pulling it fluidly over his head.

"I need you." She whispered. It was never fair, what he did to her.

His eyes suddenly burned out red from the pupil, glowing hot crimson. Mouth falling open, fangs elongating. A rattling in the back of his chest. She realized he had stopped breathing entirely.

A strike of fear pulsed with her arousal. No, this wasn't him. This wasn't a man at all.

"Astarion," She called softly, trying to bring him back.

But he was gone.

His burning eyes darted down to her cunt. Fingernails lengthening into sharp points.

At inhuman speed he dove onto her. Laving hard stripes up and down her center.

She cried out, gripping the sheets. "Fuck," She yelped, already seeing stars.

The onslaught was vicious, his tongue pulsing fast and greedy. Face fully buried in her. Nose pushing up into her clit as he crushed his tongue into her.

Her hips continued to rise in an effort to get away and he only followed, head pushing higher.

"Oh my Gods," She nearly shrieked, the pleasure so intense her body tried to twist away.

He grabbed around her hips and stood on his knees, his ascended strength lifting her entire pelvis up with ease. Her legs falling forward over her chest. Only her shoulder blades still on the bed.

In this new position, he steered her back into his mouth. Burning red eyes glazed over, sharp nails digging into her ass hard enough to break skin. Ten drops of blood dripping down her back.

She clenched her legs together, whimpering loudly. Needing it to stop but her traitor body hungry for more.

He zeroed in on her clit, eyes focusing on her again. Two glowing points in the dim light. That rattling in his chest scaring her and striking a flint of heat through her core.

He clamped down and sucked hard, tongue pulling fast pulses against her engorged clit.

She writhed helplessly, moaning out prey cries. A rabbit caught.

"Please, please, I cant take it-" She whimpered loudly, her limbs tingling hot in warning. The ache in her pelvis nearly breaching.

Her vision went white as it hit her. Shrieking out as a perfect agony thrashed her against the stones. Drowning in the pleasure of his violence. Her body wrenching in a tortuous rhythm. Fucked to oblivion. Arching up, head hanging as he lifted her even higher. The blood rushing to her head threatening black stars in her vision.

"Stop," She gasped as his mouth continued to devour her. "Please, enough."

"Astarion, STOP!"

His eyes dimmed again, the red pulling away he let her drop, blinking. "Oh, oh my treasure. I-"

She curled onto her side. Pulling her legs hard into her body. Shaking and closing her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of him speaking above her but she was gone. Drifting away from her body. Seeing the room from far, far above herself. The world narrowing to a small point.

His hands shaking her brought her crashing back.

"Tav," He urged, looking deep in her eyes. "Tav, please speak to me."

"I want you to go." She whispered, looking foreign at him. "Please, go."

"No, please. I dont know what-"

"If you care as much as you pretend to, then please go."

He bit his lip, eyes scanning her face.

"I will find you again. I will make this right."

She layed her head back down, curling back into herself.

He pulled the sheets and blankets up over her. Pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I will see you again, my treasure."

And he was gone, whipping up into the wind, out the open window.

Left with the silence of the night, she let the slow tears leak down the side of her face.

What had she started?

~

Part 5

[whos-orion]

Risk (3/4)

Summary: Omega and Hemlock are stranded in the middle of the Weyland jungle, and there’s only one way out. Work together. As Hunter and the rest of the Batch try to work through Omega’s loss, Omega discovers something truly, truly terrifying.

Word Count: 1861

Notes: haha guess what it’s not the last part!!! Maybe pt 4 will be the end maybe not I don’t really know!! Enjoy!! Also let me know in a reblog/reply if you would like to be on the tag list for pt 4!

Tag List: @twinsunstars @luzfeather

Part 1 Part 2

This was strange.

Omega was sitting in the middle of the Weyland Jungle, having survived a fall from the top of a mountain, next to Royce Hemlock. He was tending to his wounds, using a small medkit he kept on his person at all times. Of course he did. He was a doctor. An evil scientist, but a doctor nonetheless. He was applying bandages around the spot where Omega had shot him earlier. He finished and sighed, wincing as he turned his head towards Omega.

“…are you certain you don’t want me to take care of your leg?”

“Yes.” Omega replied firmly. Her left leg hurt badly, more so than everything else at least. But she didn’t want to give any kind of trust to Hemlock.

“It would be wise to let me do so. You appear to have landed on it. It is most likely broken—“

“Shut up.” Omega snapped. She didn’t feel like talking with him right now. Or ever, for that matter. Right now, she needed to figure out a way to get out of the jungle. Make it back to the mountain. There may still be a ship there for her to steal. Hemlock said a ship left shortly before she woke up, and that it was most likely her brothers. She didn’t trust him, but also wondered what reason he would have to lie. He probably wanted to live, too. Probably.

Omega sighed and moved some hair out of her face. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She couldn’t go anywhere at the moment, at least not without Hemlock. She grumbled and spoke to him.

“…do you have anything in that kit that could take these cuffs off?” She asked. Hemlock turned to her, his expression easing up a bit.

“No, I don’t. Even if I did, what makes you think I’d take them off? You’d run off and leave me to die.”

“I’d have a better chance of surviving. Both of us would.” She said, disdain in her voice. She didn’t want to work with him. She hated the very idea of it.

“Maybe so. But, at the moment, we must combine our efforts if we are to survive. This jungle is dangerous.” Hemlock said, overacting his surroundings. He was clearly worried about whatever was out there. Omega remembered her first escape from Tantiss, and the giant creature that had nearly attacked her and Crosshair. They were only able to get away because the Lurca hounds fended it off.

Omega didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. But…Hemlock, for once, was right. They couldn’t make it out of here alive in this state. Unless they worked together. Omega sighed and turned to look at Hemlock again.

“Do you…have any suggestions?” She was clearly unhappy to be asking him. But he had no reason to hurt her, at the moment.

“We need to cover ground. If we get back to the mountain, we can access my communicator and call for help.”

“You can call for help. I’m getting a ship and leaving.” Omega said. Hemlock grumbled and rubbed his temples.

“Your friends will have destroyed the rest of the ships. Or taken them all. Governor Tarkin is already on his way here, anyways. If we get to the mountain, we can wait for him there.” Hemlock said. He sighed and looked at Omega.

“You really think I’m going to let that happen? Let you take me back there when Imperials will be swarming the place? There’s bound to be another ship there, they can’t have taken them all.” She reasoned. There had to be a ship there. She was really hoping a ship was there. Otherwise…she didn’t know how she was going to get out.

“Fine,” Hemlock said firmly. “We can talk about that later. Right now, we need to get moving. If we wait any longer, it will be night before we get there, and then this place will be far more dangerous.” He moved to stand, then stopped. That strange look of concern was back on his face. “Can you walk?”

“Why do you care?” Omega gruffly asked. She pushed herself up and winced in pain as she felt her leg light up in agony. She nearly fell back down, but Hemlock caught her. She pushed away from him and stood on her own, putting most of her weight on her right leg.

“Because I don’t want you dying.” He replied plainly.

“Why? Because you don’t want to carry around my corpse?” Omega retorted. Hemlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

“It should be obvious enough by now, Omega. Use your senses.”

“Hmph. You think the Empire will let you continue with your work after this? You’re to blame for this destruction.”

“Your friends are to blame. I am indispensable. The Emperor will do anything to make sure his project is complete. As long as both of us are alive, I will be the most important man in the Empire. Besides the Emperor, of course.” Hemlock said. He stood up tall and looked towards the direction the mountain was in. “Let’s get moving.”

Hunter sat on the deck of his little hut on Pabu. He was looking out as the midday sun made the water shine. He sighed and leaned back on the bench. It had only been one rotation. One rotation since Tantiss. One rotation since the catwalk. One rotation since…Omega. Losing Omega. It hurt just to think about it. Wrecker had woken up just a few hours ago. Hunter hadn’t told him yet, but Wrecker was beginning to suspect something. It wasn’t that Hunter didn’t want him to know. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it. That would be admitting it, accepting it, knowing it. That she was gone. Gone. Dead. Hunter held his head in his hands, breathing deeply. She was gone.

Omega and Hemlock were making good time. They were nearly to the Lurca hound kennels, where they deemed the easiest access point was. Hemlock had explained the power was cut, so the ray shields shouldn’t be up. They could get in from there. Omega limped next to Hemlock as they walked through the thick jungle. Hemlock glanced over at her.

“…are you sure that—“

“Yes. Stop asking.” Omega quickly replied. She did not want his help. She wanted her brothers. She wanted to go home.

They walked a little further to a familiar clearing. Omega recognized it as the place where she and Crosshair had ended up on their first escape. She saw the tunnel where they had exited from as she and Hemlock approached it. Hemlock took the hand cuffed together with Omega and removed a panel from the outside structure. He fiddled with the wires for a moment, and the tunnel opened. He turned to her, his expression steely as ever.

“Omega. For once in your life, I’d like you to comply with my requests. We are going to head inside. We are going to head to my office. We are going to contact the Empire for help if Governor Tarkin has not already arrived. If there are ships left here, you are not going to take them. If you do escape, remember that I know how to find you. I know where you and your friends hide, and I will find you.” He spoke calmly, yet coldly. His eyes narrowed at Omega as she stood in silence. She nodded. She wasn’t going to do as he said, obviously, but she needed to get inside. And right now, the only way to do that was with him. The second she was separated from him, she would make her run for it. There had to be a ship. There had to be.

Hemlock and Omega entered the tunnel, crouching through the small space. Hemlock had been right, the ray shields were deactivated. They made it through with little to no problems. Though, Omega noticed several more concerned looks at her leg. It was still hurting badly. But she could make it out. She knew she could.

Hunter was standing outside of Shep’s house. Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo, and Shep were inside. He’d just told Wrecker what happened. Sort of. Either way, he wasn’t taking it well. Hunter had begun to speak, trying to get the words out, when he was interrupted. Crosshair had interjected before Hunter could say what happened, and he didn’t put what happened lightly.

“She’s dead.” He blurted out. “She’s dead and gone.” His voice broke as he spoke. Wrecker was silent for a moment, then began trying to deny it through tears. Hunter stood there silent as Wrecker practically begged for it to not be true. Crosshair was yelling at him, sobbing as well. Hunter had then left the house, standing outside where he was now. He could still hear Crosshair. Echo and Shep were trying to calm things down. Hunter stood outside, trying desperately to hold back tears. He had to be strong now. He had to keep the squad together. That was his job. That had always been his job. And he’d failed.

He had failed.

Omega and Hemlock walked through the deserted halls of Tantiss, now littered with the bodies of Stormtroopers and Clones alike. The two came to Hemlock’s office, which was dark and desolate. The doors whirred closed behind them and Hemlock locked them. The lights in the room were dim. There wasn’t much in the room. A small desk and chair, a raised table for examination, and a strange capsule on the wall to the right of the entrance. Omega couldn’t see what was in it.

Hemlock dragged Omega to the desk where he pulled out a small tool. He picked at the binders with it for a moment, and then they came loose.

“The door is locked. The vents are bolted to the wall. Do not try to escape, or you will face the consequences.” Hemlock said, not even looking at her. He placed the binders down on the desk and walked around to his chair. He sat down and booted up his communications device. Omega observed the room. It really was a sad little place. She walked over to the capsule on the wall. A small console was on the side of it. Omega checked to make sure Hemlock wasn’t looking at her. He was laser-focused on the comm. She turned back to the console and pressed the buttons to open it. The capsule front hissed air out, as it opened. Hemlock looked up as he noticed the noise. Omega waited for him to get up and scold her, drag her off, do something. He just softly smirked and turned back to the device. Something was wrong. Omega walked to the front of the capsule as it fully opened. Red lights lit up what was in it. Or rather who. Omega’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at the person inside, hooked up to wires and tubes. A heart monitor was attached to him, making that soft beeping noise that indicated a heartbeat. That indicated life. Omega felt a tear roll down her cheek as Tech slowly stirred and woke up.

Part 4

[tqmies]

hiiii! may i request for an nsfw kai x reader f2l with prompt 13 and/or 16? 🙏🙏🙏

Touch | Hueningkai

Part of Tqmies 1K Event!

NSFW , friends to lovers, 16. “Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” wc: 1.01k warnings: sub!hyuka, whining, hand job note: on my hyuka agenda rn !! thank you for requesting :D picked 16 for this one because it felt like it worked better & remember as always, MDNI

"Can you help me with something?" You spoke absentmindedly, Kai looking up from his phone.

"Sure?" He agrees, though he doesn't expect you to hand him a bottle of lotion. And he's even more confused when you start taking your shirt off, the tips of his ears growing bright red, he hopes you don't notice.

You don't though, seemingly by how you have no reaction to him, though he's still really lost. Not that he's mad though, who wouldn't want their crush standing shirtless in front of them?

Even if said crush was his best friend, who was strictly off limits?

He was just a man after all. Eh, he's going to let himself look, even if he felt slightly guilty eyeing you up like this. "What's going on?"

You shrug, "My back hurts, I could use a massage."

He fumbles with his hands, looking down. "And what's the lotion for?"

"So it can go smoother." You quip, taken about by Hueningkai's sudden confusion, but he's normally like this. "I've been super stressed with work, so you're doing me a solid."

He was going to have to touch you? While you were shirtless? Several alarm bells and warning signs were ringing in his poor little head, what if he couldn't help himself? What if he ruined your friendship? What if you hated him forever and threw him out of your house right now?

"Hyuka." You interrupt his thoughts, touching his thighs. When did your hands get there? He's two seconds away from exploding. "Open your legs so I can sit between them."

It just kept getting worse, and he swore his patience was running out. "O-okay." He nods, moving like you asked and you plop right between his mysteriously muscular thighs? Had he been working out, and more so, how had you not noticed?

You straighten yourself, before reaching behind you. "Lotion."

He just hands it to you wordlessly, and you grab his hand from your side, pumping it into his palm. The thick white liquid covering his hand and he can't help but feel flushed at the action.

"Go ahead," You smile, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his lap.

Behind you, the males flustered as his hands begin to hesitantly work your shoulders. You sigh in content and he takes that as a good sign as he continues to lightly press on the area.

And true to his thoughts, you felt his hands were working little less than actual magic. You felt better already, and it had been two minutes. Meanwhile, he was anything but relaxed. In fact, with how tense his shoulders felt, he figured he could give you a run for your money.

He keeps his composure though, falling into a sense of normalacy with an otherwise intimate action.

Then you start whimpering.

They're low at first, small noises falling past your flush lips as hes thanking every star above that you can't see his face.

"Feels so good." You slur out, tilting your head back in pure bliss.

Hueningkai thinks he might die.

You groan out once again, tone high. "You're doing so well."

Hueningkai moves his hands off, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

"Why'd you stop?" You pout, looking behind you.

Because! He thinks. If I have to sit here listening to you make those noises, I'm for sure going to pop a boner! Also I have the fattest crush on you and think of you in a way friends never should.

But he can't say that. So he opts for crossing his arms. "Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.”

“Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” You reply, embarrassed as you rub the back of your neck.

“I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.”

"It's okay." You nod as he places his hands on your back again. "I'll take whatever you give me."

Goodness, would you stop with the innuendos?! You're making it really hard to hold back!

"Hold back?" You ask, a smirk growing on your face.

Had he said that out loud?

"Oh- um, I just meant-" He stammers looking for an excuse, for any way to cover this up.

You turn to face him, hands placed on both his thighs as you watch his face go pale. "Meant what?"

He winces as you lean in. The words slip out under your hardening gaze. "Hold back.. all the things I want to do with you."

"Really?" You tease. "Like what?"

And he notices the way your hands trail up his thighs, your palm pressing onto his clothed hard-on as he thrashes to your touch.

"W-well, want to touch you." He admits.

"Like how I'm touching you?"

"More," He breathes heavily. "Want you to use me."

"Use you?!" You ask, fake gasping as you pretend to be scandalized. Your words not matching your actions as you tug his sweatpants down.

"What're you doing-"

"Keep talking or I'll stop."

"Fuck," He whimpers as you free his hard cock from is confines. Barely enough so the fat head can protrude out. "Wanted this for so long."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, yes." He nods his head, tears forming in his eyes as you rub your thumb over the slit on his dick. "Want you to do what you want to me. Want to be on my knees for you everyday. Want to fuck until our legs are sore."

"Poor baby," You shake your head. "You say you wanted this but I've been waiting for so long. I'm here throwing myself at you and yet no response, I had to make the first move. You've been so oblivious this whole time."

"I'm sorry!" He throws his head back as you continue to move your hand up and down his shaft. He's pretty incoherent as he can feel drool pooling from his mouth, your vice grip being the only thing on his mind. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh I know you will."

[neverchecking]

Maybe some yandere legend headcannons with a reader that dotes on him as they are aware of the things he does for them but loves him back close to a yandere degree and shows public ways of claiming him to other people like sitting in his lap or kissing him so much to the point he turns the same color as his hair.

Legend is like that fugly little rat in the corner that I tried hating but now he's just my baby boy.

Fugly ass rat (affectionately).

This was written under the idea that Reader, when paired with Legend like this, takes no shit. Eats name and takes ass. Stays in drugs, doesn't do school. You know, the Cool kid.

The Cheaper Things in Life

・❥・So, Legend isn't used to open affection. And I know the obvious route is that he's against it, he hates PDA, yadda yadda yadda, BUT-

(It's my comfort character and I'll mis-characterize him if I want to-)

・❥・Hear me out. It's the exact opposite. With the Yandere mindset, Legend is constantly reminded that things can be torn away, just like that`, constantly. Marin was a grim reminder of this fact. Honestly, Legend swore of love entirely because of the trauma the loss of her left him with.

・❥・But then you, in all your divine glory, come bulldozing into his life, probably flipping off his trauma along the way, and throwing him on his ass along the way.

・❥・He didn't even know how to react when you went right up into his face, barking at him to back off from the taunts when he pushed a little too far one too many times.

・❥・He had been stuck falling for you ever since.

・❥・It took a lot of pride time for him to apologize to you, but he did so, gently asking if you could give him a do-over. And to his surprise, you eagerly agreed, holding out his hand with a wide smile. Reintroducing yourself as if every syllable wasn't already branded onto his tongue.

・❥・He played along however with a small tilt to his lips and a cheeky bow-- even going as far as to take off his hat and holding it in the hand that folded against his torso.

・❥・From then on, your interactions become much more amicable. He'd even go as far as to say (Heart-racing, soul cleansing, spirit leaving-) friendly.

・❥・You seem to be a relatively affection 'friend' however. He can't number the amount of times you've bounced up to him, pressed a sin stained peck to his cheek before bounding off with a laugh on your lips and his hat on your head, leaving him sputtering for a second.

・❥・Or how many times you've come to lean on the back of his chair, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders as one of the others goes on about a battle plan.

・❥・Or how many nights you've spent cradled in his close embrace, muffling your sobs into his shoulder as you mourn your life previously lived and have broken his heart with your cries about you miss it.

・❥・He would do it all over again, in a heartbeat though. He would fight Hylia herself should you wish, just to minimize your anguish.

・❥・That all being said, he can't even find himself to think of you two as friends anymore. What sort of friends do that? None that he knows of (Never mind that he never lets anyone close enough to do that sort of thing).

・❥・So you must not be friends! You must be too shy to call him otherwise! Which just wouldn't do. How could he let everyone else know you were his and his alone and he would die to keep you by his side or pit his blade against anyone who dares to try and take your place were taken?

・❥・He's the one to ask you out, sitting on a high enough branch that the others couldn't hear you, but you could still watch over them.

・❥・He took a mental picture of your red-cheeks and flustered expression as you stumbled over your words before ultimately nodding slowly.

・❥・After that, it was as if you had been dating for years rather than hours, days, weeks, etc. He just made it so easy.

・❥・You spoke of him with such awe and grace, like you believed the hero title bestowed upon him. You spoke of the little things he did like they were worth tenfold what the monumental ones were.

・❥・And it was so perfect. You didn't care for all the heroics or the adventures, you cared for him. You didn't care if he could take out armies of bokoblins, no, you cared much more when he took the time to fix a hole in your pants. You didn't care if he had solved more puzzles than he cared to remember, but you did care when he took the time to set your bed mat out near the fire before you got ready for bed to ensure it was warm enough for you before nightfall. You didn't care for all the trinkets and rings and items he had that did incredible things. But you did care when he let you lay against his chest, watching him work through more sewing work, with some tune hummed under his breath.

・❥・Golden three above, he couldn't get enough of you.

・❥・At first, he assumed that you were taking your time to warm up to him, and he was giving you your space to do so lest he chase you right out of his arms and into someone else's He wouldn't let that happen, he wouldn't, not again, not again, notagainnotagainnotagainnotagain- . He was fine with that.

・❥・But when he's talking to some unnamed daughter of a merchant, who's much to talkative and trying way to hard to show off her chest to him-- something he took no interest in, not when he had truly ethereal you-- he figures that no, you are in fact holding yourself back.

・❥・You had gone off to some stall, looking at an assortment of fabrics with Legend following obediently after you, aweing over the different textures and colors as he stood on watch. That was when this...wench appeared, twirling a long lock of red hair around one of her fingers. He merely scoffed at her, turning his attention back to you. You were carefully examining two different red fabrics, pinching them closer together to view them side by side. You had an absolutely adorable little pout on your face that he just ached to kiss. He went to do just that before this HARLOT was getting in his way.

・❥・Could she not get the hint?

・❥・Scathing insults laid on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be fired before your hands, soft and understanding, full of nothing but pure love in touch alone, landed on his bicep. Your gaze was sharp and dangerous, honeyed lips leaking venom as you feigned innocence, asking what she was doing.

・❥・He knew he was completely ruined for anyone else when your smile turned razor edged, now a full blown smirk, and your tone remained saccharine sweet.

・❥・He was down so bad.

・❥・You, without breaking so much as a sweat, much less this character you had donned, tore this witch to absolute shreds, watching with some sort of amused glint in your eye as tears welled in her eyes before she was storming off in an embarrassed huff before you were dragging him in the opposite directions, completely oblivious to his lovesick gaze.

・❥・"Their fabrics were cheap anyway."

・❥・Great Din's tits, he was going to marry you someday.

[batbux]

Bats usually keep an eye on large gatherings in Gotham, but in this case Bruce literally can't pay them enough to do their jobs.

---

In Gotham, large gatherings are always risky business. With half a dozen big name rogues with half a dozen screws loose, things can get out of hand FAST.

So yes, forgive Bruce if he likes having at least two bats or birds on the scene when people group together and make themselves easy targets.

His rag-tag group of children, adult or otherwise, usually agree with him. But in this case-

"I'm not going out of my way to help anti-gay protestors," Tim says before Bruce even let's himself think about which of his partners in anti crime he would like at his back. "I'm the one that green-lit the Wayne Enterprises gay agenda that they're protesting."

"That's... Fair."

And it was! Bruce was hardly going to force his bisexual son to save people that would tear him down if given half the chance. He'd demanded far too selflessness of Tim already.

It was just... No one else was volunteering either.

---

Dick, alerted by Tim about the group of anti-gay protestors planning their little event on Facebook, takes one look at Bruce approaching and shakes his head.

"I've heard what they said about my baby brother," he cautions before Bruce can say anything.

Tim, out and secure in his identity, doesn't care what any civilians have to say about him. Dick, deeply angry and protective, cares very much what slander people sling at his little brother.

Bruce, understanding that maybe his eldest was getting better about managing his anger, but deeply unwilling to test his resolve, nods and backs away.

---

Damian is his next choice, though he doesn't hold very high hopes for him either.

"Father, I will not be responsible for the safety of fools willingly endangering themselves," Damian says, reasonably and Bruce is glad to hear it. He has a whole speech about protecting civilians even if they act in defiance of their own safety. It's blown to pieces when Damian explains further. "I've already taken the liberty of inviting Jon and his paramour to heckle them."

"No metas in Gotham," Bruce says before his brain can catch up to his mouth. "This is already a tense situation and-"

"No metas in Gotham," Damian repeats, pitching his voice lower as he mocks his father. "What do you propose Duke is, Father?"

This is an argument he isn't willing to have. Not right now. He puts a pin in it and reaches out to Jon to politely request that he doesn't make an appearance at the protest. Jon concedes in exchange for his permission to come to Gotham's pride event next week. Bruce gives it under the stipulation that Jon and Jay let him give them a full primer on Gotham rogues and how to counter them.

---

Stephanie is somehow warned in advance and texts him before he can reach out to her.

"sorry not sorry, if doctors in Texas can choose to let people die then so can I. ask someone else to help w your homophobe problem"

Bruce wants to point out that is a gross simplification of the fraught political state of Texas. He also wants to point out that they are nowhere near Texas.

He wonders about the feasibility of sponsoring abortion access and trans healthcare in another state if only because it is GENUINELY funny when bigots with talk shows get into a tizzy over Brucie Wayne.

He lets the thought lie for the moment.

---

Duke hears him out, at least, before telling him that he's really sorry, B, but he's gonna be sick that day. It's all very sad, has he tried to talk to Jason?

---

Cass looks at him. He looks at her. They both know she won't be his backup.

---

He hates to say it, but Jason WAS his last choice in this situation. Not for lack of trust or faith in his abilities, but because-

"I'm asking Aunt Harley to have Poison Ivy start a pollen induced gay orgy," he says bluntly when Bruce asks if Jason would be busy on the day of the protest.

"At the-"

"At Wayne Enterprises, for the protest. Yes. Stay away if you value your heterosexuality, old man."

Bruce, remembering his college days and the types of things he's gotten up to in his own time, doesn't correct his son. Revealing that his father was intimately familiar with gay sex isn't a conversation Bruce ever wanted to have with Jason. Or anyone else.

Bruce, wisely, lets the police handle the protest.

[halfadoginatank]

Simon and his father take a trip to the Scottish highlands for the summer, he knows only one of them will leave.

Johnny is a boy obsessed with filming explosions from fireworks he's not supposed to have.

Los Vaqueros are a group of Mexican teens derailed from their field trip waiting for teachers that might not come back.

Huge lore and plot dump below.

Mild tw for Simons father

Simons father has always taken him on hunting trips, sometimes he hated them, some times he liked them. But he'd never taken him this far from manchester. There are weapons in the cabin they rent, his father is eerily sober, one of them is going to die out here. Simon can only hope that Tommy won't be next.

Johnny meets him when he strays too far from his father. Part of it on purpose, he would never be on equal footing, more so when his father had the rifle and not him. He's in the tree's, at first simon thinks its prey, but there's a camera lense staring right at his scope.

Los Vaqueros come later, the leader arguing with a girl with choppy hair, Valeria and Alejandro trade glares while Rodolfo tries to mediate. Their bus broke down, leaving them stuck in town desperately renting a cabin near but far from the one simon is in.

It's the most interesting thing thats happened to johnny, and in the makeshift bonfire Valeria corners him and Simon. Her gaze is snakelike and a ring clinks on the bottle she's holding

"You say that he's an asshole yes? Your padre. Mine was the same, en mi opinión? It is kill or be killed."

Valeria nods at Alejandro, she tells them of a faceless force where she's from. The person sponsoring the trip for them, 'good will'. The five of them band together, the rest of the Vaqueros utterly ignorant.

Simon will save his family, Alejandro will get them home, and johnny? He's going to make the best home video.

-

Yeah so thats the whole plot, originally it was just going to be ghoap but somehow the Vaqueros fell into place. It kind of made more sense to have Valeria give them the idea? She doesnt have a whole bunch of canon lore so I figured she'd have an in with the cartel via her father, who was awful. And when Valeria killed him the nameless helped her cover it up and she got her own little spot.

Alejandro broke off their relationship after that, it's why they're on bad terms. He formed the Vaqueros as a funny joke that he started to take seriously when kids around Las Almas genuinely needed help that wasnt someway connected to the cartel, adults had that with rudys mother, so Ale and his childhood friend Rudy decided to help people their age in a way that doesn't rely on adults too much.

Everyone here is about 16-18. Soap is 17, ghost is as well but a few months older. Rudy Alejandro and Valeria are 18. And the youngest cowboy is 16.

Im trying to fit Gaz and Alex in? Im thinking that they both live in Texas, Gazs parents had a falling out since mum was from Texas hes there. Their school is on the same trip in the same bus a sort of cross trip to help the shitty american public school get a better name, as well as the cartels big PR move with having a class from one of Las Almas' schools.

Johnny is a bit weird here, but his motivation is he's suffering from extreme middle kid issues. Loves his family but since he's almost invisible is able to just kinda run off as long as hes back home eventually. He has a camera he uses to film any of his mishaps with, its essentially just jackass. As well as a video diary. Dont be fooled, its also an excuse for me to write some of it in script like format.

Simon is almost exactly the same as he is in the 09 comics, obviously a bit different. But childhood is the same.

I wanted farah to be here so bad but her childhood is literally a warzone and theres no way I can get her and her brother in Scotland. Because im trying so hard to make this somewhat believable, like yes its is a summer mystery horror au. But god I just really need things to make a little sense otherwise I cant do it. Same with Price Nik and Laswell. Like I could group Laswell in with Alex and gaz, and maybe I could pair her with Valeria for funsies. However Nikolai is in russia so... oopsie, and price? Like... how do you turn price into a teenager, he'd be what 19 or 20? Theres no reason he'd be in school, I dont think he'd be held back.

Also you may wonder, why is graves not here? Uh.... because I dont care, he wouldn't have a place here. The antagonist is Simons father, and honestly man? I just dont care that much for his character.

Man theres... theres so much I have here dude, I want to throw roach in there, and I THINK I could squeeze him in as one of ghosts school mates but the point is the first act has Simon completely isolated.

Anyway thats it. Bye.