#i really wanna kill em with kindness

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Ah Yes, Let's Withhold Funding For People In California Because "Budget Reasons" When It's Really Because They're Liberal

[cryptotheism]

I hope this doesn't come off as disrespectful, because I'm genuinely curious, but like...is alchemy "real"? Because the way you speak about it is how I wish I could, myself, appreciate it and you're the closest I've ever found to a real world wizard which excites me a great deal. I totally respect if for you it's actually just an interesting academic study without intention, I'm just curious for how you view it in that lens.

No that's a good question!

Short answer: Yes, as in alchemists were real people who could actually do cool shit sometimes, but they weren't actually transmuting lead into gold, you need a particle accelerator for that.

In the 4th century, you weren't a scientist, that word hadn't been invented yet. You were a Natural Philosopher. You studied everything from the stars, to mathematics, to medicine, to the nature of herbs and stones.

In the medieval era, you weren't an astronomer, you were an astrologer. Telling people's horoscopes involved a lot of astronomical math. There wasn't really a difference between astronomy and astrology.

In the renaissance era, you weren't a chemist. The term chemist didn't exist yet. You were an alchemist. You tried to make gold sometimes, but you also manufactured dyes, glass vessels, cosmetics, paints, and medicines. You were kind of a whitesmith, and a glass-blower, and a doctor, and sometimes just a con-man.

Alchemy and chemistry have a relationship similar to Astrology and Astronomy. But, don't think of alchemy as just "Chemistry with magic." Alchemy is the father of modern chemistry. It is the cocoon that chemistry sprouted out of.

The thing is, alchemy is more "real" than astrology is. You know what a common use of astrology was in the medieval era? Diagnosing diseases. You'd check someone's horoscope to determine what medicine to give them. This didn't work. A medieval astrology textbook isn't going to be useful for diagnosing why your stomach hurts.

But!

Medieval alchemy texts are actually useful sometimes. If you want to dye some copper so it looked more like gold, there are alchemy texts that can tell you how to do that. If you want to distill the mercury out of some cinnabar, alchemists could do that. They didn't really know how or why that worked, but they could do it! If you want a potion that could make you immortal, the alchemists could make a philter of mercury and lead that would definitely 100% kill you and it would hurt the whole time you were dying. You can't win em all.

Im writing about the history of alchemy on my patreon if you wanna support me!

[whyamihereat4am]

my favourite thing about chuuya nakahara is that he's just kind of. chill. about everything. he's like, my tragic backstory has no hold on me, i went to therapy and i'm all good now. i'm a bad guy cuz it pays good and my found family happens to be here. what do you mean that's not a good reason, you a cop or something?

someone will betray him and he'll go ok well that's pretty upsetting. they probably had a good reason though. i'll forgive them if they let me get a good punch in. if they're really just a hater they're giving me bad vibes and i don't wanna deal with 'em at all tbh.

things have been done to him that would warrant a lifelong crusade of revenge for anyone else, but for chuuya nakahara it's just, that was super not cool but i'll let it slide if you get therapy with me.

chuuya is down for any crime and thinks moral boundaries are for losers and stuff but he's the nicest guy in the port mafia when it comes to not mistreating his subordinates and probably helps old ladies cross the street. he shows up for a solid 10-20 minutes of screentime per season and makes all the fans fall in love with him while doing the bare minimum, and despite technically being a villain i don't think he's worked against the agency a single time (although to be fair this is often not on purpose). he also does the bare minimum every time he's asked to help in-universe and clearly isn't even trying, and he sweeps anyway because he is ridiculously overpowered and could probably kill literally everyone if he actually wanted to, and i just. no one is doing it like him. you go you unbothered king.

[kittyotics]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS

NOTE: haiiii guys! this is my first tumblr blog - post - whatever lol. i am chronically on here looking at astrology stuff and cute mood boards, so why not participate in both lol. lmk how i did for the first time; k bye!

best viewed in dark mode.

|ᝰ.𖦹 i've noticed that gemini suns are soooo unpredictable to guess in terms of physicality. like you'd have to go through your whole astrologer questionnaire lol. idk they just don't have "a look", they're fluid asf too!

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 pisces suns are high liability CRASHOUTS... well all pisces placements; but they're like the elders who lived a long life & don't gaf about the tide cause they've been here for so long (or least it feels like it lol). 

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 ya wanna know who the real yappers are venus/mercury 3rd housers (*giggles*). i would know as my venus is in the 3rd house lol. of course this varies by the aspects/associations with other planets.

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 having jupiter 12th house can make the 12th house less... 12th housey? the 12th house being whats hidden, old age, subconscious mind, karma, & endings while jupiter being the planet of expansion, luck, & philosophies can really uncover the 12th house persona in everyday life. whether its in karma, lessons or with elders. think of jupiter as a big ass magnifying glass or highlighter.

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 cancer suns can either come off two ways: calm, observant, & nurturing or vain, disciplinary & sharp (which is capricorn; cancers sister sign). i have an aunt who's a cancer but she talks like an capricorn with livid emotions. her daughter too is a cancer but that is my BABYYY like i fight real good for her- fists n all!

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 chiron 2nd housers may have wounds/issues around their valuables in life. in early childhood they've may have been in a lower class position or found themselves in a lower class positions regarding money, valuables, & income. (like different pay rate than other coworkers)

edit: so someone commented that they actually had a really good relationship with money & this can be the case too! you can heal the wounded with your valuables or personal assets too!

-

|ᝰ.𖦹 venus aspecting pluto (conj. sq. sextile- all aspects) in your natal chart can be applied to the native in two MAIN ways: KINDNESS! now i say this all the time; there's a diffrence in being kind and in being nice... this placement either just makes the person super kind, i mean like "kill 'em with kindness" type kind or they could be power hungry in terms of vanity or praise... like the fishing for compliments type or mean popular girl/guy type. it just depends on the native & the charts aspects aswell!

---

END NOTE: ok! now i know this is a lil short, but again this is my first attempt at posting stuff like this lol. hopefully you guys like it... or find it even. im going to sleep its 5:01 AM rn.

thank you for reading, until next time!

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hi!! just wanna say you are my fav gravity falls author and im so obsessed with your fics for stan 🙏🙏 could i please have a stan x fem!reader smut where stan just REALLY likes tits. like a LOT. you have full creative freedom to go wherever you want with this idea i just wholeheartedly believe stan is a tit man <3 thank u and plz never delete this account youre the coolest 💞

Stan Pines is obsessed with you and your breasts ♡ (headcanons + blurb)

author note: hii, angel!! thank you sm for this sweet message, i'm literally melting and giggling and smiling rn!!! i can't even tell you how much this made my day, you're so kind and your words honestly mean the world to me 🤍 

i had so much fun with this idea, so here’s something for you bc ur wish is my command! i hope it’s what u expected. and thank you for supporting me! ♡

I need this grumpy old man so bad, guys send me more asks bout him also comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, kisses u💋

nsfw, fem reader

♡ Stan is absolutely shamelessly obsessed with tits. your tits, specifically. big, small, somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter! he’s a hungry fucking man. he fucking loves breasts. worships them. adores them. can’t keep his damn eyes (or hands, or mouth) off them. “you’re gonna kill me with these things, doll, fuckin’ hell, look at ‘em.”

♡ the first time you caught him staring, you were a little shy about it, but he didn’t even try to deny it. “what? they’re right there! whaddya want me to do, not look? it’s like puttin’ a steak in front of a starving man and tellin’ him not to eat!” and you made the mistake of saying, “you could touch them if you wanted to.”

♡ because now his hands are always on you. always. you’re trying to cook? his big hands are sliding up your shirt, squeezing, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples, he’s testing just how fast he can make that little gasp slip from your lips. and god, all of that is being done with that smug grin on his face. “what? i’m helpin’.” sure, Stan. sure

♡ I wanna develop idea about cooking more, so: as i said, Stan can’t keep his hands off you when you’re cooking. for him it’s just an excuse to get his hands on your body. expect him to come up behind you, press his broad chest into your back, let his hands rest in your waist as his lips ghost over your neck, muttering “damn, you look so pretty, baby, you sure you don’t wanna skip dinner and come straight to bed?” when he’s rubbing his growing bulge against you while you’re stirring the pot, literally humping you in the middle of the kitchen. It’s hard not to laugh at how desperate he is

♡ the type of man who’ll insist he’s innocent even when he’s shamelessly and obviously staring. you could be fully dressed, wearing the baggiest clothes known to man and this filthy old bastard is still eye-fucking you. “what? can’t help it, doll, you’re beautiful.” no shame. zero!

♡ of course Stan loves to bury his face in your chest. it’s his happy place there. his hands sliding up your sides as he presses his face between your breasts, groaning, “fuckin’ heaven, toots. yer like a damn pillow, but better, so soft, so warm.” while you let your fingers run through his hair. It’s more about being intimate and soft though

♡ “goddamn, look at these beauties. best fuckin’ view in the world, ain’t it?”

♡ he’s a sucker for leaving marks on your breasts. bite marks, hickeys, little bruises from his teeth and fingers

♡ uhh. . . hear me out, him stuffing dollar bills into your bra as a joke (or no). “figure they’re safer here than my wallet anyway.”

♡ Stan loves when you wear anything that lets him see your nipples, especially when they’re hard (from cold or because you’re horny?), he goes crazy when thin shirt or a dress hugs your body. “goddamn, sweetie, could stare at those for hours.”

♡ his guilty pleasure is watching you put lotion on after a shower. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing the cream over your arms, shoulders and chest and that old man is drooling

♡ Stan is so domestic, he loves the way you look in the morning, your breasts barely covered by his tank top that you stole. you stretch, yawning, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and he’s already pulling you back into bed. “don’t care what we had planned today, baby. yer stayin’ right here with me.”

♡ Stanley gets so distracted when you’re undressing in front of him. doesn’t matter if it’s casual or if you’re trying to tease him, once your top comes off, his eyes are immediately glued to you while his cock already twitching to life in his pants. “jesus christ, woman, yer tryin’ to kill me. c’mere and let me get my hands on ya.”

♡ and when he finally gets you laid out on the bed, his hands worshiping every inch of you, oh, he takes his sweet time. dragging his thumbs over the stiff peaks of your nubs, leaning down to wrap his lips around one, sucking gently before giving it a teasing bite. he’s grinning against your skin when you gasp his name, one hand slipping down to spread your thighs apart while he gets comfortable between them. “love when you make these sounds. what’d i do to deserve this, huh?”

♡ oh, his tongue too. it’s wet and warm, circling slow before he flicks the nub just to watch your back arch. his free hand squeezes your other breast, pinching and tugging lightly on the nipple. he groans from how heavenly you taste. “softest damn tits I’ve ever had my hands on. christ, baby, I love you so much.”

♡ if you let him, he’ll press his cock between your breasts, his hands squishing them together as he ruts into the softness, groaning like a goddamn mess. “fuck, baby— mhmm, your so fuckin’ soft, look at this, huh? takin’ me so good, atta girl.”

♡ more thoughts about breasts fuck. i personally think Stan would love it? because there’s something about the sight of his heavy cock sliding between your breasts, the way you press them together for him, making a perfect, soft little channel for him to fuck into like a needy old man he is. he gasps, praises you, worships you whole as he watches himself disappear between them, his tip slick and glistening with precum every time it peaks out

♡ “fuck, doll, keep squeezin’ ’em like that. jesus, yer gonna make me cum just from lookin’ at ya.” and he does, oh, he does. he spills his seed all over your chest. and when he’s finished, Stan isn’t shy about making a mess, watching his cum drip down your breasts

♡ when he’s drunk, Stan gets even more handsy than usual

♡ you get him worked up sometimes by accident. like, when you’re reaching for something high up on a shelf and your shirt rides up, giving him the perfect view of your waist, those soft curves that drive him absolutely crazy. Stan will mumble something like “god, babe—gimme a second, I gotta go fix somethin’ in the back room. . . you know how it is with my old bones.” but it’s all a damn lie because he just needs to take a breather after staring at your body for the last five minutes

♡ Stan absolutely loves when you’re riding him, leaning over with your tits pressed into his face. he doesn’t care if it’s just for a few seconds or longer, he wants to feel them on his lips. he’ll lift his head slightly to suck on your cute nipples or trail hot kisses down your cleavage, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes his hips up to meet you. “sh-shit, baby, lemme just. . .”

♡ you lean over the counter while talking to him, doesn’t matter if you’re talking about what’s for dinner or how the vending machine ate your dollar, his eyes are locked on your chest only, already undressing you in his mind. he’ll mutter something gruff like, “yeah, uh-huh”

♡ loves to make you squirm. Stan’s a teasing bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple slowly, watching it pebble under his touch. “sensitive today, huh? what’s the matter, sweetheart? thought ya liked it when i played with these pretty little nubs of yours.” and then he pinches, just to hear you gasp and watch you press your thighs together 

♡ i swear, Stan will make excuses to get you on his lap, just so he can slide his hands under your clothes and play with you while you sit there all flustered, giggling silly. “ain’t no law against touchin’ my girl, is there? c’mon, lemme have my fun, been thinkin’ about these all damn day.”

♡ as I mentioned, he’s a sucker for when you’re on top, bouncing on his cock while his big hands squeeze your waist, holding you so tenderly in his arms despite how hard and rough he bucks his hips into you, his mouth is latched onto your nipples. the way your breasts move drives him insane

♡ during lazy, slow sex, Stan loves lying on his side with you pressed against him, one hand massaging your breast as he thrusts into you slowly from behind. his lips are at your ear, whispering filthy things about how soft and warm you feel

♡ but when it’s rough, he’s gripping your breasts so hard you’ll have finger-shaped bruises the next day, pinching your nipples just to watch you arch your back and tremble under him, “you like that, huh? that’s right, my good fucking girl,” and every word he says he punctuates with a thrust. “can’t get enough of me touchin’ you, can ya?”

♡ reminder: Stan doesn’t just love your breasts because they’re sexy, though, yeah, they are. he loves them because they’re yours. soft, warm, comforting, just like you. and if he can bury his face in them and forget about the rest of the world for a little while? that’s just the cherry on top! a nice bonus!

♡ bonus: little blurb 

sight of you in his suit jacket, oh god. that thing swallows you whole but it’s too big for you so it hangs off your shoulders, exposing your skin, letting him see your thighs as well. Stan’s jacket, smelling like cigars, is over you in a way that makes his throat go dry. and underneath that beautiful little bra you knew would make his head spin, it’s lace and soft cups hugging you in ways he wished his hands were right now. your cleavage drawing his attention like a magnet. no, it’s too goddamn much for Stan to handle

he’s slouched on the armchair, legs spread wide, trying to keep himself from losing control. his eyes latch onto the soft lace of your bra, the way it cups your tits just beautiful enough to tease him. he looks so needy already and you’ve barely touched him

“Jesus christ, doll.” sounds like he’s choking on his own breath. “yer doin’ this on purpose, parading around in my jacket, showin’ off these tits like some goddamn pin-up doll, huh.” his lips curl into a smirk

perfect, just exact reaction you waited. you bite your lip, stepping closer, swaying your hips for him. you play it coy, of course. shifting the jacket like it’s just slipping off, letting one strap of your bra peek out more. “what? this old thing?” you smile like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing

and then he’s got his hands on you in an instant, dragging you into his lap because he can’t stand another second of his pretty girl being out of reach. his palms feels rough as they grip your hips, tugging you down until your thighs straddle his.

“you tryin’ to kill me, toots? walkin’ around like that, wearin’ my jacket.”  

your knees settle on either side of him, and his hands waste no time sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and straight to your waist, holding you close to him because this man is always starved for physical contact. his thumbs dip under the edge of the jacket, brushing the bare skin just above your bra

“Staaanley,” you breathe, your lips hovering just above his. your hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“No, no, no, don’t you ‘stan’ me, pretty,” he mutters, and one of his hands slips behind your back to unclasp your bra with a flick of his fingers, the other cupping your breast like he’s been dying to touch you all day. “you don’t get to tease me like that, wearin’ this fuckin’ outfit, and then say my name like some innocent little thing. you know exactly what you’re doin’, don’tcha?”

his thumb brushes over your nipple and then his lips follow, placing wet and hot kisses along your breast, sucking gently before biting down to make you gasp.  

“That’s it,” he groans against your skin. “wanna hear all those pretty little sounds you make, baby. fuck, you’ve got me harder than a goddamn rock.”  

he’s saying true because you feel the evidence of that pressing against your core, even through your panties. his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers pressing against the damp fabric and you whimper when he rubs slow circles over your needy clit.  

Stan grins as he pushes the lace aside. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. all this from me touchin’ your tits? jesus, doll, yer even dirtier than i thought.”

his fingers tease your wet entrance, rubbing over your folds before dipping inside, and your head falls against his shoulder, moaning as he pumps them slow and deep.  

“C’mon, baby,” Stanley brushes his lips over your ear as he fucks you with his fingers, his other hand still kneading your breast. “tell me who you belong to. say my name, and i’ll give you everything you want. everything. I’ll fuck you so good.”

you moan his name, digging your nails into his shoulders 

“Yes, that’s it,” his hand moves faster. “gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

[mulletmitsuya]

Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (Final Timeline)

Warnings: suggestive (i might have to change this warning to "mentions of sexual content" bcs it's too tame of a warning for the stuff that's actually in here), swearing, the word "pedophile" is mentioned, mentions of substance abuse

Desc: Everyone finds out Takemitchy and Mikey are time leapers, which leads to some...interesting questions

Mitsuya: so let me get this straight

Mitsuya: you're a time traveler, and you've lived dozens of timelines to prevent Hina from dying but she kept dying anyway but then when you got to one where she didn't die, Mikey was some deranged criminal lord and was miserable and depressed and tried to kill himself so you had to go back in time again to make sure everything was fixed but ended up dying while fighting Mikey but then somehow you both went back in time and rewrote all of our entire lives??

Takemitchy: yeah...

Baji: cap

Mikey: it's not

Mitsuya: so Mikey's a time traveler too?

Mikey: yeah it's crazy i know

Draken: do you guys have any way to prove this?

Chifuyu: this explains why i keep getting random visions of me in alternate universes. holy shit

Haruchiyo: weird ass prank

Takemitchy: i think it happened since you're close to me and we basically did everything together. i'm not sure

Inupi: we're just gonna believe this?

Koko: wait, i kind of do

Kisaki: this...defies all logic of anything ever.

Mikey: shut up Kisaki

Mikey: i'm sorry it's just that in ever other timeline you've ruined my life so it's difficult to be nice to you sometimes

Kisaki: so you don't like me because of something i did in another universe?

Takemitchy: *timeline

Mikey: yeah. my bad

Baji: i'm gonna entertain this cause i'm bored but what was i like in other timelines

Mikey: dead

Baji: ...all of em?

Mikey: yeah, it kinda drove me to insanity

Baji: damn

Baji: why?

Mikey: you killed yourself to save Kazutora

Baji: what was the context

Mikey: long story

Baji: there wasn't any other way?

Mikey: you're kinda pissing me off cause that's what i was wondering, actually

Baji: damn

Kazutora: thanks man. appreciate it🙏

Kazutora: i'll slobber on your meat later, as a proper thank you

Baji: i'd appreciate that. thanks homie🙌

Koko: what about me?

Baji: you wanna slobber on my meat? i mean i won't stop you. as long as i can call you kitten.

Koko: ...i was talking about me in alternate universe's😐

Takemitchy: i don't think we should go there guys. there's too many timelines, and not everything was exactly the same. and also in general it was a really traumatizing experience for me and i kind of want to end my life every time i think about it

Hanma: womp womp. what about me???

Mikey: murderer

Hanma: YESSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭

Hanma: THANK GOD, I KNEW IF I COULDN'T DO IT HERE, MULTIVERSE ME WOULD HAVE LIVED THE DREAM

Hanma: are me and Tetta-san together in every universe

Mikey: surprisingly, yes

Hanma: and he denies we're soulmates😔

Kisaki: i will not hesitate to get another restraining order

Hanma: a piece of paper won't stand in my way. let's get married

Kisaki: i will call the police

Draken: guys are we really entertaining this?

Mikey: you went to jail in one of the timelines and you were bald LMAO

Draken: sure

Baji: why'd he go to jail?

Mikey: these guys killed Emma and Ken-chin took revenge

Baji: respectable

Mikey: he was given a death sentence

Baji: that's tough fr

Ran: i'm kinda curious

Ran: humour me, what was i like?? was i famous?

Mikey: you were a criminal. killed people

Ran: sounds about right if i'm being honest

Ran: and Haruchiyo and Rindou?

Haruchiyo: leave me out of Takemitchy's psychotic episodes

Haruchiyo: i think you have a hallucination/delusion disorder or something

Mikey: but don't you believe me?

Haruchiyo: ...

Haruchiyo: Mikey, you're also pretty mentally ill

Mikey: says you???

Haruchiyo: i just have substance abuse problems and i'm getting clean so...

Mikey: GUYS I'M TELLING THE TRUTH I SWEAR

Mikey: I'VE BEEN GOING CRAZY KEEPING THIS A SECRET

Draken: when was the last time you slept?

Mikey: ☹️

Baji: guys just play pretend.

Rindou: what about me?

Mikey: same as your brother just uh, less gay and slutty?

Rindou: story of my life

Inupi: you didn't do Koko

Mikey: criminal

Koko: the whole time?

Mikey: yeah

Mikey: Inupi got normal at some point because he and Ken-chin got close and they fixed bikes together and had sex

Inupi: Draken????

Draken: you're really starting to piss me off.

Mikey: Akane died in the fire though like she was BURNT

Takemitchy: uh Mikey-kun...

Mikey: she was a crisp i'm telling you

Mikey: Inupi you had an ugly red scar on your face and no one wanted you

Mikey: Izana i know you're reading this, you were fucking insane dude like you killed Emma for some fucking reason then Kisaki shot you 3 times in the chest and you died while having a really bad mental breakdown. it was a major L on your part

Chifuyu: Mikey why are you leaving out the fact that the common denominator in every single timeline was that you killed every single one of your friends in the most brutal ways possible🤨?

Mikey: no comment

Smiley: how'd he kill me?

Chifuyu: uhhh

Chifuyu: Takemitchy help me out here

Takemitchy: i don't want to talk about it😐

Chifuyu: I REMEMBER

Chifuyu: backshot

Smiley: ...

Smiley: he killed me by giving me backshots..?

Smiley: i would NEVER take it from behind

Smiley: especially from MIKEY

Smiley: small dick having ass

Smiley: my bootyhole is not to be messed with

Smiley: i'm so pissed off right now holy shit

Smiley: how did i even die???? dick so good it killed me?

Smiley: i'm so angry

Angry: and i'm Smiley😂

Baji: 3/10 joke 👎, poor delivery, fell flat

Smiley: i hope you kill yourself, Mikey

Mikey: trust me, i've tried

Chifuyu: ???

Chifuyu: he shot you in the back with a gun?

Chifuyu: what's wrong with you

Smiley: oh my bad i though you meant like, he was taking me doggy style

Smiley: i'm no bottom

Ran: what is happening

Chifuyu: i'm moving on😐

Chifuyu: Hakkai was tied to a chair and burnt to death

Hakkai: wha-

Hakkai: WHAT DID I DO??

Hakkai: jesus 😟

Chifuyu: why am i getting all these memories, i'm freaking out

Hakkai: Mikey please tell me what i did to deserve that ☹️

Mikey: idk Hakkai i was going through a lot

Draken: have you been diagnosed with anything?

Mikey: i don't need a diagnosis bcs i'm fine now, you're all alive and i don't have any murderous intent!!! yippee🤗

Mikey: isn't this great Takemitchy??

Takemitchy: well, yeah no ones dead so that's great

Izana: this is obviously completely fabricated

Izana: are you guys that bored?

Senju: man for all that time traveling you sure are a shit boyfriend😭

Takemitchy: how????

Takemitchy: did Hina say that☹️??

Senju: it's an observation

Senju: you've had way too many coincidental close calls with other woman💀

Draken: yeah you pissed me off when you thought i was gifting you a prostitute. you had a whole ass girlfriend. shame on you

Senju: and you also almost slept with Emma and you "don't remember"

Smiley: Mitchy's low-key funny as hell because what do you mean you stripped yourself and another girl down to your underwear by accident

Baji: wouldn't Takemitchy be a pedophile then?? Emma was 13 dawg🤨

Mikey: he was 14 though😭

Baji: you're gonna ride Takemitchy's dick to defend him from trying to sleep with your 13 year old sister??? crazy

Baji: wasn't be mentally 26🤨?

Baji: bro i'm gonna beat your ass actually

Mikey: hmm

Mikey: you know what Mitchy, why did you do that 🤨?

Smiley: LMFAOO

Mitsuya: why did i come back to Takemitchy facing pedophile allegations, like what's going on right now

Kazutora: is it not enough that he changed the space and time continuum just to be with his girl?

Kazutora: cheating this cheating that, my boy deserves all the pussy he wants

Kazutora: he's been beaten, shot, stabbed AND killed

Kazutora: i personally believe he's the goat

Baji: ?

Chifuyu: goat is an acronym for "greatest of all time", Baji-san

Baji: what's an acronym

Chifuyu: i'll dm

Kazutora: bro you're so fucking stupid😭

Draken: i don't care if he was skinned alive by an orangutan, there's no excuse to cheat on someone

Rindou: i think being skinned alive by an orangutang warrants having more than one girl. idk that's just me tho

Ran: not the point that's being made rn

Rindou: what exactly is the point that's being made

Rindou: is this real. are we being serious.

Rindou: i don't think i get the joke

Haruchiyo: i think we should all stop talking now

Mikey: Mitchy we need to talk a bit

Takemitchy: i told you this was a bad idea

[ofstoriesandstardust]

i bet on losing dogs (t.o./k.c.)

a/n: i watched this film less than 48 hours ago and i'm already unwell. here is my kate and tyler angst but mostly kate! tyler was a moment but kate was the whole movie!

summary: Somewhere along the way, you end up in Kate and Tyler's orbit. They've got you. (tyler owens/kate cooper/female reader)

warnings: tornadoes, i'm from california cut me some slack, angst with a hopeful ending, nightmares, hurt/comfort, temporary character death

word count: 4.1k

It’s by chance you ever end up in the path of the Wranglers and into Tyler and Kate’s lives. 

They aren’t even looking for someone to help manage the team but even Boone and Lilly can admit that with the attention they’re getting, they need someone who can keep up. 

So by chance, by luck, or all because of a tornado, Tyler ends up connecting with you through a friend of his from UA. 

The job description is unorganized chaos, simply put. Managing the crew on a day to day basis is enough, not to mention helping them manage the finances, stay within legal code, managing the social media, and getting their foots in the door for grants and sponsors. 

Boone’s convinced you’ll run screaming from the team all the way back to the city, Javi too, but it actually ends up to be a seamless fit. 

You help Lilly and Boone with the sales, the production of merch, and all the channels. You’re even the one who sets up a Tiktok, their donations and attention increasing tenfold. You research grants and donors for Javi and Kate and you help Tyler source new equipment for the team. 

When all is said and done, three months have flown by and Tyler is forever grateful you’d been blown into their path. You’ve blossomed with this crew and they’re changed because of it. 

Not to mention the way you’ve grown into Kate and Tyler’s relationship. Although they never say it, unsure of how to fold you into their dynamic, you’re there in ways that complement their already existing chemistry. 

Kate’s quite fond of you too, he knows. He would’ve seen it a million miles away, the way Kate’s eyes had sparkled meeting you, the way they do in the field. But she’d say the same about him, citing the way he goes soft for you in a way he’d only ever done for Kate. 

The problem is - he still can’t figure out how you even managed to end up here. 

“C’mon.” Javi says, nudging you. “How the hell does a city girl like you find her way to hell’s corner in Oklahoma, managing a bunch ragtag storm chasers?” 

You shrug, fiddling with your beer bottle, glancing out at the group sat around the crackling fire. You and Javi are sat a top Ty’s truck, the crew looking intently at you. “You just asking or you really wanna know?”

The group breaks into various calls, corralling you into telling them. 

“It’s kind of a long story.” You defend, a sheepish grin growing on your face. 

Javi nudges your shoulder again. “C’mon, tell us. We barely know anything about you city girl.”

“A couple months ago, at the start of tornado season, I was in Texas, for a friends joint bachelor/bachelorette party. We were at a rodeo and I had gotten separated from the group. An EF4 hit the place out of nowhere and I wasn’t able to get back to the shelter in time. I’ve always been terrified of tornadoes, we don’t got ‘em where I’m from, but- that was something else.” You shake your head, shaking off the memories. “I should’ve died. It should’ve killed me, but it didn’t. And all I could think of was that I had been given a second chance, just barely. And what I was doing just didn’t make sense anymore.” 

Boone lets out a low whistle as Javi’s hand finds your shoulder. Tyler can feel Kate tense in concern, his own brows furrowed. 

“Within the week, I’d quit my job, got rid of all my stuff, dumped my boyfriend, and broken my lease. I didn’t know where the hell I was going but I knew I couldn’t stay there. I just needed to- to find somewhere, someplace, where I could do something tangible. I kept thinking that what I lived through was only a sliver of a glimpse into what y’all experience your whole lives out here and I- I just wanted to help.”

“So you found the Wranglers.” Lilly finishes and you nod. 

“When I’d left town, I gave Lainey a call. Her and her fiancé had been the one hosting us at their ranch for the trip and asked Lainey if she knew of anything I could do, any place I could go. Next thing I know I’m on a plane to Oklahoma and some self-proclaimed tornado wrangler I’ve never heard of is picking me up from the airport.” 

“Is this why you refuse to go storm chasing with us?” Boone calls out as Tyler sits up straighter in his chair, Kate shifting as he does. 

“Hold on a damn minute.” He asks, the group falling silent. “Lainey’s fiancé, Smith, he’d been killed at a rodeo just this year.” 

Your eyes are cautious when they meet his. “Smith gave his life for mine. He’s the one who got me to safety and he paid for it. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it.” 

It goes silent in the group as you avert your eyes. After a few moments, you slide down the front of Tyler’s truck, chucking your beer in the trash. 

“It ain’t your fault, you know.” Tyler calls out as you begin to walk away from the group. 

You freeze. 

“These tornados, they ain’t what they used to be. They take and take. Weather cares little of the price of human life.” Tyler says. 

“Those reports you see on the news, they’re true. They’re getting worse every year, that’s why we’re out here. It’s why you’re out here.” Javi follows up as you turn back to face the group. “We’re gonna find a way, to make things better. We’ll never be able to stop the weather, not completely, but maybe we can find a way to keep up with it.” 

“It’s okay to admit I’m not contributing much. I mean I don’t know shit about science and I don’t want to get near a tornado for the rest of my life. I’m-“ 

“Helping.” Kate protests. “You are. You might not think it but you are. We could barely do this on our own, we need you.” 

You’re hesitant to accept Kate’s words for what they are but the group seems to be giving their consensus and Tyler’s beckoning you over to him and Kate. 

“Listen,” He says, once you’re sat between him and Kate. “We might be the most ragtag bunch of hicks you ever met. But as this grows we ain’t never been able to do it without you. If we succeed, if we do this, you’ll have played no small part in it. You belong here.”

You spend the rest of the night tucked into Kate’s side the both of you quiet as the group carries on. 

It’s only as the group is getting ready for bed, Tyler putting out the fire, Boone leaving to find a bush to pee in, that you speak. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I got to live and he didn’t.”

Kate looks down at you. “You’ll drive yourself crazy if you go there you know. What you have that they didn’t. What you could do that they couldn’t.” 

“Will it be enough?” You say but Kate has no answer for you. 

Instead, she shifts upwards and away from you. 

“You should really think about coming out with us sometime.” She says. “Tornados are terrifying but they’re sometimes the most beautiful things. The way they manifest, the way the world just changes. You should give it another shot.” She gives you a soft smile before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your head. “Night. Get some sleep.” 

You lose track of how long you stare at the dying embers before Tyler comes back with another bucket of water to put the fire out for good. 

“You couldn’t have saved him, you know.” Tyler says, setting the bucket down. “But you still have a chance to help us save others. You might not see it but we need you.”

You nod. “Thanks Ty.” 

He gives you a smile. “Anytime kid. Get some rest. We’ve gotta get on the road bright and early tomorrow morning. And uh, think about changing your mind on doing some storm chasing why don’t you? There’s a whole world you’re missing out there.” 

-

It’s late under the Oklahoma skyline. Your friends have either gone off to their motel rooms or are partnered up into their own conversations but you’re too comfortable to move away from Kate, wrapped around her side. 

Your fingers brush up and down her skin, the dying fire crackling before you. As your fingers come to gently trace over her scar, you falter, smoothing your thumb over the skin. 

“Can I ask?” You speak softly. “What happened?” 

In the months that you’ve grown into this group, Kate has shared little of the story behind the scar. While you’re naturally curious, you know even more that it’s a missing piece to a girl and a relationship you’re still learning. 

Kate’s eyes look up at you, firelight reflecting a soft something you can’t name. And then she sits, tugging on your hand. 

She leads you to her shared room with Tyler, leading you inside as Tyler looks up from his phone he’s scrolling through.

It’s not unusual these days, to find yourself somewhere with these two. Whether it was curled up in their bed or around a fire or a diner table or in the back of a truck, you found yourself more and more drawn into their presence. The three of you were standing on the precipice is something and lately, it too often looked like you were the one hesitant to take the dive into uncharted waters. 

You pause at the doorway, surveying them. “You sure?” Kate nods and you slip inside, shutting the door behind you. Kate nudges you towards the bed and you go, Tyler’s warmth radiating off of him as your back finds stability against his broad frame. Kate climbs in the bed next to you, careful to leave her legs intertwined with yours. You feel her hands reach around your body, hands grazing Tyler’s. 

She licks her lips, breath shaky as her eyes flicker down to the faded tear of flesh. 

“It was six or seven years ago now. This project we’re doing out here, the one you’re supporting, it all started because of what Javi refers to as my science project.” Tyler straightens as she talks. “We… we failed.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly. 

Kate’s eyes finally meet yours. “My friends, we were supposed to release the polymer into an EF1, maybe EF2. But- I was wrong. It was an EF5.” She screws her eyes shut. “I lost them one by one. The tornado took them from me and left nothing but devastation in its wake. The scar- it’s a reminder of them, of what I lost that day. The cost of what happens if I don’t get it right.”

“Kate.” Tyler says softly, a firm note hidden beneath it. Something in it tells you they’ve had this conversation before, that Tyler’s heard this story before. 

You wrap your arms around Kate, tucking your head on top of hers. “You’ll get it right, Kate.” You whisper. “You’ve got this.”

-

The next morning finds you with a storm on the horizon. 

You sit on the top of Tyler’s truck as he beams at you, hands on his hips. “So you coming or what, pretty lady?”

You smile at him, hands wrapped around the chipped mug Boone had lent you. Six months in the field and all you still really had to your name was your toothbrush and a pair of pajamas. “I don’t know, you promise not to drive me right into the middle of that tornado?” 

Ty chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve got my word. No fireworks or nothing. I’ll give you the best storm chase you’ll ever see.” 

“Kate coming?” You ask, unable to stop the hopeful question from tumbling past your lips. He nods, though his grin falters. 

“Javi too.” 

You shrug, handing the now empty coffee mug to him as he offers you as hand to slide down his truck. “Just tell me when.”

No less than a half hour later, the four of you are in Tyler’s truck, cruising down an empty stretch of dirt road of an abandoned town. Your gaze is on the horizon before turning it back to the people in the van. 

“So Javi, you never did tell me how you and Kate had met?”

A grin forms on his face. “Kate and I go all the way back, man. She was the OG storm hunter.” 

You can see Kate smile in the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting. “They’ve got their own handshake.” Tyler comments, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“When do I get my own handshake?” You comment, chancing a glance back out the truck. “Holy shit, that’s what we’re chasing after?” 

“She’s gorgeous ain’t she?” Tyler roars, the truck speeding up. 

“I never thought I’d see something like this.” You breathe, eyes going wide. “There’s so little sky to see in the city. Here’s that’s all there’s to see.” 

You can’t see the grin Javi is giving you, wonder taking over your features as you crane your head to look closer. “Yeah, you’re going to be sticking around a while.” He says softly. “You’ve fallen for the charm.” 

“Ty.” Kate says sharply, tilting her monitor. “Do you see that?” Tyler peers out into the distance where she’s pointing. The car rolls to a stop as them and Javi start using words you don’t understand. 

“What? What’s happening?” 

“Do we got time to get back?” Javi says, pulling his seatbelt off. 

Tyler shakes his head, pressing his seatbelt buckle as he presses another button on his truck. “No, we gotta get low. Now.” His door flies open, and you follow suit, shouting to Kate as you do, asking what’s happening. 

She grabs your hand as the wind begins to pick up around you. “I was wrong.” She says. “It’s gotta be an EF3, at least. We’ve gotta get down.” 

“Kate! Do you see any places?!” Tyler shouts, ushering the two of you away from the car. 

She pauses, scanning the area. “There!” She shouts, pointing to a storm grate a bit farther out more towards the main road. The four of you take off, but it’s obvious you can’t keep up. The wind rages as you feel your ankle twist. The collision to the dirt hurts less than you think it’s going to as the panic in you reaches its peak. 

You’re going to die here.

“No, you ain’t.” Tyler says over the wind, arms coming up to support your under your armpit.  “Not on my watch.” 

Another set of arms lifts you up, as Kate shouts to follow her. The boys carry you the best they can but your eyes are blurry with panic. Kate takes you from them, helping you over to the storm grate. 

“Kate, I don’t- I don’t want to die.” 

“Just hold on to that.” She says firmly. You do as instructed, laying on the ground. Tyler’s body follows yours, clutching onto the grate over your body. His body covers your own, sheltering you from the worst of the weather. 

It’s only then you realize you’re shaking, from the wind or the rain or the freezing terror, you’ll never know. 

“Stay down.” Tyler bellows over the wind. “Stay low and hold on.” 

You whimper, clutching tighter to the grate as the storm’s power increases overhead. “I’ve got you.” Tyler says, Kate repeating his words. 

You aren’t sure in the haze when it all stops, just that you can’t stop shaking and the tears rolling down your face won’t end. Kate’s fingers are around yours, gently prying them from the grate as she runs a soothing hand through your hair. 

“Are you hurt?” Tyler asks bending down next to you as Kate gets the last of your fingers off of the grate. Your shoulders are shaking, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body enough to answer. 

“You’re safe.” Kate whispers. “You’re safe, we’ve got you I promise.” 

And yet all you can do is cry. You feel Tyler tentatively reaching out for you, looking over your body for an injury he might’ve missed. His hands pause underneath the Wrangler sweatshirt you’re wearing, hesitating before they slip under. When they come back clean, he pulls you to your feet. 

“I’m going to carry you back to the truck.” He says cautiously. You feel him lift you up and your hands find purchase in his shirt. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

By the time you reach the truck, the tears have stopped, drying in tracks on your face. “Kate.” You say softly, as Tyler sets you in the back of the truck. He glances over his shoulder, where he can see Javi presumedly comforting Kate. 

“She’ll be here in a minute. You okay?”

You nod. “Just- just shaken up. I panicked and flashed back I guess. What’re the odds you almost get killed by a tornado twice?” 

Tyler shakes his head. “You stick around here long enough, it’ll happen more than that. Look, we were all gonna head back to town tonight anyways. Why don’t you come back to Kate and I’s? I don’t think she’ll want you to leave her sight and I don’t want you to be alone.” You nod as Ty’s thumb reaches up to rub away some of the dirt. “You’re okay. We got you. We’ll take care of you.” 

Kate returns to the truck a few moments later, wrenching the other side of the back open. “You okay?” She asks softly, climbing in next to you. 

You nod. “What were you and Javi talking about?” She glances at the man before shaking her head. 

“Nothing. Say, do you want to come back to Ty and I’s place? We’ll get your ankle all fixed up, some clean clothes. It’ll be a couple days before we’re out on the road again. Give you a chance to regroup?” 

You nod. “That would be nice. I’d like that.” 

She smiles softly, reaching out for you. “We got you.” 

-

You’re tucked up under Kate and Ty’s comforter, the fan on low as your fingers find purchase in the soft material. 

“Kate? It ain’t your fault.”

Your head peeks up at the low voices on the stairs. 

“It is.” Kate says lowly. “It is my fault. How many times is it going to take for me to learn? She could’ve died.” 

“But she didn’t.” Tyler insists. “Aside from a sprained ankle, she’ll be fine. She’ll be on the road with us in just a few days, scheduling more presentations and fancy grant sessions than we know what to do with. Fact of the matter is she’ll probably be on the phone with Lilly tomorrow morning bright and early about new designs for like, keychains or something.”

Kate sighs. “I can’t afford to get it wrong this time.” 

“You’re not going to.” Tyler says, the stairs creaking, meaning he’s probably moving closer to her. “She trusts you Kate.”

“At what cost? They trusted me then too.”

“There’s no price to be paid here Kate. She trusts you, this team. She’s got us, the same way we got her.” Tyler sighs. “Let’s just get to bed okay? I wanna be next to my girls.”

Something stirs in your chest at the way he says girls as in plural but you’re too tired and strung out to dissect it. Kate slips into the bedroom a minute later, Tyler not far behind her. She climbs into the bed next to you, quick to climb under the comforter. Tyler follows suit on your other side. 

“We got you.” She whispers, but this time, you think she may be assuring herself more than you. 

-

This was wrong. Something was wrong here. 

It almost felt, like in some weird haze, she’d lived this day before. 

This was definitely wrong. 

“Kate, c’mon! Help us!” Javi shouts. She breaks from her reverie, running to the boys to grab you from them. 

“I don’t want to die. Kate, don’t let me die.” 

But it’s some ill-fated prophecy, the way she keeps failing, because the minute the boys let go, you’re gone. 

Your screams pierce through the air as all she can do as watch. 

The wind comes to a stop, it all falling still around them as the boys stand there in horror. 

“What did you do?” Tyler asks lowly. “What did you do Kate?!”

She freezes, unable to understand what just happened. 

“How do you keep letting this happen? How do you keep failing? How come you can’t get it right when it matters?” Tyler’s shout grows. 

A breeze kicks up again, a torn, bloodied Wrangler sweatshirt coming to lay at her feet. 

She’s going to be sick. 

“It’s your fault Kate!” Tyler’s harsh yell comes as she stands there, rain and wind whipping around her. She stares numbly at the spot where you had just been, the only thing left being the sweatshirt, feeling her fingers clench around nothing. 

You had been gone in a matter of seconds, slipping through her fingers like smoke. 

“No, but I-“ She licks her lips. “No, it can’t-“

It can’t end like this. 

“Yes, Kate, yes it is!” Tyler yells, coming closer to her now. “It’s your fault that’s she’s gone! It’s her blood on your hands! It’s your fault she’s dead, just like all the others!” Tyler shouts, pacing closer to her. She flinches, raising her hands to cover her ears to block out his yells. 

“Owens, stop.” Javi calls out but it all sounds muddy as she squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to be over. 

Behind her eyes, she could still see the terrified look in your eye, the way you had pleaded with Kate to not let you die. The scream you’d let out as the wind had pulled you away from her. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand on her, wrenching her wrist away from her ear. 

“It’s your fault she’s gone. It will always be your fault.”

Her eyes fly open, mouth around a scream.

-

Kate’s scream shatters any illusion of silence in the house as both of your heads whip towards the bedroom. 

You’ve barely had a chance to rise from the table, where you’d sat with Ty in the morning light, Tyler moving closer to the bedroom, when Kate’s rushed footsteps pound against the creaky staircase and round the corner. 

Her eyes are wild with fear but her body sags in relief at the sight of you. She pulls you to her chest, all but collapsing into your embrace, a sob escaping her chest. 

Tyler’s brow is furrowed in concern, at least what you can see of him over Kate’s shoulder. One hand stays wrapped around her waist, the other coming to rake your nails gently under Kate’s sleep shirt as she continues to sob.

“It’s all my fault. I knew the storm was going to be too big- but I-“ 

You shush Kate, continuing her movement. “I’m okay, Kate, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She shouts, wrenching herself away from you. She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand sniffling as she does. “It’s not okay! I could’ve gotten you killed!” 

“Kate, it’s not your fault.” You try to soothe, taking a step closer to her but all that does is prompt a fresh round of tears. 

“Yes, it is.” She nods sadly. “Yes, yeah it is. It was my fault then and it would’ve been my fault now too.” 

You shake your head, closing the distance she’s tried to create between the two of you. “No, it’s not Kate.” You say firmly. “It wasn’t your fault then and no one blames you for those losses. It wouldn’t have been your fault yesterday and I wouldn’t have blamed you either. The weather we chase is unpredictable and ever-changing. Loss is the name of the game we play.” 

She heaves a breath, her shoulders shaking. “You’re not an acceptable loss.” 

“Kate, if I had died yesterday, I would’ve died knowing you and Ty had done everything you could’ve to keep me safe.” You cup her cheek, brushing away a few tears as you do so. “You did everything you could’ve for your friends back then too.” 

“I couldn’t save them.” She croaks. “I couldn’t save you.” 

You crowd her space, nudging her nose with your own. “Hey, you know you did, right? You saw the signs. You knew to take shelter, where to hide. You did save me. The part that matters isn’t that you could’ve failed but that you didn’t.”

Kate’s forehead meets your own, her hand finding your fingers. “I- Please don’t leave.” She whispers. “Please don’t leave me.”

You feel breathless at her request, at the desperation in her tone. Your eyes meet Tyler’s. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper back. “I’m here Kate. We’re here.”

[pruneunfair]

Roasting OI leads, Part 1: Remarried empress.

Heinrey, if you don't get your "woe is me." Ass outta here-

Fuck outta here with your "UwU, I wuv my wife." bullshit, your a grown ass man, he LITERALLY turns into her pet bird. He really thinks he's cute when he does it, thinks it's cute to have the reputation of a womanizer for no concrete reason but hey! It was actually ERGI pretending to be Heinrey so it's TOTALLY fine. Yeah, I bet those women who had no clue they were essentially being assaulted via deception were REALLY happy about the fact you weren't a real womanizer.

Mother fucker you are the emperor of a landlocked country and your goofy ass is making everyone your enemy when you don't even have direct access to an OCEAN.

Your actions are the damn REASON your wife is being hunted down, your dumbass made enemies with another important noble house, you could've ended when you imprisoned Krista (I really do believe he straight up killed her and made it look like a suicide) but no, you had to make the grand Duke essentially let his daughter get hanged because otherwise you would have went after the GRANDKIDS!

And that's not even mentioning he fed the old Duke the remains of his son!

Serves him his own son and has the audacity to act all sad and depressed when he is told that not even hell wants his wacky ass.

If it isn't being known as a tyrant, it will be you being known as a fucking idiot who ruled based on your wifes happiness as seld justification to help you sleep at night.

Yeah I'm sure the wife that was killed and the children's that got sold to slavery had a lot to do with one guy trying assassinate Navier.

This bro really acting like he such a misunderstood man who just wanted to protect his pregnant wife, while selling CHILDREN into slavery. If those kids grow up and end up as Rashtas, I better not see Navier or Heinrey complaining when they come back for revenge.

By the way? You straight up organized this with your weird ass "I like em 16 and magical" friend Ergi.

Just know that Heinrey was willing to help lead a young mother to insanity so Navier wouldn't have to face criticism. Did the writers not realize they were calling themselves out or was this left by the manhea translators who agreed that Heinrey is full of shit.

This you?

"I don't want to lie to you." And then he proceeds to hide the fact that he was stealing magic for over 100 chapters and would've kept the act up if she didn't find out for herself. "I no wanna go to war cause wuv you mah queen cute 😢" and Just like Sovieshu defending Rashta when she acts cute for him, Navier doesn't seem to really care.

Speaking of Navier.

Don't think you're safe girl!

Navier, honey, sweetie, I usually give you the benefit of the doubt since you are far from the most evil person here, but you don't get call yourself a fair Empress while condoning your husbands shit just because he's open about it.

Hell.. I don't think her description can even say she's kind to all her subjects when A: Out of all the mages who got their magic back, Evalie is the only one since she's clearly the favorite out of all the poor kids and B: She clearly doesn't give a fuck about slavery. Like this isn't just a case where she dislikes it but can't change the law, no. She outright doesn't give a shit and sees slavery as a mere afterthought.

Peep her reactions when she learns Rashta is a slave.

She. Doesn't. Care

I know you didn't think we wouldn't notice you making friends with a slave owner out of spite for the slave that got on your nerves. (Well actually almost no one noticed)

Navier, You have every right to be pissed that your husband is humiliating and verbally abusing you.

But even if you supported the confederacy with all your heart, you should still know that Rashta, as a slave, CAN'T SAY NO to the EMPEROR. Hell even if she were a commoner she couldn't say no.

This the same woman acting like it was unfair that Landre almost got executed with no trial BTW. Lande, who stabbed Rashta while she was pregnant because she spread some rumors about Duchess Leonardo Dicaprio. Sure he didn't know she was pregnant but he still attempted to kill someone, he brought that knife with him, that was premeditated.

but I guess trials for someone to be proven innocent or guilty sure don't matter when it comes to the people affiliated with your enemies.

[kokomos]

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡

abby anderson relationship headcanons

  + Abby's the girl who says hello to everyone in the morning and will never fail to thank the people working around base. She's a sweetheart at her core and it's the reason you two got together. She's so friendly that it's almost unknown for her not to get along with someone or at least try to.

+ Definitely tries to impress you with her strength, she knows you've got a thing for her muscles so she'll be sure to show 'em off whenever she's got the chance.

+ Goes to the gym every day, she's one of those people who's hardcore dedicated to their routine. She'd love it if you visited her while she's there working out!! It would make her so happy to have you join her, she'll guide you patiently through all the new equipment so you can get a feel of what you wanna try. Definitely will use anything as an excuse to put her hands on you. She's so cute, she'll give you encouraging rubs on the back after you complete a set.

  - "You did so good, babe! Wanna keep going?"

+ Always has you over at her place, she kicks Manny out for the night so you two can be alone.

+ Basically makes you wear her clothes; after a night together at hers she'll give you one of her favorite shirts to keep. She thinks you're the cutest in her stuff because it's always a little too big on you. Having everyone in the cafeteria see you in her attire is just more incentive to the cause.

+ On occasion, she lets herself enjoy a quiet, lazy afternoon spent with you.

+ Unfortunately for you she takes enjoyment in tickling other people; specially reserved for only those she's closest with. She doesn't go all out, usually a sneak attack of a side tickle but sometimes, sometimes she goes in for the kill. She can have you under her within seconds and it's used to her advantage greatly.

+ Soft dominant. She's had to make a leader out of herself since her father's death meaning she'd rather you take the backseat while she takes care of things.

+ Abby isn't the biggest on physical touch, she wouldn't be constantly touching you like some people would. Affection from you, either alone or with friends, is always welcomed with loving arms though. She prefers expressing her love for you through quality time in your company or doing simple favors to help you out.

+ That being said, she's the kind of girlfriend who will let you take her by the arm or spontaneously grab your hand while walking up behind you.

+ Tilts your face by the chin when she kisses you. Her fingers are so blissfully light on your skin like she's trying her hardest to be as gentle as possible with you.

+ She really is so tender and delicate with you. Always giving you the lightest touches when her fingers inevitably end up tracing the curves on your body.

+ On the other hand, she can show her true strength if you want it. She can pin you down so easily; she can't resist teasing you about your weak muscles (of course she'll follow it with a kiss to avoid your pouting).

  - "See, babe, this is why you have to go to the gym more. What if I was an attacker?"

+ She will more than volunteer to teach you about self-defense, weapons, etc. Actually, if you don't know that stuff already she'll force you to attend a mini class of hers.

+ Such a good teacher, her patience makes learning from her a breeze. Comes at a cost when she’s almost always assigned to training the newbies because of this unmatched skill of hers.

+ If you're a soldier, too, she tries to convince Isaac to let you two stay on the same assignments. Nine times out of ten he says no, it'll be a rare occasion when he gives in to Abby's relentless arguing.

+ She patches you up after missions!! No one else can be trusted to tend to you. You deserve to be babied 100% and anything less than that is unacceptable in her eyes. She ends up staying with you for a couple nights checking up on you near constantly to monitor your condition. It doesn't matter if it's just a couple cuts, she's treating it like a broken leg when it comes to you.

+ With Manny's help, she begins writing you little love letters. Mostly they're innocent messages with her declaring just how cute she thinks you are and how much she loves you. Simple, yet so effective. She knows you cherish each and every one she's written.

+ A sentimentalist at heart! Aside from her coin collection, she has a stash of memorabilia from days in the past to keep the moment and the feelings associated alive. Give her a flower you casually picked from one of the bushes around the base and it'll be drying in a book under her bed so she can keep it forever.

+ When you two get into an argument, she tries to hold back her honesty but it slips out in hurtful ways more often than not. She has a problem of not working with you as a team to solve the issue; Abby views any conflict as a fight and she wants to win more than anything. When this unavoidably makes you upset, she realizes she's done wrong and takes back whatever she's said. Fortunately, arguments never last long and they without exception end with some cuddling.

  - "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I care about you so much…"

+ Very good at reading you, it's half scary and half comforting. You don't need to use a lot of words to get your point across with her, she understands you completely.

+ After you two date for awhile, she realizes how much time she spends away from home and you. She has a talk with Isaac to take shorter trips around less dangerous areas essentially taking a step down in her position.

+ Dreams of following in her father's footsteps by working in the med unit, she knows she can't be a soldier for long; not when she's got a whole future with you to live for.

— ♡☆

[syrma-sensei]

→ Godless.

Pairing: William “Billy” Butcher x Fem!reader.

Summary: In his godless world, he yearns for something divine.

Rating: Mature.

Setting: Season 4.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional agnst.

The night shift at Starlight House is supposed to be quiet. Kids are already asleep, the halls dimly lit, and the only sounds are the occasional creak of the old floorboards. You are just finishing up—shutting off lights, making sure everything is locked up—when a familiar knock echoed through the front doors. Hard. Impatient.

You already know who it is before you open it.

Billy Butcher stands there, looking every bit the man who doesn't belong in a place like this. He smells like whiskey and gunpowder, his knuckles bruised, his jaw clenched tight like he’d just come from a fight. And, as always, Terror is right beside him, wagging his tail.

You crossed your arms. “Jesus, Butcher. You could’ve just texted.”

“Ain’t got the patience for that.” His eyes flicked over you, taking in the soft Starlight House sweatshirt you wore over your tank top, the hint of warmth and comfort he probably can't stand. “Terror needed a walk. Figured I’d let ‘im see his favorite bird.”

You roll your eyes but reach down to scratch behind the dog’s ears anyway. “You mean I’m your free dog sitter.”

Butcher smirks, stepping inside without asking. “That too.”

You shake your head with a small smile.

You've known Billy for almost five months now. You met him at the Filtatron Building when you had to drop by to give Annie some paperwork for the shelter’s funding. He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, looking about five seconds away from bashing someone's head. You hadn’t thought much of him at first. Just another gruff asshole with a chip on his shoulder. But you're nothing if not curious. So, you asked Annie who the hell he was when she visited the House the other day, and she told you his miserable story.

You still get sick in the stomach when you your mind puts you in his shoes.

You sigh. “You wanna tell me why you’re really here?”

You know why he is here.

Butcher gives you a look—half amusement, half something else you couldn’t quite place. “What, a bloke can’t drop by for a friendly visit?”

You snort. “You don’t do friendly visits. Are you here to help?”

Terror woofs at you, demanding more headpats which you give him. Butcher, meanwhile, scans the quiet, dimly lit space from his spot.

“Still reckon this place is a waste of time,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes, already used to his shit. “Because helping kids is such a terrible thing?”

He does answer right away. Just shrugs, stepping closer. “World’s fucked, luv. You can’t save ‘em all.”

“Maybe not,” you shoot back. “But I can damn well try.” Like how you're trying to save Ryan. You think but you bite your tongue. You learnt to. It gets ugly when someone reminds him that his wife's son prefers Homelander over him. The boy is oblivious to his father's true nature, and Billy wasn't really kind to him the last two times he saw him. The first he told him to fuck off for killing Becca, and the second he literally was going to kill his fucking dad in front of his eyes. Which didn't settle well with the kid.

“Be that as it may…” Billy clicks his tongue, “Can we skip to the part where we fuck eachother’s brains out, luv?”

In another time, his crass words would've made you flinch. But not anymore. You’ve grown accustomed to his rough edges, even found a strange comfort in them. There’s something about the way he says it, something in his voice that makes your pulse pick up, makes your skin tingle with that mixture of irritation and desire you can never quite shake when he’s around.

So, you comply. You check on everything before you're off with him to your place.

Sex with Billy Butcher is never sweet. He fucks you with raw, desperate, almost angry need. When he manhandles you, his touch is rough and bruising and demanding like he's taking it out on you as if you're the one who killed his wife.

Why do we do this if you love her so much? You want to ask him, but you never do. Because you know that would screw it up on you.

Afterwards, Billy lays on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling like it had all the answers to the shitstorm in his head. You can still feel his heartbeat slowing beneath your palm, his skin warm from the afterglow.

For once, he isn't in a hurry to leave. He doesn't usually stay after sex. But you won't complain.

Billy keeps his gaze on the ceiling, his mind drifting away from the intimacy of the moment though he grows to love it.

God, the fucking cunt. Did He really place you in his way to discourage him from pursuing his path of vengeance any further?

He scoffs, well He’s doing a shitty job of it. Because he doesn't, by any chance, harbour any ounce of emotions for you. Aside from your sex appeal, he has nothing to do with you.

Then why do you keep wanting to see her?

A voice akin to Becca's taunts him.

Well, I'm fucking dying anyway. He tries to justify. Might as well fuckin’ enjoy the hell road.

But a knife of guilt stabs his chest. He uses you for pleasure but he knows you're more than that. He finds serenity within his soul when he's with you. For brief, fleeting moments, the searing fire in his heart that urges him for a revenge smoulders away when you beam at him and he hates you for that.

He gazes down at you while you trace lazy circles over his chest.

Such a sweet little thing, he thinks. But sweet things break easily in this world. Like it did his brother. Like it did his wife. Like it did him.

He doesn't deserve you. He isn't worthy of an angel, a goddess like you.

Then why am I here? He asks himself.

“Do you ever think the big cunt is somewhere up there?” He mutters absentmindedly.

You chuckle, looking up at him, “I don't know…”

He snickers, “You don't believe in the invisible cunt, I take it?”

You snort, “I don't really care if He or She or They exist.”

“Then why do you have a kind heart and do what you do?”

You prop yourself up on your arm, “I do it because I believe it is the right thing to do, not because some bearded old daddy in the sky says what I should do.”

He raises a brow, “Well, here's what I think, luv—”

You silence him with a finger on his lips, “I know that the world is cruel and meaningless, but it is also…” You smile, eyes holding his, “A beautiful place…”

Mine was beautiful when I had Becca. He muses, and an inner voice adds, Is beautiful when I have you.

He shakes his head.

“Might as well you enjoy the ride, Billy.” You pat his chest gently.

Before he can push the subject, a wet, sloppy sound fills the air, followed by a familiar snuffling noise.

You both turn your heads toward the bedroom door—where Terror is sitting, watching you with his big, dumb dog grin, happily licking his own balls.

Butcher groaned. “Christ, mate, bit of fuckin’ privacy?”

Terror, completely unbothered, lets out a contented huff and plops onto the floor, still going at it.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a laugh. "You sure know how to ruin a moment, huh?"

Butcher grumbles something under his breath, shoving a pillow over his face. "Next time, we’re locking the bloody door."

Unable to withhold it, a roaring chortle bursts out of your lungs. Your lilt sound caresses Billy’s ear like a feather.

You sigh against his chest, your body warm and relaxed, but he feels anything but.

He should leave. Should throw on his clothes, mutter some half-assed excuse, and get the fuck out before this turns into something it shouldn’t.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets his fingers trail absentmindedly down your back, feeling the slow rise and fall of your breath.

“You always this cuddly after sex?” you murmur, voice teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

Butcher snorts. “Yeah, ‘m a real softie.”

You hum, tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence settles between you, heavy with unspoken things. He can feel you watching him, waiting for something he can’t give.

So he does what he does best. He deflects.

“Reckon Terror’s traumatized now,” he grumbles, jerking his chin toward the dog, who has finally abandoned his self-care and curled up on the floor.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You think this is the worst thing he’s seen? He lives with you.”

He smirks, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You notice. Of course, you do. You always fucking notice.

“Billy…” you start, voice softer now, like you’re stepping carefully around whatever mess is inside his head. “Why do you keep coming back?”

He stiffens.

Because it’s easy? Because you’re good at what you do? Because he likes the way you feel, warm and alive beneath him?

All bullshit.

The real answer sits heavy on his tongue, bitter and unspoken.

Because when he’s with you, the fire in his gut—the one that’s been burning ever since Becca died—dims just enough for him to breathe.

And that scares the fuck out of him.

You let the silence stretch between you, waiting, hoping he’ll say something. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your temple, his arms a little too tight, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

Your fingers skim lightly over his side. “You never answer the hard questions, do you?”

Butcher huffs, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Don’t see the point, luv. Ain’t gonna change a damn thing.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your chin resting on his chest. “You sure about that?”

His jaw clenches. He hates when you do this—when you peel back the layers he’s spent years building, exposing the raw, ugly things underneath. But he can’t bring himself to push you away.

Instead, he sighs, his fingers trailing up your spine, slow and deliberate. “What d’you want me to say, huh? That I like this?” His voice drops, something dangerous curling at the edges. “That I like you?”

Your breath catches. You weren’t expecting him to say it, not out loud, not like this.

And for a second, you see it—the truth he’s been trying so hard to bury.

But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. His expression shutters, that familiar guardedness slipping back into place.

He shakes his head, scoffing at himself. “Don’t mean a bloody thing.”

You exhale sharply, rolling onto your back beside him, staring at the ceiling. “If it doesn’t mean anything, then why are you still here?”

Because you're a good fuck and I'm much of an arsehole to take advantage of it. He wants to crudely tell you, to convince you, to convince himself that you're nothing but that.

But the words don’t come out.

Instead, Billy lies there, jaw tight, staring at the ceiling as if it holds all the answers he doesn’t have. He wants to say it—wants to be cruel, to shut this down before it turns into something he can’t control. But when he glances at you, at the way your brows pinch together, at the soft rise and fall of your breath, something in his chest pulls tight.

He swallows hard, lets out a low, bitter chuckle. “Fuck if I know.”

You huff out a laugh, but it’s humorless. “Bullshit.”

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to smirk, but the weight in his chest is too heavy. He shifts onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow, watching you. “You really wanna have this chat right now?”

Your eyes flick toward him, searching, challenging. “I just wanna know why you keep coming back.”

Billy looks at you for a long moment, like he’s trying to piece together an answer that won’t make him feel like a fucking idiot. He could lie. He should lie. But something about the way you’re looking at him makes it impossible.

Finally, he sighs, running a rough hand over his face. “You make me forget.” His voice is quieter now, like he hates admitting it. “For a little while, anyway.”

You hold his gaze. “Forget what?”

His throat bobs, his expression unreadable. And then, finally, he mutters, “Everything.”

The weight of that single word settles between you like a heavy fog. You should say something, maybe press him for more, but you don’t. Because you get it. Maybe more than he realizes.

So instead, you shift closer, resting a hand against his chest. His heart beats strong beneath your palm, steady but guarded, just like him.

“You don’t have to forget,” you say softly. “You just have to stop running.”

Billy scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah? And what happens when I stop?”

You give him a small, sad smile. “Maybe you finally start living.”

He exhales sharply, his hand coming up to wrap around your wrist, holding you there against him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks at you, the way his fingers tighten just slightly—it says enough.

He’s not ready. Maybe he never will be. But for now, he stays.

By morning, the world outside is just as godless and fucked as ever. And yet, you both step back into it, knowing full well that Billy will find his way back to you—sooner rather than later.

Read more:

⚜ Main Masterlist

⚜ The Boys Masterlist

→ Read on A03

[artbyblastweave]

The advantage of Roxxon at Marvel is that having a really well established Evil Megacorporation in the wider lore means that when you want to do a plot beat involving an Evil Corporation you can append some variant of the name "Roxxon" to whatever the Evil Business is and immediately signal to your audience the kind of story that they're looking at. The downside is that if Roxxon has it's fingers in every single pie, it starts to create the impression that if someone could just get off their asses and kill all those bastards at Roxxon we could just be done with all of this shit, whereas in reality there are of course many Roxxons, mostly Roxxons. One of those things where I think you've gotta meet 'em halfway in terms of the specific story that they're telling, and just write your own thing if you wanna put the screws to the worldbuilding

[vandme12]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠? - 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

This will be long-planned series. I love Diabolik lovers and now Killer Chat

This series will contain

TRIGGER WARNING : Graphic Violence, Gore, Murder, Obsession, Manipulation, Death, Dark Themes

SUMMARY :

In the future, you fucking are.

Fuck—what did you do? Who did you murder? Who did you hurt, who did you kill? People surprise you, don’t they? All soft edges and perfect faces, but inside? A rotting mess—like the guts spilled out when you cut too deep. And shit’s well—shit there. Black hearts. Black souls. Rotten teeth behind pretty lips.

The devil got his due.

Guess you like your girls best when they’re dead—

Brains blasted open, a Jackson Pollock on the wall. That’s your taste, isn’t it? A little blood with your sugar.

People surprise you. Every last one of them loved you. Loved you as you are—ugly, awful, too much, too sharp. What did you do?

In the future, you fucking are.

Fuck—what did you do? Who did you slice open, tear apart, leave gasping? Who did you kill? People surprise you, don’t they? All sugar on the surface, but inside—oh, inside, they’re crawling. Rot-black hearts and maggot thoughts. Shit’s shit, and it’s everywhere.

1. The devil got his due.

2. Guess you like your girls best when they’re dead— Brains on the floor, blood in their hair. Pretty things are prettier when they’re ruined, right?

3. When their heads get blown open— Art in the aftermath. Mess in the marrow. A little tragedy for your collection.

4. People will surprise you. They loved you, didn’t they? Every last one of them. Loved you as you are—sharp, mean, a little god playing with his food.

What did you do?

You must be proud, Tragedist. Peeling a story apart like skin—digging your hands inside, pulling the guts free. Twisting the entrails into something that looks like meaning. Something that looks like yours.

Does it feel good?

Nah—feels better. Feels godly.

So, congrats. Really. What a beautiful little slaughterhouse you’ve built.

Hell is empty. And the devils?

They’re all you, darling.

(goreboy called you.)

“Why’d you do it?”

Static hums in his throat like a wound that won’t close, teeth bared—smiling, because of course he’s smiling. Of course. But the edges are too sharp, too real, voice slipping through the cracks like something rotten.

“You wanted them alive? Alive? Alivealivealive? That’s cute—hey, wanna write me in next? Come on, author. You’re the one with the pen—ain’t this your fantasy? Killed ‘em good, right? Had to. Had to. Had to.”

He giggles like a knife scraping bone.

“I’m your little maggot, baby—crawl, crawl, crawling right where you want me. So why’re you acting surprised?”

(They’re calling. All of them. And they want answers.)

The screen flickers—no, it twitches, glitching like something breathing, wet and wrong. Your inbox swells. Message after message. Missed calls. Missed, missed, missed. But they never really miss, do they?

goreboy is typing…

"Writer."

The word leaks through like blood through a cracked tooth.

"You killed them."

Static gnaws the edges of the call. You can almost feel his grin, split-wide and twitching, something feral tucked beneath the velvet purr.

"What, thought you could bury your toys without us noticing? Cute. Real cute." He laughs—no, he cracks, the sound sharp enough to flay. “BRING THEM BACK. BRING THEM BACK. BRING THEM BACK—”

Another call. Another voice.

V is calling.

It’s colder. Precision in the quiet, the kind that slinks down your spine like fingers dragging through marrow.

"You’re playing god." No judgment. No heat. Just the weight of a verdict already passed. "And gods should fear the things they make."

A pause. Static breathes between you.

"Fix this."

The chat explodes—

MISAKI:

YO WRITER—WTF!? U CAN’T JUST KILL PEOPLE WITHOUT ASKING!!!

MISAKI:

NOT COOL!! NOT COOL!!! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND DECENT COMPANY!?!??

MISAKI:

…also like. bring ‘em back. Please??? 🥺👉👈

And then—sugar-dipped venom:

Angel is typing…

"You’re selfish." Sweet as a mouthful of broken glass.

"They were ours to ruin, not yours. You think you can end this? No, no, honey—"

The next message drips through, slow. Intimate.

"We’re inside your head now."

And from the shadows—one more voice. A whisper in the crawlspace of your heart, soft and rotting.

goreboy:

Writer.

They’re not dead until I say so.

And we’re not done.

What are they to you?

Misaki is the itch you can’t scratch. Neon burn in the back of your throat, tastes like sugar and gunpowder. Pretends to be a punchline, but the knives slip through the gaps—cute, if you don’t mind bleeding out. Broke as hell. Anxious as hell. Laughs in the face of danger (then panics about it later). Probably thinks aliens would love them. Wants out, but where’s the fun in leaving when the world’s this messy? If you’re lucky, they’ll let you buy them a milkshake. If you’re not—well. Good luck with that.

Misaki.

Angel is poison in a crystal glass. Soft-spoken in that way that makes you lean closer—too close—right before she twists the knife. Femme fatale with a body count, sweetheart. Collects secrets like love letters, and she’s been reading yours. Wants to see you beg, wants to see you break, but most of all? She wants to win. Would kiss you just to taste how desperate you are. Probably already has. Don’t worry—she won’t kill you. Not unless it’s fun.

Angel.

V is judgment carved in stone. Black-and-white in a world that bleeds red. Thinks he’s the answer, the reckoning, the last thing bad people see before the lights go out. Maybe he is. A ghost story told in whispers and gunmetal. The law wasn’t enough—so now he is. Empathy buried under a steel spine. If you ask, he’ll say he doesn’t feel regret. If you listen close enough, you’ll hear the lie.

V.

Ronin is rot, plain and simple. Smiles like he’s never done a good thing in his life (he hasn’t). Wants the world in pieces, wants you in pieces, wants everything and will rip it apart just to feel something. Makes a joke out of everything because if it’s funny, it can’t hurt—right? Hates authority, loves attention. Would set a church on fire just to watch the light show. And the worst part? You’d watch with him.

Ronin.

They’re calling for you. All of them. Loud enough to wake the dead.

How did you destroy them?

Angel dies beautiful. Always would’ve—she planned it that way. Heart-shaped lips, heart-shaped hole in her chest, confession live-streamed like a love letter. Heartsick Angel, she says, voice honey-thick, dripping sweet for the camera. Always was, always will be. Justice chews her up and spits her out, but she smiles for the kill shot. Poetic, isn’t it? The femme fatale falling for herself in the end. She’d call it symmetry. You’d call it a waste.

Angel.

V dies quiet. No blaze of glory—just handcuffs too tight and a name that isn’t his. The Butcher, they call him, like the word fits. Like the blood belongs to him and not the devil in the dark. Truth never mattered to them. Never mattered to him either, but irony? Now that’s a bitch. Stone-faced as they take him away, but you know better. You know it gnaws at him—being the wrong monster, being caught. But maybe it’s easier this way. Someone had to pay the price.

V.

Misaki dies messy. Of course they do. Too bright, too loud, a firework gone wrong. Thought they had time—thought they’d be the one to get out. They never did have good luck. Bullet in the brain mid-mission, body hitting the floor with the joke half-told. Would’ve laughed at the irony if they weren’t so dead. No alien abduction. No happy ending. Just blood on cold concrete and a half-eaten cup noodle at home.

Misaki.

Ronin dies pretty. He makes sure of it. Carves the scene like a love poem, drips blood like wine. He’s laughing when he makes you do it—laughing when you hesitate. C’mon, he says, soft and sweet, like a dare. Like a prayer. Wants you to ruin him. Wants you to mean it. And you do. When you kiss him, he tastes like copper and cherry cola. When you kill him, he looks like something holy.

Ronin.

They loved you. Maybe they still do. Maybe they never did. But they're gone now—ashes in your mouth, ghosts in your bones.

And all you’ve got left is the question: Was it worth it?

Maybe.

Maybe in another universe, Angel never presses "Go Live." She keeps her secrets, keeps her life. Flirts with death but never marries it. Maybe she dances in red silk instead of bleeding it, teasing you with half-truths and sugar-coated lies. Maybe her hands are warm when she cups your face, and you never have to wonder if she'll die for the drama.

Maybe V never takes the fall. Maybe he’s still out there, hunting in the dark, making the world a little quieter—one guilty scream at a time. Maybe you find him on a rooftop, blood-splattered and exhausted, and he lets you touch the mask. Lets you see what no one else does. Maybe he believes in justice—but this time, not at his own expense.

Maybe Misaki lives. Kicks the bullet’s ass and comes home laughing. Talks about aliens like they saw one—maybe they did. Maybe they drag you to a jazz club after a job, wearing something loud and ridiculous, and hold your hand like they mean it. Maybe they’re still scared, still anxious, still them—but alive. Always alive.

And Ronin? Oh, Ronin.

Maybe he doesn’t make you do it. Maybe he lets you keep him—like that was ever possible. Maybe he curls up in your bed like sin with a smile, making promises he’ll never keep. Maybe he still flirts with death but never asks you to pull the trigger. Maybe, in that universe, he wants you more than the fall. More than the ending.

Maybe they’re all waiting. In some other place, some other story. If you can write them dead—can’t you write them back?

The devils are still shouting, you know. Still screaming your name.

So, what’s it gonna be, writer?

You cry.

Cry like it’ll bring them back. Cry like the dead care. Cry until your throat aches and your chest cracks open, raw and hollow. But no one’s listening. Not really. Not anymore.

You killed them—don’t you remember? With your words. Your hands. Your heart.

And still, you cry.

Cry because Angel’s voice is gone—no more teasing, no more honey-dripped danger. Cry because V let the world swallow him whole, and you didn’t stop it. Cry because Misaki should’ve lived—should’ve laughed, should’ve stayed—but they didn’t. And Ronin… oh, you cry for him the most. Because he made you love him enough to do it. And you did.

You cry because they loved you. Maybe they still do.

Maybe.

A dream, maybe. If dreams tasted like blood. If they clung to your skin like phantom hands, too cold, too real.

You tell yourself that—whisper it against the ache in your throat. Just a dream. Just your mind playing tricks. Just shadows curling where they shouldn’t.

But dreams don’t leave fingerprints, do they? Dreams don’t stain. Dreams don’t echo when you’re awake, calling you back.

If it’s a dream, you should be able to wake up.

You ran from Reality To chase after your fantasy of a cute, kind, idealistic version of this world, Who said whatever you wanted to hear..?

To Ronin

My devil, my ruin, my exquisite catastrophe— I could carve your name into the marrow of my bones, and it still wouldn’t be deep enough to satisfy this hunger. To love you is to understand madness, to walk the edge of a blade and smile as the blood trickles down. You consume, and I am already swallowed whole.

You, who dance on the edge of oblivion, who wears cruelty like a lover’s embrace—tell me, will you let me be the hands that hold your throat, the fire that burns at your heels? I don’t want to save you. I want to stand beside you in the wreckage and laugh at the flames.

If you tear me apart, at least I will die as yours.

To V

You hold the world at arm’s length, but I would cup your face in my hands if you let me. Every word from you is measured, every silence weighted, and yet—I hear you. You, who judge, who punish, who carry the weight of a thousand condemned souls upon your back—do you ever wonder what it would feel like to rest?

If I stand too close, will you call it weakness? If I offer warmth, will you see it as distraction? I do not wish to make you stumble, only to walk beside you.

You are not untouchable, no matter how hard you try to be. And if the world dares not reach for you, then I will.

To Angel

You are beautiful in the way glass is—something to be admired, something that cuts if handled too carelessly. There is light in you, but it is the kind that casts shadows, the kind that lingers in the eyes of those who adore you. I wonder if you know just how breathtaking you are when you smile, even when it’s only for the sake of others.

If love were enough, would you finally feel whole? If I gave you all of mine, would it settle the ache in your chest?

I would never ask you to be anything other than what you are. I only ask that when you stand in the light, you remember you are more than just a reflection.

To Misaki

You are a melody I can’t stop humming, a fleeting spark that lingers long after the firework has faded. You laugh as if the weight of the world isn’t pressing against your ribs, as if you aren’t carrying ghosts behind your smile. And yet, even when your hands shake, even when the words don’t come easily—you are still here.

If I hold out my hand, will you take it? If I promise that you don’t have to be alone, will you believe me?

You don’t have to be strong all the time. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care. If you ever need a place to land, I will be here.

“Do you blame yourself?”

“What?”

“Well it’s quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of... guilt.”

“What situation?”

“The accident.”

You ran from Reality To chase after your fantasy of a cute, kind, idealistic version of this world, Who said whatever you wanted to hear..?

[dehydrated-turtle]

Blood and Stitches

//warnings// 16+, mdni

//contents// Jason Todd x transmasc!reader, Blowjob, blood, stitches

//synopsis// Jason Todd comes home from a particularly bad patrol, bleeding onto your apartment floor. You have to stitch him up because he never listens to you but well, you love him what can you say? - wc: 1.2k

//on ao3//

Blood, blood, blood, and more blood. It's dripping slowly onto the wood panels of your bedroom floor from the clearly open wound on Jason’s side. The viscous and extremely pigmented liquid rolls down his abdomen, blending in with the blacks and dark reds of his suit but still visible, and the huge gash, exposing his skin to the cool wind coming in from the window he left open in your apartment. 

“Hey…” he says weakly before collapsing onto the floor. 

“Oh Jesus Christ, Jason.” You say, annoyed because he never listens to you. You told him last time he passed out on your floor, he has to protect himself better and stop being so reckless while on patrol or he’s going to get himself killed. You roll him over and pry off his jacket and kevlar before peeling off his under armour shirt that's been coated in blood. You struggle to pull his arms out while he’s unconscious due to how heavy they are but you do nonetheless.

Once you throw his blood ridden suit into a pile on the floor, you get out the first aid kit and some damp towels from the bathroom to clean him up. As you are gently dabbing the skin around the wound clean, Jason regains consciousness with a groggy groan rumbling in his throat. 

“Shhh, stay down, I’m cleaning you up.” you say, pushing his shoulder back down to the floor, his head landed with a soft thud and another croak of pain. “Ok, I’ve got to put some peroxide on it now, stay still.” 

“I can handle it, I’m fINE–” he grips your free arm then repositions to your hand. He squeezes hard as he hisses at the sharp sting. You clean the wound efficiently so he doesn’t have to be in pain for so long before taking out the stitch kit from the bin full of first aid. “Do I really need the stitches?” Jason said with obvious worry in his voice, he’s never liked getting stitches, being afraid of needles and all. 

“Yes, Jay, this is really bad… I’m sorry.” 

“No, no it’s ok, you gotta do what you gotta do.” he looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath before nodding, signalling to go on with it. “Just get it over with.” 

After thoroughly sterilizing, you take the curved needle and the thick thread and start to sew his flesh together, guiding him through it while he whimpers on the ground. Something so special about him being so vulnerable with you like this, it makes your heart swell. As soon as you tie off the last stitch, you pat it again with the peroxide just to get rid of any excess blood and bacteria then put a bandage over top. 

“There, that should do it, just be careful not to pop a stitch. Do I need to get out the tiger balm or are you good?” You say helping Jason off the floor and onto the bed. 

“Oh that would be great, I think I pulled my everything.” He chuckled, then instantly regretting it, gripping his side and keeling over in pain followed by some soft profanities. 

“I’ll get you some water too while I’m at it, don’t wanna get dehydrated.” You remark before leaving the room then quickly coming back with a cold water bottle and a pot of tiger balm. You walk over to the dresser and pull out a pair of PJ pants and a sweater, you put all the items on the bedside table then start to help Jason take his pants off, something you have done many a time before, you are no stranger to the Red Hood’s belt buckle but this time was less heated, you just wanted to get him comfortable. 

“Boxers on or no?” 

“Uhh, nah take ‘em off, don’t want my balls being strangled all night.” He gave you a soft smile with those kind eyes that only a select few saw, so thankful that you were one of them. So you hooked your fingers underneath his pants’ and boxer’s waistband and shuffled them down his thighs, soft dick resting between them. You sneak a peek at it before making eye contact with Jason and give him a smile. He smiles back with his eyes wide and innocent, all the while he’s growing slowly against the skin of his legs. You can hear his breath quicken while you spread his ankles apart and see that his cock jumped while still growing steadily. You make your way up the bed to sit yourself in between his legs, taking his mostly hard cock in your hand and pumping it slowly while massaging his thighs and hips lightly with your free hand. He lets out a soft moan, closing his eyes briefly and laying his head back on the headboard. 

You lean forward to place a light kiss on his head before licking a purposeful stripe up the length of his cock before taking his head all the way into your mouth, swirling your tongue. Your cunt clenched as he whimpered ever so slightly but just enough for you to hear. One of his large calloused hands reaches down to move your hair out of your face, his lazy eyes meet yours, looking so innocent for such a crude act, he loves it. His hand made its way to the back of your neck, making his cock go deeper into your throat which almost made you gag but you successfully kept it in. 

Jason never took his eyes off of you, saliva leaking around your lips and onto his balls, he couldn’t peel his eyes away from that sight, it’s almost physically impossible. “Fuck, honey… I’m gonna cum.” he whispers, thinking you’re going to pull off so he can wait until he’s buried in your heat, but you don’t, you just keep going, sucking him down and looking him in the eye, almost begging for him to cum in your mouth with just a glance. His breath hitched as his cock twitched against the roof of your mouth before a string of profanities pour out of his mouth and white rivers pour out of his tip. Your mouth slowly filled with his semen, hot, sticky and just the perfect amount of salty. Jason whimpers as you pull off his cock with a pop and a smile on your face as you swallow all he spilled into your mouth. 

“Feeling any better?” you ask with a cheeky tone. 

“Mm, so much better, thank you my beautiful boy. I almost forgot about the ginormous gash on my abdomen.” You lean down to kiss his happy trail all the way up to his sternum before resting your head on his chest with a heaving sigh,wrapping your arms gently around his torso, being careful of said gash. “Don’t get too comfortable, honey, I’ve gotta put my pants on still.” 

“Oh, I forgot about that, oops.” You say, getting up off of him and taking the PJ pants you got out for him before. “Here, put 'em on.” You throw them onto his chest with a chuckle while he got up. You jump onto the bed where he was while he puts on his pants then snuggles into you, crawling back onto the bed. 

“I love you, my prince.” He whispered into your collarbone while leaving peppered bruises along it. 

“I love you too, Jay. Now get some rest, it’s the only way you’re going to heal properly.” 

“Jeez, you sound like alfred.” 

“Goodnight.” 

“G’night, honey.”

[the-laughing-lunatic]

hii! hope it’s not too much trouble, but maybe reader x scout, reader x engie, and reader x sniper - (established relationships with the mercs and reader) the reader doesn’t seem to be very happy lately - something bad that happened earlier in the week must’ve reminded reader of their past. (i really like your posts btw, you’re genuinely a really good writer)

(ahhhhh thx sm! I tried to make it as vague as possible so I hope you like it. Thx for requesting! p.s. I'm workin thru the rest of rqs soon bc school is wrapping up, so rqs may be back open soon :3)  

Scout, Engie, and Sniper w/ a reader who was reminded of their past (ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout☆

He feels like something’s off, but doesn’t know what

He wants to try to talk to you about it, ask if you’re alright and everything but he’s never been one for initiating that kind of emotional talk

When he finds you crying in your room though, he feels his heart break that he didn’t help you before

He scoops you up in his arms. “H- hey, doll, why’re you cryin’? Was it something I said?”

(He can’t help but still be a little insecure, you’re the first person he’s dated after all and he wants to do everything right for you)

If you don’t want to talk about it he’ll hold you and go on about how much he loves you so you don’t have to deal with silence

“You’re so perfect, doll, it kills me to see you like this, y’know, watchin’ tears roll down that pretty face of yours. Wish ya never felt the need to cry baby, I love you so goddamn much-”

Yeah he’s crying too, he can’t help it

If you do tell him he’d listen intently

He’d try to make you laugh so you’d stop crying, humor is his coping mechanism and he kinda projects it on you, sorry if that’s not your thing :/

He’ll make sure to give you plenty more affection a while after, youre getting spoiled as hell

☆Sniper☆

He’s not the best with emotions and all that jazz (he has the autism)

But when he finds you crying outside it hits him that something’s wrong

He sits next to you and places his hand on your shaking figure. 

“You okay darl?”

“No.”

“Would you like a hug dear?”

“Please.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to him, barely any space between the two of you.

He rubs circles into your back until your crying has settled down. “...you wanna talk about it now, love?”

If you don’t he’ll stay with you and idly trace shapes into your hand, letting you cry it out

If you do tell him he’ll nod empathetically “Oh, love,” he sighs, tilting your chin up to look at the night sky above you two

“Think ‘bout it this way. All those stars up there? The light we see from em’ now is from ages ago, but the actual bloody stars have completely different light.  And jus’ because we can see the light, don’t actually mean that it’s here anymore. Bugger, I’m shit at metaphors. Point is, that’s in the past, an’ even though you might think ‘bout it sometimes its still in the past. And I love ya.”

☆Engineer☆

Notices something’s off immediately, he’s a smart guy after all

Once you two are alone he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and ask you “Are you alright?” in that sweet voice that just makes you burst out into tears

Pats your back and hugs you as you cry “Shh, it’s alright sugar, it’s alright. You wanna talk about it?”

If you don’t want to he’ll scoop you up in his arms (but I’m taller than- yes. He can pick you up too) and get you some warm food

“Y’know, my momma said that a good hot meal is the best after bawlin’ your eyes out. We don’t exactly got anything you’d call a meal right now, but I can fix you up some toast with cinnamon if you'd like, honeybee.”

If you do tell him he’ll reassure you that everything okay

“Honey, I know the past ain’t really ever somethin’ that leaves, but you gotta remember things are alright right now. Stuff from back then can’t getcha, sure it hurts sometimes but you gotta remember things are good right now. And I’m here for you.”

Gives you so many kisses

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

[chocoqtelle]

pac — what's the drama? (ex edition bc that's all the messages were about 💀)

@ pile one

your words have HURTTTT someone. if this was someone you had to cuss out, I understand. it caused a lot of growth for them. this was like an awakening for them. they had to realize how they act isn't aligned with how they view themselves. you set boundaries to protect yourself and they weren't having it. they couldn't grasp the idea that you don't have to obey them and they aren't the main character. you went through some kind of heartbreak before this situation started but you actually learned from it. you realized you don't wanna experience that again and did better. you probably operate in a more logical way and hide your emotions until you're really comfortable with someone. after you experienced that heartbreak, you could have gotten into short lived relationships a lot and flings to protect your feelings. they see you in your power not worrying about them and it hurts them even more. don't go chasing them, let them enjoy the situation they put themselves in.

@ pile two

if you don't let your ex go immediately... there's nothing to like. the drama is that they're a piece of shit and you're still thinking about them. if they cheated once, they'll cheat again. if they used you, they'll use you again. if they replaced you, they'll replace you again. I need you to be so serious, do you really think someone like this is worth your time? you need to stop talking to people about this person and focus on yourself. a lot of people around you are lowkey haters too so you shouldn't be telling them much of anything. do you have any projects/goals of your own right now? besides things to do with them, of course. you're trying to rest but you're still worrying about your ex so how are you relaxing? 😭😭 you need to block them asap. ill tryyyy to be nice since I can see you're going through it but please have some standards for yourself and others. no, dating people like them will not fill that void. YOU need to fill that void by loving yourself enough that you don't need love from random losers to feel worthy. instead of being sad about the things you can't change, work on the things you can.

@ pile three

i wanna start off by saying this pile is not for everyone. then i wanna point out how annoyingggg you and your ex are 😭😭 ive been getting this piles energy all in the other readings even when it didn't make sense with the other piles messages. i swear y'all need to stop being stubborn. if you like them, you like them. I pulled the lovers and kept channeling let em know through this entire pac. i get you guys are all mad at each other but it doesn't even seem like the breakup was that serious. it seems like it was just a petty argument, moving homes, or a fight from way too long ago to still be upset about. you guys might not be realizing the things you did wrong too. im not gonna tell you to text your ex or anything though. just let things happen naturally. you have to maintain a balance. don't deny your clear feelings but don't be obsessed. you're independent but not overdependent. accept how you feel and do your shadow work. there's not a whole lot else besides that to do. if the same cycle is repeating with them then maybe try doing something different. i hate to be one of those "your ex is coming back" tarot readers but y'all are killing me.

[bokutosbiceps]

KENGAN ASHURA: any characters you’d like with a s/o who has a business and is a business person who’s part of the Kengan tournaments but they have another fighter.

ohma, raian, gaolang, agito (separately) x CEO!s/o

warnings: cursing, death threats, violence

a/n: i didn’t do any kengan omega characters since it clearly says kengan ashura even though i love my boi koga 🥺anyways, i hope you enjoy !! oh, also, i used gn pronouns for the reader (when necessary) since it seemed like that’s what you wanted in your request :3

tokita ohma would be incredibly jealous. like extremely jealous. he doesn’t understand why you’d ask someone else to be your company’s fighter when you’re literally dating him. he is always around whenever you’re strategizing with your fighter + he’ll make little quips like “i’d knock em out faster” or “i could beat the shit outta you so easily”. whenever you’re not around, he’ll make death threats toward your fighter to try to get them to back out so he could take his rightful place as your fighter. you have to set some very serious + clear boundaries w ohma so he can chill out. you’d have to explain that the main reason you don’t want him as your fighter is because you don’t wanna subject him to injury just for your benefit, even though he’s told you many times that he’d gladly go to battle, and die, for you. i could see him becoming fast friends w your fighter if they’re competent + laid back. he’s still jealous that you didn’t choose him, though. he has kind of pure intentions…but we all know the bastard just wants to fucking fight + even better, fight for you.

kure raian is going to be so fucking petty about it. he immediately starts bitching + whining to you. when that doesn’t work, he will seriously try to scare the shit out of the fighter you chose. i honestly don’t see him stopping at killing your fighter. if that happens, you realize you pretty much have to let raian be your fighter or else. if he decides against killing your fighter, he’ll make their life a living hell. and yours. he is around you + your fighter ever waking moment you spend together. first, he makes sure nothing fishy is going on. two, he makes sure that your fighter knows that they’re dead w a single wrong move or loss. your fighter might end up running away out of fear for their own life. raian will probably end up becoming your fighter one way or another. it’s completely unavoidable.

gaolang wongsawat likes that you’re strong willed + doesn’t really mind that you didn’t choose him to be your fighter. you guys keep your relationship + goalang’s job v separate, so he truly has no problem with this. he will, however, do a little bit of training w your fighter for both his + your benefit. it’s nice to have someone to spar w him since they’re always around but he also wants to make sure that they’re a competent fighter. he trains them super well + he helps your fighter bring you massive success. he wouldn’t hold back while fighting in a real match, though. sorry, but he’s going to put your fighter in the ground + not even feel bad about it. in the back of his mind, that’s kinda what you deserve for not choosing him to be your fighter. you know he’s more than capable. but again, he likes that about you. you make your decisions for yourself + he’s ready to stand behind whatever decision you make.

kanoh agito is surprisingly okay with it. he trusts your judgment + while he knows he’s stronger than 99.9% of the world, he lets you make your own decisions. plus, he knows he’s legally obligated to fight for metsudo so he wouldn’t be able to fight for you. that doesn’t mean he won’t help tho. he’ll even offer to spar with your fighter to make sure they’re actually strong enough to bring in success for you. you appreciate his help + he does everything he can (inside of his contract w metsudo) to make sure that you will be successful w this fighter. he’s also v aware of the fact that you may have a fighter who’s not him for official kengan matches, but your true protector will always be him. he wouldn’t entrust that job to anyone else as long as he’s alive. not ever.