#i wish that someone would just tell me what to do

[nenemura]

WALLFLOWER — (nrk x reader)

summary : in which you seem to be invisible to everyone, but not to him.

featuring : jungwon and sunoo from enhypen

cw : popular!riki x outcast!fem reader, angst, fluff, kissing

wc : 3.5k

nene’s note : this fic is inspired by twice’s wallflower !! pls reblog and tell me what you think of it !

“y/n? oh, you mean mina’s friend!”

“who’s y/n? the one who hangs out with nayoung and her friends?”

“i’m gonna ask the girl from jules’ class for help”

that’s all you ever were to people. someone’s friend, the one you can ask for help when you can’t figure your homework out. you lived in your friends’ shadows all the time, getting outshined every single day of your life. it was like you were invisible to everyone, as if you were a ghost desperately looking for someone who could see you. but that was never the case.

it’s not like your ‘friends’ paid that much attention to you either, they kept you around because you were kind enough to help them study whenever a big exam was coming. you weren’t oblivious to this treatment, in fact, you knew you didn’t deserve it. but the fear of being completely alone couldn’t let you walk away from them. but that loneliness, that emptiness within you never faded away, not even when you were surrounded by people. you spent most of your time with your nose stuck in a book, studying and studying for hours just to get distracted from those feelings inside you.

you wished someone could see you, get to know you, care about you. but you were sure that if you ever disappeared, no one would notice.

someone would notice, though.

that someone was nishimura riki. golden boy of the school, he was so skilled in every sport that multiple teams fought to have him in their group. he was friendly with everyone, boxy smile always showing whenever he met someone he talked with, even just one time, in the hallways. people absolutely adored him, always seeking his attention. he was everything you dreamed to be.

you didn’t know why, but he always greeted you with a smile whenever you crossed paths with him. you two didn’t even talk once, but he never lost the opportunity to flash you a grin whenever his eyes met yours. he was like that with everyone, you thought, probably because he pitied you. you thought it was a facade, he was popular, after all. he had a reputation to maintain. you disliked him for that reason, maybe it was just envy, but you just couldn’t stand seeing him surrounded by people all the time, while you lived in everyone’s shadow.

the bell rang, indicating the end of biology class. you were following mina and jules out of the classroom, when the teacher called out your name, gesturing you to stay. you turned to tell your two friends that you would stay behind and that you would see them later, but they were laughing between them, not even noticing you weren’t behind them anymore. you pressed your lips in a thin line, unfazed by the behavior since it happened so many times before. yet, it hurt every. single. time.

you pushed those thoughts aside, walking to the teacher who was waiting for you with a big smile. you liked her, she was always kind, always making time for her students whenever they were struggling. and that was exactly the reason why she called you.

“hi, y/n. sorry for keeping you behind, but i’d like to ask you a favor. there’s this student who’s failing biology and i was wondering if you could, perhaps, help them? if they fail it, they won’t be able to participate in next month’s tournament. do you think you could do it?” she explained, her voice soft and sweet as always.

you listen to her words carefully, smiling at her while you accepted her request. you weren’t so thrilled about it, since you knew it wasn’t going to be different from all the times you had ‘helped’ other students. they showed up, pretended to be interested just to make up an excuse and make you do all of their homework for them. but the teacher also promised you an extra credit, so you decided to comply anyway.

she told you to be at the school’s library on tuesdays and thursdays, from 4 to 6, and that she would notify the student for you.

so there you were, sitting at a library table, waiting for this mystery student to show up. it was already half past four, so you assumed that they wouldn’t even show up. you started gathering your things to leave, when you heard someone run behind you. you turned around to see who it was, just to find yourself face to face with nishimura riki. people glared at him while telling him to be silent, causing him to smile apologetically and bowing to them.

“i’m so sorry! practice ran late so i rushed here as fast i could, i’m glad you’re still here! you’re y/n, right? you should be the one helping me with biology” he explained, keeping his voice low to avoid getting scolded again by the students nearby.

on the other hand, you couldn’t believe your eyes. the boy you despised the most was in front of you, big smile as he looked down at you. the fact that he looked so pretty pissed you off even more.

“uh, don’t worry about it.” you simply said, uncomfortably shifting on your seat while he took the one right next to you. you took the book from your backpack and carefully placed it on the table, opening it on the page of the first chapter. you looked over at him for an instant, finding him with his own book open at the same page, waiting for you to say something.

“listen, i know you probably wanna be somewhere else, so i’ll spare you the trouble and bring you the homework done by tomor—” you were cut off by him, a confused expression displayed on his face. “what do you mean? i’m not gonna make you do my homework.” his eyebrows were furrowed, as if you were speaking nonsense. “i’d like some help to understand some of the topics, actually.” he said, his tone was soft, yet it seemed like he was bothered by what you said. did someone treat you like that before?

“oh.” that’s all you could say. you were feeling guilty for assuming his intentions, you were just so used to it.

there was an awkward silence for a brief moment, before riki took the matter into his own hands and started asking you questions about some concepts he hadn’t grasped before. you replied to them calmly, taking your time to repeat yourself or reformulate your sentences if he couldn’t understand them. during the whole time, he never once lost his focus, always looking at you attentively and, from time to time, praising your explanation skills, blabbering about how the book made everything look harder than it actually was.

having his eyes constantly on you made you feel a little overwhelmed, not being used to having so much attention on you. you felt… seen. it was awkward at first, but you couldn’t help but like it.

you reminded yourself that he was just being nice because you were helping him, not because he was actually interested in you.

the little tutoring session came to an end, faster than you thought, so you found yourself gathering your belongings to leave. riki did the same thing, casually greeting some of his friends while he walked with you towards the exit.

it was already dark outside, the days becoming shorter and shorter as the colder seasons approached. before you could excuse yourself to catch the bus, riki spoke. “um, you usually take the 6:30pm bus, right?” he asked, scratching his nape while he looked for your eyes, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. you wondered how he knew which bus you took, but decided to not mull over it too much. you nodded, tilting your head to the side as if you were asking where he was trying to get at with his question. “it’s still early, i can’t leave you here, alone in the dark. do you mind if i wait with you?” saying that you were surprised by those words was an understatement. you could feel warmth creeping up your neck, you never really spent time with boys outside of tutoring, let alone spoke to them for this long. “uh.. sure” you replied, your voice low and timid. you think you will never forget the smile riki gave you that night.

you walked around with him, listening to him complain about how his coach threatened him to not let him play at the tournament if he didn’t pass biology, and how glad he was you were there to help him. he also asked you lots of question, such as your favorite subjects, what you did in your free time, whether you put cereals first and then milk or vice versa. and it wasn’t just to avoid awkward silence, he truly cared about your answers, even going on a long rant about how putting cereals after milk was nonsense and how inconvenient it was.

before you could realize, it was already time for you to catch the bus. he walked you to the stop and waited for you to get safely on the bus, waving his hand while grinning widely at you. he didn’t leave until he saw the bus driving away, which made you feel like he cared about your safety, but you convinced yourself you were overthinking it.

once in your bed, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the afternoon you spent with the boy you disliked so much — in vain, you thought — and how your heart started beating slightly faster when you got a message from him asking if you got home safely. you mentally slapped yourself, you couldn’t start to have feelings for a boy who was pitying you. still, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his stupid jokes and silly behavior, the memory of his laugh lulling you to sleep.

the next day, you were sitting alone at the cafeteria since your friends collectively decided to skip school without letting you know. you were used to it anyway, it’s not like you talked to them when you were in their company, you just limited yourself to listening to them brag about whoever they were dating at that moment or about some new gossip that was circulating around, while keeping to yourself.

that’s why you were startled when riki showed up with two of his friends, who you recognised to be sunoo and jungwon. they were also pretty popular, sunoo being a social butterfly and jungwon being part of the student council.

“mind if we sit here?” riki asked with his usual smile, waiting for you to agree before eventually sitting next to you, while the other two guys sat in front of you. you were still kind of taken aback from this situation, but you were snapped out of your thoughts by riki resting his hand on your shoulder.

“this is y/n! y/n, they’re sunoo and jungwon. they’re good guys, so feel free to be yourself around them” he explained, introducing you to his friends. you wanted to focus on the two boys sitting in front of you and politely greet them, but you could only feel riki’s hand on you, making your heart pound against your ribs.

“nice to meet you! — sunoo spoke, his voice lively and sweet — so you’re the famous y/n, huh? riki talks about you a lo—” he suddenly stopped, an ‘ouch’ escaping his lips as he massaged his leg. riki immediately grabbed your attention: “what he was saying is that i told them you were tutoring me and how well you explain things!” you missed the way he shot sunoo a glare before grinning at you.

jungwon, in the meantime, was snickering while eating his lunch, throwing a playful glance at riki with a smirk on his lips.

you weren’t exactly understanding what was happening, given that you were still confused by the sudden company and the fact that riki talked about you to his friends. it was probably because you could help them in the future, wasn’t it?

you had a great time during lunch, sunoo excitedly telling you about the new drama play he would star in next month and jungwon occasionally asking you questions about you. the awkwardness in you faded the more you spent time with the boys, breaking out of your shell and telling them stories of your childhood. riki was looking at you with a fond smile the entire time, head resting on his fist, thinking how nice was watching you finally open up and get along with his friends.

time flew once again, the bell that signaled the end of lunch break ringing in the cafeteria. you had learned to have a lesson in the classroom right next to sunoo’s, so you waved bye to riki and jungwon and made your way to class with the bubbly boy.

you had never felt this good before, it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, loneliness being replaced by a nice feeling. this is what having someone caring about you meant? you wondered how you endured being alone until then, finally knowing what it felt to be seen.

you spent the whole time, thinking about the boy you were tutoring, catching yourself dumbly smiling at the thought of him. you needed a reality check, because in no way he was going to feel the same about you. so, with a sigh, you drifted your thoughts from riki to the teacher and his lesson.

weeks passed, your study dates with riki allowed you to become closer and closer to the boy. you started opening up more, laughing and making jokes with him, telling him about embarrassing moments from middle school and so on. you started seeing him outside of tutoring sessions as well, inviting you to have lunch with him, sunoo and jungwon more often, asking you to try a new cafe that opened in town with them.

you eventually fell for him, feeling nervous every time he stood too close to you or blushing when you caught him staring at you. you knew it was one sided, trying your hardest to not delude yourself and end up with a broken heart and alone all over again. you cherished his company more than anything in the world, so you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

you were walking to your locker when you heard your name being shouted by a voice you recognized in no time. you turned around, finding riki standing in front of you with a paper in his hand, encouraging you to take it. you looked at it and saw a 75/100 on his biology test. your eyes widened as much as your smile, looking up at him. “oh my god, riki! you passed!” you said, genuinely happy for the boy in front of you. he worked hard and definitely deserved the grade, you also felt a little proud of yourself at the same time. “yes! it’s all thanks to you!” he engulfed you in his arms, holding you close to his body for a second longer than he should. your face was completely red once he let go of you, you prayed for him to be too excited to notice how that brief — even though for you seemed like it lasted for hours — contact affected you.

“so..” you started speaking, to recompose yourself. “no more tutoring sessions, huh?” you asked, disappointment could be easily found in your tone.

“hm.. about that.” riki said, looking a little nervous for some reasons you couldn’t quite tell. “are you going to prom, this weekend?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes while he looked down at you.

“no, i don’t think so.” you replied almost instantly. was he going to ask you out for prom? no, impossible.

“would you like t—” he couldn’t finish his sentence, that a girl tapped him on his shoulder, completely ignoring your presence or the fact that he was talking to you.

“hi riki.. i was wondering if you.. if you wanted to go to prom with me.” she asked, her pretty, long lashes batting quickly as she smiled at him, waiting for his answer.

“oh, thank you but i was going to ask someone else to go with me,” riki politely declined, obtaining a scoff in response. he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to where you were standing, only to see that you had disappeared.

you left the moment you heard the girl’s question, tears brimming in your eyes as you felt like a fool, thinking that he could ever have feelings for you. that day, you left school early, running to your house and shutting yourself in your room. you cried every tear you had within yourself.

riki had tried to reach out to you countless times, sending you lots of texts, even calling you endless times. but you ignored every one of them. you shouldn’t have gotten closer to the boy, you shouldn’t have fallen for him and you shouldn’t have hoped that he could, somehow, feel the same towards you.

it was prom night, you were on your couch, watching some old romcom filled with cliches and cringy lines, but that made you tear up everytime nonetheless.

suddenly, you heard a knock on your door. you wondered who could possibly be at that hour of a saturday night.

you opened the door, finding riki in formal attire, hair slicked back and a huge bouquet of purple flowers — which you remembered telling him was your favorite color.

“riki?” you called softly, closing the door behind you and looking at him with a confused expression. your heart skipped a beat when you saw him — he looked absolutely gorgeous, he looked like he’d stepped out a fairy tail.

“y/n..” he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nerves and determination. “i tried contacting you, but you weren’t replying. i wanted to ask you to prom, but since it’s too late, i thought about bringing prom to you.” a shy smile tugged at his full lips as he pronounced those words.

you stared at him, speechless. he wanted to go to prom with you? and when he couldn’t reach you, he came all the way to your house, just to make it happen? it felt like a dream, too good and too sweet to be true.

noticing your surprise, riki carefully set the bouquet on the ground. then, he took your hand in his, warmth spreading all over your face.

“dance with me,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with hope.

without waiting for your reply, he led you closer to him, his free hand settling on your waist, while with his other hand, he fumbled awkwardly with his phone, tongue poking out as he tried to play a slow song for you two to dance to.

the sight made you giggle, finding endearing how clumsy he was.

you looped your arms around his neck, gazing up at him as you swayed together. the world seemed to fall away — there was only the two of you, the soft music, and the steady rhythm of your movements.

he held your gaze the entire time, his lovesick smile resting on his pretty lips — the ones you couldn’t help but glance at more times than you cared to admit.

as the song came to an end, the world seemed to slow down around the two of you. he rested his forehead gently against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face as he took both of your hands in his, holding them like they were going to break if he applied to much force.

“y/n..” he began, his voice soft and steady, though you could sense the nervousness beneath it. “i like you. i’ve liked you for so long, i couldn’t resist keeping it to myself anymore.” he whispered, waiting for any reaction on your part.

tears welled up in your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. riki stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering on your back before holding you closer.

“i like you too, riki. so much, i can’t believe you actually feel the same” a soft laugh escaped his lips, filled with relief and happiness. he brought one of his hands to your cheek, delicately caressing your skin. “can i be your boyfriend, then?” he asked, his lips curling up into a shy smile as he bit down his lower lip to keep it from spreading too much.

you didn’t answer his question with words. instead, you leaned in, catching his lips in a passionate yet slow kiss. his hand on your cheek moved down to your neck, while his other hand rested on your waist.

at that moment, it felt as if you were touching the sky with a finger. you felt loved in a way that warmed every layer of your heart, cared for in a way that melted every lingering doubt. but, most importantly, you felt seen — truly seen — for the first time.

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I am literally going to answer all of these? I have no secrets.

1. what's the best advice you've ever been given?

Don’t think about which option you should choose today. Think about what regrets you’ll have in the future based on each choice.

2. what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

Spiraling anxiety

3. what is your favorite way to self care?

Sitting in a dark, quiet room by myself OR taking a vacation by myself.

4. tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

Ehh, I don’t know that any are more vivid. I tend to live more in the present and for the future than in the past. I don’t like to dwell, probably because most of my vivid memories are traumatic. I.e., my parents deaths, my fiancées death, my brothers death… etc.

5. if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

I would have spent more time drawing.

6. what is something that you've always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

Sky diving

7. what is your fatal flaw?

Overthinking to the point of self-defeatism. Think of Marvin in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

8. what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn't?

Criticism

9. do you cry? why or why not?

Yes. When I disappoint those close to me.

10. tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

I am a non-technical person in a technical job. I’m faking it, but no one knows.

11. tell me about your last failed friendship.

My husband (no filter) told a friend of mine that I thought he was neglecting his dog. My friend was livid that I hadn’t told him directly.

12. who do you wish you could connect with but haven't been able to connect with?

My last surviving immediate family member. We have never clicked.

13. what can make you excessively angry?

Injustice & memes that over simplify complex issues & the plebs that make the memes their life’s philosophy.

14. do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

No. I’m very sensitive to criticism and having attention drawn to me. I get embarrassed very easily.

15. do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? Why?

Numb. Excessive emotion has been negative emotion in my life experience.

16. what is a skill or talent you've completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

Guitar. I picked up writing fanfic again. Im a serial hobbyist.

17. what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

Purple… and I no longer have one.

18. what is something you can't bring yourself to get rid of?

My parents wedding rings.

19. tell me something you don't like telling the people you are close to.

That they could do better at something. I manage for work so it’s difficult to feel that I’m a manager of people personally.

20. tell me what you think others think about you.

Probably that I’m a know it all who thinks she’s too clever. But hopefully, also that I care about people, and can set aside my premonitions to be present when someone needs me.

Reblog with your answers (or just one or two) if you care to share. I love learning about all of you. :)

deep asks that get uncomfortably personal

what’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?

what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

what is your favorite way to self care?

tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

what is something that you’ve always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

what is your fatal flaw?

what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn’t?

do you cry? why or why not?

tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

tell me about your last failed friendship.

who do you wish you could connect with but haven’t been able to connect with?

what can make you excessively angry?

do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? why?

what is a skill or talent you’ve completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

what is something you can’t bring yourself to get rid of?

tell me something you don’t like telling the people you are close to.

tell me what you think others think about you.

[wandixx]

Seriously chaotic fashion misadventures

I realized I posted a teaser and never really followed up on it, so here is some more of that

“Hey, Dami?”

Boy hadn’t looked up from the kittens he was bottle feeding but let out a hum indicating he listened.

“I'm thinking about trying out a more girlish style. Do you think it would suit me?”

Well, Damian had no idea but if Dani wished to give it a chance, then, well, the only proper reaction was to offer his aid.

*-*-*

“Father, I require access to your rouge gallery.”

Bruce almost choked on his breakfast when his youngest made this announcement.

Rouge gallery, as his children playfully called it, was vast collection of lipsticks, which he collected to uphold his Brucie persona. Famous playboy with head constantly in the clouds couldn’t not show up with discreet signs of scandal from time to time. And it couldn’t always be the same shade. Or scent when he choose more subtle approach and used one of his more feminine perfumes.

In all honesty, he enjoyed this.

But that’s not the point, point was that Damian wanted to use it and Bruce needed to know what disaster would fall upon him if he agreed.

“Mind telling me why, chum?”

Dick, who visited Manor for a weekend, barely stifled his laughter while Tim stared at his empty coffee mug like it personally betrayed him. Cass just wore her usual knowing and mischievous smile.

Damian shifted in his chair, hands clenching on butter knife. He was nervous and suddenly Bruce dreaded the answer he was about to hear.

“I don’t see how me sharing this information would change anything. It won’t be used to cause harm to anyone but it’s necessary in the extracurricular project I just started.”

“Dami, what project?” Dick asked, voice oozing with genuine curiosity and excitement. He was almost bouncing.

“I don’t want to disclose it.”

“Is this a hero or civilian type of deal?”

Damian didn’t look any of them in the eyes, both hands clenching on his seat as he kept shifting. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was his youngest… flustered?

“Civilian”

“Alright, great” Dick swung back with single clap, almost tripping his chair over “I think B won’t have anything against you using his rouge gallery, will he?” Man knew his oldest son well enough to recognize his ‘don’t you dare to disagree’ tone. He was confused but there wasn’t any harm so he nodded with affirmative hum.

“Thank you, Father”

Boy practically inhaled rest of his food and rushed outside. Despite all his training and all his efforts, they clearly saw his excitement. Tim pinched himself and returned to staring at his mug.

“Cass, have you seen what I’ve seen or am I overreacting?” Dick asked, barely restraining his enthusiasm. Girl nodded eagerly, shoving more crumbs into her mouth. Young man cheered, throwing his hands up.

“What have I missed?” Tim mumbled, frowning a little.

“BABY BAT HAS A CRUSH!”

Cass nodded again with wide smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Who were they? What did he know about them? Was Protocol 3r0s started? Did someone run a background check already? What could they do if they somehow hurt Damian? Was this person a risk to their identities? Oh gods, oh no.

He probably will have to do The Talk™.

He always dreaded having The Talk, with any of his kids. He felt The Talk with Damian would be even worse. Understandably so.

“Also sleep in at least three da-”

“Fuck off, dick.”

��Was this insult or-”

His children remained obvious to how much work it meant, cheering and sassing each other like they often did.

*-*-*

Damian did not know how it was possible but he lowered his guard enough to get caught.

"What are you doing?" Brown choked out after they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It does not concern you–"

"You're rummaging through my wardrobe, not many things concern me more and also, that's frickin creepy don't do it to anyone outside of the family"

She did have a point however he was not convinced it would be the correct approach if he shared his plan. Father's wards (even unofficial like Brown) tended to make assumptions and overreact based on these conjectures. Dani wasn't easy to scare off but he didn't want to check if his family would manage. They often did things thought to be impossible.

He tried to get away but the blonde stood fiercely in a door, leaving the window as the only way out. He wasn't this desperate. Yet.

Girl looked more and more angry at his silence. He had to give her some answers.

Now that he actually considered it, she could be a useful asset. She was far better versed in women's fashion and if he phrased it correctly, he wouldn't even need to bribe her. Question was, how should he phrase it?

"I have an acquaintance- I have a friend," he corrected himself "from the animal shelter I volunteer at. She mentioned wanting to try out more 'girlish style' and asked for my opinion. I wanted to see if you had any clothes that would fit her. She is smaller than me so I thought that whatever I take, it wouldn't be missed." 

Brown grinned with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth if not coming to this room in the first place. 

"Say no more, I have a plan Demon Child"

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Psychic (kinda, not really)

Dpxdc Prompt #4

holy shit i am so fucked right now

That's all that was on Duke Thomas's mind as he stood in the middle one of Bruce Wayne's (Batman! because apparently the butts do match) ball rooms, ready to be the entertainment for a gala.

how did my life ever come to this point?

At least he had an answer to that question. What do you get when you throw Danny Fenton and Duke Thomas together? An accurate psychic team that can bullshit their way into making enough money to keep themselves off the streets.

Honestly they hadn't really planned for it, but they made a pretty accurate psychic team. Danny could go invisible and intangible which was very helpful in gathering information about clients. He could talk to ghosts as well and if they weren't you know trying to attack him on sight (which was apparently a thing? that ghosts did to Danny?) they were pretty good sources of info. Finally, he new how to do all the generic psychic things like palm reading, tarot cards, tea leaves, ect.

"My friend Sam taught me!" he said, when they were realizing this plan could actually maybe work. "She never believed in it, i didn't, still don't, believe in it either but it could be useful if we actually decide to do it."

If Danny was the one with all the psychic knowledge where does Duke come in you may ask?

Danny couldn't tell a lie to save his life and couldn't get through a palm reading without bursting into laughter because of how crazy it sounded. Duke had a good poker face, learned quickly to lie on the street, and most importantly could see Danny when he was invisible thanks to his own meta ability.

They bought a tent, a deck of tarot cards, a cheap crystal ball (that was really just plastic), and some psychic-ish robes that were warm enough to double as blankets.

And so Danny and Duke started their farce, telling people scarily accurate visions and advice. They started getting invited to more events, high society ones at that, to serve as entertainment. They paid well (no matter how much the condescending nature of everyone attending irked Duke to no end) and everything was great.

They got an apartment, could actually eat 3 meals a day, and had a steady source of work.

Then Duke told someone who murdered their wife and the Bats were interested in him.

Duke and Danny, of course, didn't know this at the time so when they got invited to a gala at Bruce Wayne's (the richest man in Gotham) manor they accepted without a thought.

And then when Danny was scoping out the place after they arrived he found the Batcave because Bruce Wayne was Batman and invited Duke soley to investigate him.

Man did he wish that he could turn invisible like Danny. Maybe then Batman's piercing stare would go through him instead of straight at him.

[systemadministratorclu]

I know my disability is not anywhere NEAR as life altering as some others here, and I don't do commissions, but I still wish to add my own example. I am visually impaired/legally blind and can't identify colors.

I still make art. I HAVE made art.

Firstly, I'm a writer. I write fanfiction as well as a few original stories, and I create OCs, some of which are fandomless.

Secondly, I do image edits with a digital drawing app where all I need to get a color for something is to Google a color swatch or color palette and the app has a feature that can match it. Here are some edits I've done:

They aren't great, they're not mindblowing masterpieces, some of these were done as jokes. But they were done by me without AI

Third, not as recently, I did pencil drawings, sometimes added to with pen:

I even made a cosplay once. And none of this was done with AI. None of it NEEDED AI. Would my art LOOK better if I used an AI? Possibly. But you know what it wouldn't look like? Mine. It wouldn't look like something I did. It wouldn't look like it took me a while to do. It wouldn't look like someone spent time carefully thinking about it or adjusting it and detailing it as they went. And without that, there's no feeling to it. There's no story. There's no "I found a way to do the art i wanted despite my disability." And all of that, I think, is pretty important to what makes a finished piece art instead of just an image.

AI can't recreate that. It can't go through a creative process. It can't tell a story. It can't make an audience feel anything (except maybe outrage). AI can create an image, but it can't create art.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[princess-luvvv]

A GOLD RING AND COLD FEET

Rafe Cameron x fem!exgirlfriend!reader

A/N: (This is lowk 4.3k words I’m sorry) Hey guys lol I literally do not know what I’m doing help. I did not proofread idek how to work this app so if this sucks just don’t tell me bc this thing is the biggest pain in the ass lol. Like I am so genuinely sorry I’m such a grandma. Also this is what I listened to while writing this so feel free to listen as well :)

WARNINGS: AUTHOR CANT FIGURE THIS APP OUT, there’s no smut (not going to traumatize you guys with my brain on the first post), girl reader, marriage (basically the whole theme), cheating (sort of from reader but like it’s fine), ermmm just bad writing im sorry lol. Just a man yearning (like good). Okay Im sorry byeee.

14 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE BRIDAL SHOWER

Rafe Cameron was going to be the death of me. I knew it.

We had dated for 7 years. He asked me out when we were 14 after knowing each other since we were 6. He broke up with me when we were 21. He said he “couldn’t be tied down in his 20s”.

After that I thought I was completely broken. I had never even imagined loving anyone else - having to love someone else.

But here I was. 14 days away from my wedding to a man I didn’t love. A part of me felt like such an asshole. Marrying a man who I knew I’d never love. But Jackson had his faults. He raised his voice too much. He never opened my door…not since our third date at least. He worked all the time. He regularly forgot important events like anniversaries and birthdays.

We started dating 10 months, 1 week, and 4 days after Rafe broke up with me.

Even though most people said it was time to move on it still felt too soon to me. 3 years later and it still feels too soon sometimes.

But here I am. At my bridal shower. Wearing a silver ring when I haven’t touched a piece of silver jewelry since I was 9.

I was opening gifts when only one remained. A small black box with no tag attached.

“Who is this one from?” I ask the crowd of giddy women surrounding me. They all share confused looks. Shrugging and comments like “It’s not mine” falling from their lips. This only furthered my confusion as I opened the box.

I gasped.

Inside was a beautiful - gold - ring. It was my dream ring.

“Oh my gosh it’s just beautiful!” My best friend Grace said.

“Jackson must have picked it out for you since yours is missing.” Grace says causing me to furrow my brows.

I looked down to my left hand and noticed the absence of my ring.

Since when was that gone?

“Oh yeah…I guess he did.” I smile and tuck the box away. Making a mental note to ask Jackson later. Even though I knew he didn’t get it for me, a part of me hoped.

As my friends went on and on about how beautiful this wedding would be and how happy they were…I couldn’t help but wish their joy was infectious.

At least someone is excited right?

12 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: BACHELORETTE

I was sitting in an expensive restaurant in downtown Charleston sipping a cocktail I’m pretty sure costs more than my salad. Jackson and I had decided to have our Bachelorette/Bachelor parties in the same city in case anything happened. He was out having a guys night while I was out with my girls. I hadn’t had this much fun doing anything wedding related well ever.

“It’s not a coincidence that you think that and Jackson isn’t here” a little voice inside my brain taunts me. But I push it down. Along with the bile rising in my throat. From the alcohol or the impending commitment of forever to a person who I know I don’t love - which, I’m not sure.

“How are you babe?” My friend Ava says as she turns her entire body to face me. I was tracing shapes on the condensation on the outside of my barely touched drink while I tuned out the rest of the chatter.

“I’m wonderful how about you Ava?” I smile and meet her eye. She gives an unconvinced smile and repeats her question: “Come on. How are you really? Cold feet? We can get on the next flight out of America just say the word.” She says with a laugh. And I know she’s joking but part of me is screaming “YES!” Inside of my head.

I laugh and shake my head.

“No cold feet. Just lukewarm maybe.”

Lukewarm. It’s funny cause that’s basically a word that sums up the entirety of Jackson and I’s relationship. I hadn’t felt fire, sparks, passion…any of it. Not since-

“Lukewarm is okay. Marriage is big. But…you’ll be okay.” Ava says cutting off my thoughts. And I can see her trying to hide her real feelings. She wants me to talk to him. Not him. Him.

The him who left me in a hotel room in Key West on what was supposed to be our 8 year anniversary trip. The him who wouldn’t stop sending letters to my house. The him who sent me 127 texts and 87 voicemails since last Tuesday. Which is apparently the day the Cameron’s wedding invitation arrived. I wasn’t going to invite them but I felt I needed to. Sarah and I were still friends and I adored Wheezie. The him who took up every inch of my heart. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself he didn’t.

LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HOTEL…

I entered my private suite in the hotel. I had gotten my drunk pack of bridesmaids back to their rooms…well the ones that were sleeping in their own rooms tonight. I had my own room this trip. My bridesmaid Lila insisted on it in case Jackson wanted to sneak over from his hotel…that’s what she said. But I knew she secretly wanted to give me my space away from the wedding buzz and events. I was grateful for that.

Until I was not.

Because the second I opened my door and ripped off my crown that said “BRIDE” I looked up and saw a man sitting on the couch in the suites living room. His elbows resting on his large thighs as he hung his head.

He looks up when I walk in.

I should’ve been scared…but I knew exactly who it was.

I flicked on the light. “Rafe what- what are you doing here?” I say in half anger half disbelief. OBX was at least 7 hours from here.

What the hell was he thinking?

“I had to see you…” I shake my head as he stands up and walks towards me. I take a step back.

“No. No. You can’t do this to me.” He walks closer. I put out my hands. Placing them on his chest to keep distance between us.

“Please just hear me out….” He gently grips my wrists that are placed on his chest. He paused for a second. Looking into my eyes to see if I would stop him again. I let him continue.

“I know…I know I have no right to be here. No right to do this. But please just listen to what I have to say…” He sighed before continuing. “You can’t marry him. Baby you can’t….I’m begging you. He doesn’t treat you right. You know that. I have so many regrets in my life…but I’d live them all over a million times if it meant I never let you go. I regret that every breath I take.”

My eyes gloss over. His touch was so gentle unlike Jackson’s. He didn’t raise his voice at me. He didn’t do anything but love me exactly the way I wanted while also being everything I needed.

He sighs seeing my eyes tear up. “Baby don’t- don’t cry….it’s just-….I can tell you’re not happy.” He says as he wipes a tear that escaped my eyes.

“I-I’m happy…” I say weakly.

But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Me or him?

He sighs. Bringing a hand up to my cheek to wipe away another tear. His hand not moving. “You’re not. I can see it. I know you…I see it in your face when you look at him. Those beautiful eyes have never told me a lie.”

“You don’t know me anymore…” another lie. He knew me. He knew me. He knew my coffee order at every coffee shop on the island. He knew my favorite songs and the lyrics to all of them. He knew my favorite movie. He knew my favorite animal.

He laughs softly in disbelief.

“I don’t know you? I know you. I know your order at every Mexican restaurant on the island. I can recite your coffee orders in my sleep. I know every word to your favorite Taylor Swift songs. Your favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast and you love the soundtrack. You love penguins and you’re a dog person. I know you baby.”

I cry harder as he recites everything about me. On surface it’s not much. Small talk topics he could’ve figured out from social media. But it goes so much deeper. He knows what makes me tick. What I need when I’m sad. How to cheer me up even through tears.

If only he could do that now…

“Does that asshole even know your favorite Jane Austen book? Huh? Does he? Cause I do. And it’s Emm-“

“Stop! Just stop Rafe! Just- just go! Why-why are you doing this me? This isn’t fair.” I say wiping my tears. I was full on crying now.

“I can’t just sit back and watch you marry someone who’s not going to make you happy. You deserve so much better. You don’t deserve someone who’s never there for you, or doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated - like the woman I love. I know I was stupid to let you go. I was young - and I thought I wanted freedom, but I was wrong. I haven’t known a minute of freedom since you left. I miss you, I miss us. And I need you more than I need air to breathe…”

“Please. Don’t marry him. Please baby…” He’s begging now. I’ve never seen Rafe Cameron beg for anything.

“Rafe I’m-I’m getting married in 12 days I can’t-“ I cut myself off with a sob.

He pulls me against his chest. I don’t protest as I cry harder. Pretty much sobbing now.

I clutch onto the end of his shirt. “I have to marry him Rafe…”

“Why? Why do you have to marry him? You know this isn’t what you want.” He says pleading with me. Running a soothing hand up and down my back. Providing me more comfort than I’ve known all of my relationship with Jackson.

“I know.” I say softly. My voice hoarse.

“Then don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I made the wrong choice a few years ago, but I’m here now. I want you not some false pretense of freedom. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I can give you a ring that you actually like, and a house that we build together. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t marry him. Be with me.” I pause when he mentions the ring. I look down to the gold ring on my left hand. Silently piecing things together.

“Did you send me a new ring?” I look back up him. Brows furrowed. My face puffy from crying. When I meet his eyes I see how utterly heartbroken he looks. It breaks me a little bit.

“I-uh…yeah I did.” He says. And as he confirms my theory I step away from him. Letting out sobs as I turn my back towards him. One hand cradling my stomach as the other covers my mouth.

“Hey - hey what’s wrong. Talk to me.” He says as he walks up behind me placing a soothing hand on my shoulder letting his hands rub me gently.

“Y-you remembered the ring.” I had shown him the type of ring I wanted back when I thought we were going to get married.

I was so stupid at 20. Or maybe I was just naive.

“Of course I remembered the ring. You showed it to me a million times. I know it was your dream ring and I couldn’t bear the idea of him giving you something you didn’t actually want…” He explains with a confused expression. Not quite sure why it was hurting me so bad.

The thought that he had gotten me a ring I wanted even though he didn’t want me marrying Jackson made me want to cry…and vomit.

“I-I can’t-“ My legs give out and I drop to my knees. Rafe immediately goes down with me. Pulling me into his chest. I was now cradled in his lap as he rocked me gently while I cried.

“Please don’t cry baby….it hurts me so bad.”

That night I fell asleep in Rafes arms.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Rafe brought her to her hotel bed and tucked her in he couldn’t help but feel the urge to get in bed and hold her as she slept. But he knew how awful she’d feel if she woke up next to him knowing she betrayed Jackson. So he left a note next to her bedside and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. The words “I love you” mumbled softly as she slept.

ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE NEXT MORNING.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Jackson walks into the hotel room of his future wife he can’t help the guilt eating at him. He brings in the takeout bags and starts to place it onto a tray.

He takes out the water and Advil he got from the pharmacy and brings it over to her bedside.

As he’s placing the hangover cure on her nightstand a paper written on hotel stationery catches his eye.

He reads through the paper.

“All my love, R.C.”

He folds up the note and places it back in his pocket before going back to the takeout bags. Ready to act as if nothing happened.

FIRST PERSON POV

I wake up with an empty feeling in my stomach. The same one I’ve had for 3 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.

I hear someone walking around the suite and as much as I know it’s probably Jackson…a part of me hopes…

Seconds later Jackson comes into my room with a smile. Holding a tray of food.

Odd. He’s never done sweet gestures for me like this.

“Good morning my love…I thought this would help cure the hangover. I ordered breakfast from that place you like downtown. You always talk about how much you wish we had one back at home so…” As he explains his reasoning for being here the sick feeling grows in my stomach. And I wish it was hangover sickness. I felt like such crap. Here he was being so sweet to me and I cried in the arms of another man last night.

I look around the room for any evidence Rafe was here. Feeling slightly disappointed but relieved that I didn’t find anything.

“Have fun last night?” Jackson says as he picks a blueberry off my plate.

“Uh yeah….it was really fun.” I smile and lie. But he can’t tell the difference so he nods his head before getting up and kissing my forehead.

“Well I have to go into work early tomorrow so the guys and I are heading back home but…I love you.” He says. He rarely says those three words. And that itself wouldn’t be weird. We’re getting married of course we tell each other we love each other. But paired with the weird domestic wake-up I had this morning it left an icky feeling in my stomach. But I smiled and nodded. Swallowing my food before replying.

“Okay…love you too.”

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY: THE REHEARSAL DINNER

“Have you seen my gold earrings?” I ask Jackson. Walking around our shared bathroom while he was shaving. We were getting ready for our rehearsal dinner before we left for the wedding venue in the morning.

“Which earrings?” He asks. Not pausing his movements of shaving his face.

“The ones I always-“ I huff in defeat knowing it’s no use. I’ve worn those earrings everyday for the past 9 years. They were Rafe’s 2 year anniversary gift to me.

I walk around the bedroom looking under a few things before my phone pings distracting me for a second. I walk over to it and turn the screen over to see an Instagram DM message request.

“Hey…I want to say I am so sorry to do this to you. I know you’re getting married in 2 days but there’s something you should know…”

THREE HOURS UNTIL WEDDING DAY: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING

I was pacing around the cabin of my private room on the property of our venue.

The venue was a family owned property on the mainland. It was gorgeous. Jackson was in the cabin across the venue in the Groom’s cabin. I was staying in the Bridal lodge.

I felt nauseous. My throat felt like it was closing and the white matching way too expensive PJ set I was gifted especially for tonight felt like it was constricting my air. The cabin suddenly felt stuffy and like the walls were about to close in at any minute. I was all alone.

I pull out my phone quickly going to the only number I had on speed dial.

He picks up on the first ring - he always does.

RAFES POV

The whole day I had been sulking at home watching football and drinking whiskey. My lab Daisy sitting by my side as she watched me drown my sorrows.

Was she really going to marry him?

I had dozed off for a few hours before a phone ringing woke me up.

I look at the screen and immediately picked up.

“I need you.” I was standing up running to my shoes before the sentence was even over.

“I’m coming baby…I’m on my way just stay put okay?” Her shaky voice was breaking my heart. I grabbed my keys and made an hour long drive less than 40 minutes.

FIRST PERSON POV

I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest. My eyes puffy and crying, sitting at the edge of the bed when Rafe barged in. He immediately dropped to his knees next to me. Pulling me into his lap. Cradling me as he rocked me back and forth.

“I’m here baby…I’m here.” He repeats the words like a mantra to ease my mind. And it does. But it doesn’t fill the pit in my stomach that seems to have taken a permanent residence.

“Talk to me baby…please you’re scaring me…” I could hear the fear in his voice. And I felt like such a dick. I called my ex boyfriend to help me the night before my wedding to another man.

I’m the worst.

“I-I’m so sorry….I didn’t know who else to call.” I get out between sobs. He shakes his head. Grabbing my face with both of his hands.

“Shhh….I just need you to tell me what you need. I’m right here. Just tell me how to help. Okay?”

How does he always know what to say? It’s ridiculous.

“I need out of this…” And at that sentence Rafe was pretty sure he could’ve cried a happy tear. But he needed to be sure.

“Out of what baby?” He knew. But he needed to know.

“You know what.” I pause before continuing. Sniffling and wiping my tears. “Jackson cheated on me. His bachelor party…she texted me the night our rehearsal dinner. She was their bartender in Charleston. But that’s not even the worst part…” I shake my head in disbelief at myself. “The worst part is I don’t even care. My fiancée cheated on me less than two weeks before our wedding. And I can’t find it in me to care.”

I knew I never loved Jackson. And that’s part of why I was marrying him. Because I knew that if I never loved him he’d never be able to hurt me…not like Rafe did at least.

I continue:

“I’m literally incapable of loving him because every inch of my heart belongs to you. And it kills me. I should be devastated right now. But- but all I can think is that I need you. And it’s so cold and you hate driving at night but this is the second time you’ve driven over an hour for me in two weeks.”

In reality it didn’t take Rafe an hour to get here. But he let me continue anyways.

“I’m terrible-“ He cuts me off.

“No. You’re perfect. I know you think you have to settle for this but you don’t. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be here. Whether or not you get married in 12 hours I’m always going to be there when you need me. I don’t care what it is or where you are. You call and I’m there. You need me…and I’m right here baby. I’ll always be right here. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

I look at him as he says that. And suddenly nothing about this makes sense. Why am I getting married to Jackson?

He sucks.

I stand up. Grabbing Rafes hands pulling him up with me.

“We need to leave.” I look around the room at my things. Rafe immediately nods and starts packing my things into my suitcase with me.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll take you anywhere baby. Car? Train? Plane? Boat? Fuck I’ll swim across the Atlantic for you baby.”

I pause and glance up at him from across my suitcase that we’re both knelt over. I meet his gaze. His eyes show me nothing but seriousness. Standing 10 toes behind his words. I wrap an arm around his neck and place an arm on his shoulder to steady myself as I lean in and kiss him.

He’s so taken aback but he kisses back after realizing this isn’t another one of his dreams that have felt like nightmares these past 3 years.

I pull away and he slightly sighs at the disconnect.

“Anywhere that’s not here. Just need to be with you. Please.”

2 HOURS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AN HOUR LATER ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT

I look around the room once more to make sure I have everything.

“You got everything you need baby?” He asks me and I nod.

“I’m gonna take this to the car.” I was carrying my pillow and blanket I had brought. Rafe insisted on carrying my bags. He nods but stays in his place before speaking up.

“Okay I’ll be there in a second I’m gonna take one last look around.” I nod before walking to his truck and getting inside.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Rafe pulls the object out of his pocket. Placing it on the dresser.

He grabs her bags taking one last look at the wedding dress hanging on the closet door before shutting the door behind him.

The silver ring shimmering in the moonlight sitting on the dresser where he left it.

FIRST PERSON POV

Rafe gets back in the car and looks over at me.

“If you change your mind I don’t mind-“ I cut him off.

“I’m not changing my mind. Now drive.” He smiles before putting the truck in reverse.

As we drive for a few minutes a question plagues my mind: Why didn’t he say anything the morning after the bachelorette party?

“Can I ask you something?” He glances over at me. He had a comforting hand on my thigh as he drove.

“Anything.” I smile at his answer while look at my lap before continuing.

“Why didn’t you say anything the morning after that night in Charleston? Not a text or a note or anything? I know you didn’t have to I just…hated waking up with no evidence that you had even been there.” Rafe’s brows furrow.

I did leave a note. He thought to himself.

“Baby I left a note on your dresser…didn’t you see it?” He says confused.

“No…the next morning I woke up and Jackson was…” I trailed off. Suddenly piecing everything together. Rafe seemed to as well. His grip on the wheel tightened and his jaw clenched.

“I left a note. I promise. But it’s not anything I won’t tell you to your face everyday for the rest of our lives. So don’t worry about it, pretty. Okay? I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Rafe.” And I truly meant it.

On the way to the airport we sang along to Taylor Swift songs we both knew. And suddenly the pit in my stomach was slowly being filled with laughter and the way he didn’t even ask me what I wanted when we stopped at McDonald’s.

To be loved it to be seen. And I had to have been invisible to Jackson.

23 MINUTES UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AT THE AIRPORT 11:37 PM

“Flight 237 is now boarding. This is the final call for passengers to LaGuardia Airport.”

Rafe looks at me as we get ready to board the plane.

“You ready?” He sticks out his hand. I smile at him.

“Yeah…I’m ready.” I take his hand and lean up and kiss him as we walk onto the plane.

I glance down at the gold ring on my finger. And I realize no one will ever see me as clearly and perfectly as Rafe sees me. And that’s all I could ask for.

“Hey” he looks back at me. Glancing up from his sports magazine. His brows raised waiting for me to answer.

“I love you.” I continue and smile. His gaze softens and he pulls me into another quick kiss. I hated PDA but I didn’t care. Not with him.

“I love you more than I can even describe.” He pauses before continuing. “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”

I don’t know a lot…but I know I’ve found my person. And everything’s okay. And for the first time in 3 years, 7 months, 4 weeks, and 2 days…I felt like I could breathe.

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 1

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc (MC POV/Sylus-centric POV)

Warnings: Lots of hurt/tiny bit of comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 3517

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I find Sylus easier to write, but all LADs are present. Don't ask me if I'm working through some stuff... I can't say I'm not. This is Pre-Cat Curse. I'll try to do the more comfort, actual communication part sometime soon.

Now Playing: The Foundations of Decay, by My Chemical Romance

Masterlist AO3

Next ->

When you close your eyes it's all you can see. The metal bar through your shoulder. The debris crushing your arm.

You can't feel it anymore.

But you can see it.

You hate Mysts. You hate EVER. You hate that you fucked up and let your guard down. Falling for a trap you're not even sure was for you, or just some fucked up experiment they'd been carrying out with their new toys.

You hate that you woke up changed, you hate that when you'd seen hospital walls you'd expected to see Caleb there like he was throughout your teen years. Or Zayne, clipboard in hand, ready to lecture you on being more careful, on taking care of yourself.

You hate that Jenna sent you home, for the foreseeable future, to recover. To do your stupid physical therapy. To sit at home and stare at yourself in the mirror. Aches and pains and phantoms lurking over your limbs, your shoulder.

You hate having to lock Mephisto out, drawing your curtains. You hate pretending you're not in, whenever Xavier comes knocking. You hate switching off your phone so Rafayel can't contact you.

You hate being this weak, useless creature.

You hate the core in your chest.

You hate what made you like this.

You hate that your instinct is to run away and hide.

A wounded cat in an alleyway, lying down in a corner, hoping the heat of your fur doesn't fade.

Hoping you don't freeze to death where no one thinks to look for you.

You hate that even when you wish someone would find you, only one person ever made sure to look, and he's gone.

You feel like you did when you watched your home disappear into flames, you feel that horrible acrid disgust in your stomach. The feeling that if you could kill what made you feel like this, you'd be alright again. You'd be able to breathe again.

The feeling that dropped you into The Nest with no concern for yourself, just a goal in mind.

The feeling that put you into Sylus' lap, gun in hand, snarling.

You feel like you did when you were told by Dr Noah that there was no cure for what lurked in your heart, that it could kill you, that no one could tell you when.

The feeling that had you abandoning any vision of a future.

The feeling that sat you in front of Caleb, wounds bleeding over his hands, because then you felt something else.

You don't have the name for them, they have been constant companions throughout your life, but you don't even know their names. You're so very tired of them, though. Wishing that they would leave you be, to let something lighter and warmer settle where they once sat.

Choosing your family, however, is often difficult.

The room is dark around you, every curtain drawn, all the lights turned off. Huddling in the corner of your bedroom, blanket wrapped firmly over your body so you can't see. Can't look and see every mottled bruise, every uneven harsh scar, every bloody bandage that you can't bear to change.

The place your arm used to be.

If you look away, if you don't stare at it, if you focus really hard, you can feel it.

You can pretend…

Even if the pain bites at your shoulder.

Even when the medication you can't make yourself take without throwing up, stares at you across the room. Where you'd thrown it in your trembling hand. Limbs so weak, walking aches every step.

You'd fallen to the floor, curled up and stayed.

You think you should be crying, but you can't seem to feel anything other than those old feelings and the pain. Like they're keeping you tethered to this reality. Chains around you, digging into your throat, tearing at soft skin.

Part of you is aware you have to keep moving, if you don't take care of yourself… you'll see Caleb sooner than you should. That he'd be sad that you stopped trying. That moving forwards is important. That there's still good you can do, meaning to be found.

It's the last logical strain of your mind that reminds you people will eventually find you, if you fade to nothing here. That they'll be hurt.

Even worse if it's Tara… Zayne… Xavier… Rafayel… Sylus…

It's only a small voice, easily ignored, in favour of fighting against the chains around your neck. Trying to keep you here, in a world you don't want to be in. In a reality that keeps ripping at you.

So you shrink in on yourself, flinching when you try to tighten a hand you've lost around the soft wool of the blanket, and curl inwards.

It has to get better. Quieter.

It has to.

—-----

Sylus stands outside the apartment door, staring at it. His knocks have gone ignored, his messages unread. Mephisto hasn't been able to even spot a hair on your head. He's not used to not knowing where you are, to not being able to keep track of you. Even if you don't respond, he at least knows if you're safe.

You've made no indication that you don't want him around, ever since that moment you'd rushed across a crossing to demand he never disappear on you, you'd not pushed him away.

He can't think of anything he's done that will have changed that. At least, he's almost sure he hasn't… The idea that he has sinks into his gut, twisting and biting like an agitated snake.

If he's to be devoured by any snake, it needs to be you and your EVOL link.

He's staring at the handle, wondering whether to snap the thing, or break into your security system. There's other hunters in the apartment block, the longer he stands out here the bigger the risk.

Of course, if he's caught breaking in… that would be another thing.

Perhaps if your balcony is unlocked, he can use his EVOL to get to you that way.

Why did he never register himself into your security system before now?

"Oi."

He's surprised that someone could sneak up on him, he's less surprised when he sees the wanted Lemurian standing behind him. Turning, the bright eyed fish is staring, "You here for any particular reason, or are you staring at doors for fun?"

Sylus can read the wariness in his eyes, he knows of your companions, he's got a good database of information about them, this one is the one with the most amount of secrets. Even parts he can't dig up. There's a small flicker of recognition in the fish's eyes as he looks at him, an acknowledgment that means Sylus has been figured out.

Though he doesn't feel a threat from it. There's recognition and then there's being made. Whatever the fish wants, it's nothing to do with him. He wonders if you've talked about him at all.

He wants to test it. "Skye." Hand extended, "I'm looking for the little kitten who lives here."

There's another flicker, and this one he doesn't understand, but it softens the glare a little bit, "Rafayel. So you're that friend of Cuties. I'm here looking for them too." This time his glare turns into a frown, disgruntled, agitated.

There's a lot Sylus can read. The fish, Rafayel, is struggling to balance all the feelings he's drowning with.

"So, have they responded to you at all?"

"No."

The frown on Rafayel's face is familiar, Sylus has seen it in his mirror, after staring at all the unread messages, after finding Mephisto without information yet again.

It's been days, and he knows he can't give you space anymore. While he respects your boundaries, he knows there's always a very real risk you could disappear. It might not always be a conscious choice you make. He doesn't want you dying in an alley alone.

If you're going to die, you're going to die with him, in his arms, with company.

He imagines those around you, feel much the same.

"Me too." This time he does hear the approach. Two sets of footsteps. When he turns, he picks out your hunter partner, and your doctor. The two look frazzled. Like they've run here.

The doctor wipes his forehead, as he looks over at Sylus and Rafayel, he doesn't have the same reaction to him that Rafayel did, but his sharp features are not welcoming. The hunter on the other hand, stops, hand flashing in light, and Sylus gets a jolt of 'danger', before it fades.

Bright blue eyes widen a little bit, and then the hand relaxes, looking at the little crow phone charm dangling from Sylus' phone that sits in his hand. Quiet. Lonely.

"Why are you here?" The edge doesn't leave the hunters voice, but the words are aimed specifically at Sylus.

He lets himself laugh, a huff of air, rather than any real humour, "Now, now Crown Prince. I'm not the enemy. I'm… a friend."

He watches the hand tense, light flickering again, blue sharpening into ice. Ah, Philos. Always did make the most easily tormented creatures.

"Crown Prince?" The doctor turns his head to the hunter, who huffs, turning his head away.

"We have more important things to think about now, don't we?" Sylus offers, somewhat a truce. If he can get to his kitten, he doesn't really care if he has to tolerate the prince. Or the fish… or the doctor with the pretty forest eyes.

There's bigger problems. The door.

The hunter wavers, looking at the door, protective, ready to fight if he has to. Sylus thinks he resembles a knight, more than a prince. Perhaps they all are in some way. Rushing to the door of their reckless little hunter.

"Are you-"

"Friends." Sylus interrupts the doctor, "Skye."

"Rafayel."

The prince stays quiet, introductions clearly done in the past.

The doctor nods, "Zayne, I've heard of you all. Very well." He indicates the files he's holding, "We have returned from the Association. They were injured in the line of duty, they were sent to a specialist, and have since returned and been taken off active duty until they have fully recovered."

Injured.

Taken off active duty.

Sylus tries to take the information in, but he gets distracted by the tense line of the doctor's jaw.

"You're angry."

The doctor blinks, turning his head away a little, "I don't know what you mean."

Rafayel peeks over, head tilted, "I'd be angry too, if as their doctor, cutie didn't come to me."

Ah, he watches Zayne glare at the fish, before he straightens himself out, so that's it. The doctor feels unwanted.

Helpless.

Sylus is familiar with the feeling, even if he hates it. He has to defeat it. He has to make sure this does not happen again.

"Well, best go greet kitten then."

He hears someone mutter, "Kitten?" behind him, but he's buoyed by the information that his kitten isn't just running away from him needlessly. You need help, you need support. You're hurt.

So he reaches over to the security lock on your door, and with his EVOL, crushes it inside out. Pushing the door open.

"Well shit." The fish speaks, "You really are him, huh?"

"The one and only, fish." Sylus shoots back, but doesn't stop. Pushing through the door and entering the apartment.

He makes a note to fix your door as soon as this is over.

It's no surprise Mephisto can't see you, the place is dark. His eyes flicker around the room, he hears the doctor knock into something, and the prince uses his EVOL to give them a floating star to illuminate.

Sylus feels like he should be making notes, these people are the closest people to his kitten, other than the other hunters you're closest to. Every bit of information he has about you, builds that puzzle up, but he notices blood on the floor.

Bandages torn and ripped.

Things knocked off sides, scattered to the floor.

"Cutie?" The fishes voice rises in concern, moving ahead of them, to walk over to the bedroom.

There's a twitch to Sylus' fingers that is unfamiliar. Fear making his EVOL flicker and flare, ready. He thinks it's close to fury.

Whoever did this, he'll find, and he'll make sure they can never do it again.

When they enter the bedroom, you're there. Curled on your side, blanket soaked through with sweat and blood. Eyes flickering around you weakly. Zayne stops walking, picking up a prosthetic from where it's been thrown across the room. Hands shaking as he turns it, then turns his gaze back to you.

Sylus is hard to throw off, he's not used to seeing you hurting. You have often hidden your wounds from him, he's always had to follow you, or chase you down to be there when you need a hand. You push him away if he gives you the choice, when it comes to support. You fiercely lick your own wounds, and pretend you're fine.

He remembers the snarl in your throat when you pressed a gun to his head, demanding absolution and justice for the death of those you cared about.

Despite his aching heart for the way you hissed 'Monster' at him, your fire was always delicious to taste. Even if it scorched his mouth.

You were never this. This small, shivering kitten, huddling further away from him when he steps forwards. A hurt, broken mewl out of your mouth.

The light flicks on, and you cry out, covering yourself fully with the blanket. Struggling in the process.

It gives him a chance to really take everything in, and he wishes the light had stayed off.

A bloody handprint is on the floor, before it drags away, like a claw. There are old bandages, caked in blood and dried up, around you. Medication packets thrown across the room. Your blanket is dirty and the smell indicates you haven't moved, or showered, or done anything but ache and bleed.

He wants to approach you, but the shivering… he looks at the doctor, "Do something." His voice isn't as hard as he wants it to be, it's fragile and… weak, and he doesn't want it to be weak. He needs to be strong, he has to be strong. You need him to be strong.

Zayne doesn't need urging, he approaches you carefully, a hand settles gently on your blanketed form. You jerk away, a dry sob ripping its way out of your misused voice.

"Darling. Come on, let me see."

Rafayel and Xavier hover on the edges. Sylus thinks he might look like them. Unsure, worried, trembling. Fear in their gut.

So this is what love can do, when it hurts.

You always bring new things into his life, he just wishes it was not at your expense.

At your pain.

Sylus grabs the prince's wrist, "Come."

Xavier tenses, but nods stiffly, following him. Rafayel looks at you, as Zayne coaxes you from the blanket to check on you, and though his feet struggle to move, he follows as well.

When he has led them into another room, he begins to pick things up off the floor. "Help me." He doesn't offer anything else, this is too much even for him. He doesn't want to open his feelings up to them, no matter how important they are to you. He needs to do something, though, and until he can get information out of you, he can't deal with who hurt you.

He can't do what he wants to do. Bleed, and rip, and tear, and destroy.

He can't burn whatever touched you.

Sylus is relieved when they follow him, the hunter knows where things are in your home. The fish busies himself with looking through your fridge for anything that past its best by date. He doesn't find anything, so orders from his phone.

They have to eat, he'd muttered to himself.

Sylus has never heard a siren's voice break before.

He wonders if you sound as beautiful when you cry, and let him hear.

The cleaning is methodical, though the scent of your blood doesn't ease away. He has to open a window, to air the place out, before it stops suffocating him. He's irritated by the hunger it incites in his stomach. Like he wants to bury his face into the bloody bandages and taste them.

A feeling of greed and hunger he doesn't seem able to fully get rid of. No matter how much he wants to need you in every other way than this.

When food arrives, Rafayel takes it into the kitchen, easing himself into cooking basic fish soup. The smell replaces the scent of blood, and Sylus can breathe easier.

While the fish and the prince are busy, and the worst of the mess is cleaned. Including broken shards of glass, and smashed photo frames. Sylus walks closer to the bedroom. He wants to just clean up the mess in there, so you can exist, and not see blood everywhere. Instead, he finds you, blanket pulled down, while the doctor wipes blood from around your shoulder.

His feet pause, and he meets your mismatched eyes. Scars ripping through the side of your face.

"Kitten." He exhales, and watches as you flinch, trying to bury yourself back in the blanket. The doctor takes your face in his hands, breathes with you, and soothes the hackles rising.

"It's alright."

"Don't look." You croak out, pleading at Sylus, both of them. Begging them not to see you.

He sighs, and he approaches, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to take your one. Soothing the flinch, the hair raising, with a steady pressure of his thumb against your skin. "Now kitten, I always want to look at you. You know that."

Your eyes glisten with tears, before you look back at Zayne, sniffling through the pain, "Hurts."

The doctor nods, "I'll need to resuture some of your wounds, I brought my tools with me, but you will need to go back into the hospital for checkups." When you try to pull away, both he and Zayne keep a handle on you. So you can't escape, so you can't fall back. So you can't stumble.

"You also need to start your therapy, if you avoid it, you will struggle even more."

"No." You snap, biting at the bit. Sylus thinks if you had a dragon's teeth, you'd sharpen them against their flesh. "I don't want it, I don't need it."

"You do need it." The doctor's brow furrows, frustration coming through his face. At himself? At you? At this situation? Sylus' couldn't tell, maybe all of it. "You need to take care of yourself."

They're both surprised when you hiccup, when your sob lets itself out. When you fall forwards. He watches your shoulder flinch, and your hand pulls out of his to cover your face, and you shatter.

Sobbings, breaking, choking on air.

He isn't sure what he's supposed to do, but he doesn't get much time to think. You're pulled forward by the doctor, into both of their arms, due to how close they are. His arm hooks around you, balancing you, so they both can hold you. The smell of blood tickles his nose again, but this time, he buries his nose in your neck. You smell like they've pulled you back from decaying, and it hurts the heart he gave to you so many years ago.

Eventually you settle, breathing again for them, fingers trembling where your hand is trapped between their bodies.

When you pull away, tears have streaked down your face, smearing dirt across your cheeks. Zayne reaches his hand out to wipe away some of it, but he lets out a soft sigh, "We need to get you cleaned up so I can take care of you."

Your eyes downcast, staring at the floor. You look ashamed, and it bites at Sylus' heels, so he presses a kiss against your cheek. Which makes the look morph to shock. "We can get the fish if that helps, I'm sure he'll make sure you don't drown."

The nod is weak, tired and worn, even though he watches your eyes flicker to your wounds, to your shoulder, back to him. Like you're realising it means someone else seeing you.

He wishes you'd see yourself the way he sees you. The way he can tell the doctor sees you. The way he's sure the prince and the fish see you.

It's not enough to tell you, though, you have to learn it yourself. So he stands, stopping momentarily when your hand tightens against his shirt, eyes widening. He watches the scar tissue tug, he watches the hand tremble where its grasping him. So he puts his over it, "I'm not leaving, kitten. When you're clean, when you're stitched back up, we'll talk, and eat. Alright?"

Sylus feels the heat settle around his heart, like your hand is holding it, when you nod. A tiny bit of fire returning to you.

To the tenacious light of your eyes.

[buttercandy16]

The Bully

PAIRING(s): DarkStudent!Agatha Harkness x Student!Reader

SUMMARY: Agatha Harkness, a senior, takes pleasure in tormenting you, her shy junior. As the bullying escalates, you can’t shake the feeling that there's more to her cruelty than just power.

WARNING(s): Non-Con, Bullying, Obsession, Psychological Abuse, Manipulation, Violence, Harassment, Power Dynamics, Dark Themes.

A/N: Gotta admit this is twisted. Better not proceed if this is not your cup of tea.

The first day of junior year was supposed to be a fresh start. It was supposed to be a time for you to blend in with the crowd, get through the year unnoticed, and maybe—just maybe—feel like you belonged somewhere.

But that dream was shattered the moment Agatha Harkness laid her eyes on you.

Agatha was not the typical queen bee of the school—she didn’t just command attention; she demanded it. Beautiful in a way that made you feel invisible by comparison, her striking blue eyes had a chilling coldness to them, as if they could see right through you. She moved through the halls like a predator stalking its prey, her every step deliberate, her smile a weapon that made even the strongest students quake in their boots.

You? You were nothing special. You were shy, quiet, the kind of person who tried to stay out of the spotlight. But Agatha, in her twisted mind, saw you. From that moment, you became her target.

And Agatha was relentless.

At first, Agatha’s bullying was subtle. A misplaced book here, a whispered insult there. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just part of the high school experience. But the problem was, Agatha didn’t stop. She enjoyed it.

You’d be walking down the hallway, and Agatha’s friends would bump into you on purpose, sending your books scattering across the floor. The laughter that followed was always louder than necessary. Her voice would ring out from behind you, sharp and mocking, “Watch where you’re going, loser.”

She’d whisper just loud enough for the people around you to hear during group assignments: “She doesn’t even belong here. Do you know how pathetic you look?” The others would laugh, and you would shrink in your seat, staring at your half-eaten meal, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. The words stung, but the sneers from the others—the agreement in their faces—cut deeper.

On one memorable occasion, she ensured your diary ended up projected on the screen in homeroom. Every scribbled insecurity, every desperate wish for normalcy, displayed to the class as Agatha read from it aloud, her voice dripping with mockery.

"Oh, look! 'I hope someone notices me.' How sweet! Everyone's noticing you now."

You begged her to stop, choking back sobs as laughter roared around you. Agatha didn’t relent. She wasn’t just enjoying your misery; she was feeding on it.

But Agatha was only getting started.

By the time the second month of school rolled around, Agatha’s cruel games had become a daily torture. Every corner you turned, there she was—either waiting for you or making sure you felt her presence.

One day in the cafeteria, you sat with your tray, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in your stomach. As you picked up your fork, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Before you could react, Agatha’s voice pierced through the noise of the cafeteria. “Hey, loser, don’t forget your real place.”

Suddenly, her drink—what had to be an entire cup of soda—was poured over your head. The sticky liquid dripped down your face, soaking your hair and clothes, as the entire cafeteria erupted in laughter.

“Smile for me, sweetheart,” she purred as you cried, leaning in close enough for you to smell her faint lavender perfume. “You look so pretty when you break.”

Your throat burned with the urge to scream, but you couldn’t make a sound. The laughter of your classmates filled your ears, drowning out everything else.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, frozen, drenched in humiliation. All you could do was stare at your hands, your fingers trembling while you silently cried.

But what terrified you most wasn’t the public bullying or even the physical taunts. It was how she stared when no one was looking.

Agatha watched you.

Her blue eyes followed you down corridors, across the cafeteria, and into the deepest parts of your nightmares. Sometimes you’d catch her in the distance, leaning against a wall, smirking as you tripped under her latest setup. But sometimes, you’d find her lurking nearby, standing too close, leaning too near, the edge of her voice dropping into something soft and intimate.

“You’ll thank me one day,” she murmured once, brushing an invisible strand of hair from your shoulder as you flinched back. “When you realize I’m the only one who cares enough to notice you.”

Over the next few weeks, the bullying turned sadistic. It wasn’t just about humiliating you anymore; Agatha wanted to break you. She wanted to make you feel like you didn’t belong. She wanted you to feel the weight of her presence crushing you every single day.

Your clothes were slashed—deliberately, carefully, the marks too precise to be an accident.

Your locker was spray-painted with cruel words. “Ugly” was the least of them. “Slut,” “Worthless,” “No one will ever love you,” the words taunted as you opened it.

Every time you tried to stand up for yourself, Agatha was there, sneering. “What? You think you have any power here? Look around you. No one cares about you. You’re nothing.”

You felt broken. Every day you woke up, dreading the thought of facing her. But you couldn’t escape. You couldn’t run.

By mid-semester, you were unraveling. Your grades slipped, and you stopped attending events. The weight of constant ridicule hung over you like a storm cloud.

You stopped eating, stopped sleeping. You stared at the ceiling at night, wondering if it was worth getting up in the morning.

She had you exactly where she wanted you

When Clara transferred to your school, you thought you’d found salvation. Clara wasn’t afraid to sit with you, to stand between you and the others who Agatha had rallied to her side. For the first time, you felt seen in a way that didn’t break you.

But the price of Clara’s kindness was high. Agatha hated her with a fervor you’d never seen before.

Agatha was watching, always watching. The moment she saw you with Clara, a new kind of fire ignited in her cold eyes. She was jealous. Jealous of Clara’s ability to make you smile, to make you forget for just a second the hell you lived in.

Clara’s presence only intensified Agatha’s cruelty. She started targeting Clara, too, making her life as miserable as she made yours. 

And Agatha enjoyed every second of it.

It started with petty taunts. Clara’s appearance, her laugh—nothing was off-limits. But Agatha’s rage simmered just under the surface.

Then Clara’s locker was defaced. “Homewrecker” was scrawled across it in angry red paint.

When Clara found her gym bag shredded and her phone destroyed in the cafeteria, Agatha’s smug grin was all you needed to see.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Clara finally snapped one afternoon, shoving past Agatha in the hallway. You’d never seen her stand up to Agatha like that.

But that was the mistake.

Agatha didn’t respond. She simply stared, a storm brewing in her eyes.

The day it all shattered was an ordinary one—or so you thought. The cafeteria buzzed with its usual noise, students laughing, trading whispers, and tossing food across tables. You sat with Clara, your head low, desperate to avoid Agatha’s gaze.

But the room stilled the moment she walked in.

Agatha’s steps were slow, deliberate, every student shrinking back as she passed. You could feel the heat of her stare long before she reached your table.

“Move,” she snapped at Clara, her voice like steel.

Clara squared her shoulders, her hand trembling on the table. “I’m not going anywhere.”

What happened next was a blur. Agatha grabbed Clara by the hair, yanking her from her seat and dragging her to the center of the cafeteria. The screams echoed in your ears.

The students gathered in a horrified semi-circle as Agatha pulled out a blade. She pressed it to Clara’s neck, her voice eerily calm.

“She’s mine,” Agatha said, her eyes finding yours as she tightened her grip on Clara’s hair. “You’re mine. No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to love you.”

“Stop it!” you screamed, rushing to pull Agatha away.

There was no cruelty in her gaze—only desperation.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I had to make you see me.”

Her confession twisted something inside you—a sick, horrifying realization that the torment, the humiliation, all of it, had been her twisted way of keeping you close.

You choked on a sob, unable to respond, unable to comprehend the scene unfolding before you.

Then, with a deliberate motion, Agatha sliced a thin line across Clara’s cheek—not deep enough to do permanent damage but enough to draw blood. Clara screamed, struggling against her hold.

“Do you see now?” Agatha’s voice broke, her obsessive rage bleeding into desperation. “No one can have you but me!”

She threw Clara to the floor, letting the crowd scatter like flies as she advanced toward you. Blood smeared across her hand as she reached out, grabbing your wrist in a viselike grip.

“You don’t need anyone else,” she whispered, her eyes wild and glistening with something raw and unhinged. “Say it.”

The room seemed to spin as her breath brushed your ear. “Say you’re mine.”

Tears streamed down your face as the truth—her obsession—finally clicked into place. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t even hate. It was something darker, more consuming, and far more terrifying.

When you didn’t answer, Agatha’s grip tightened, her nails biting into your skin.

“You don’t have a choice,” she hissed. “You’ve always been mine.”

The cafeteria ringing with the chaotic noise around you, the violent energy from Agatha and the blood that painted the scene still pulsating in your veins. The sight of Clara’s blood streaking down her face mingled with the stares of students who had no idea whether to intervene or stare in utter terror. Some stared, captivated by the violent outburst, while others simply backed away, knowing better than to involve themselves.

Agatha’s pupils dilated in sheer madness, her smirk was full of an almost palpable hunger that gnawed at you, making you feel nauseous. Her fingers were still stained with Clara’s blood. "That was your fault, you know," she purred. "If you hadn’t pulled Clara into this, you would still be mine alone.”

The air felt thick with dread and something darker—a possessive heat, almost sexual in its intensity. Agatha's voice was lower now, dripping with an edge that made every word feel like a knife twisting into your heart.

“Isn’t that right?” she whispered.Her body pressed up against yours, no longer the cruel manipulator, but the woman possessed, desperate, and incapable of understanding love beyond her twisted perception of ownership.

You couldn’t breathe. Your throat felt like it was closing up as Agatha continued, undeterred, making the space between you feel suffocating.

“You think you can escape me?” Agatha’s hand caressed your cheek—deliberate, slow—and then, before you had a chance to react, she forced her lips onto yours in a searing, aggressive kiss. The cold edge of the blade still gleamed in her fingers, pressing against the soft, trembling skin of your neck. She was testing your limits, consuming you.

“You belong to me. You’ll always belong to me,” she whispered against your lips as you tried to pull back, your body repulsing the contact, but Agatha wasn’t giving you an escape. She was insistent. Every inch of her energy radiated possessiveness and torment. It was unbearable—her grip tightened on you, suffocating all sense of resistance you had.

The pain inside you deepened, like your very identity was being ripped apart.

Her teeth scraped against your bottom lip, drawing a whimper from you that only seemed to fuel her hunger. The blade pressed harder, a silent threat that kept you frozen in place as her other hand slid down your body, rough and possessive. She didn’t care that the entire cafeteria was watching, that Clara was bleeding on the floor, that you were trembling in her grasp. All that mattered was her need to dominate, to own you completely.

Her fingers found the hem of your shirt, yanking it up with a force that made you gasp. The cold air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her touch as she groped your chest, her nails digging into your flesh. “You think you can hide from me?” she sneered, her breath hot against your ear. “You think anyone else can touch you like this?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you tried to push her away, but she was too strong. Her hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, Agatha, don’t—”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her fingers pressing against you, rough and unyielding. “You don’t get to say no to me. You’re mine, and I’ll take what’s mine whenever I want.”

Her touch was cruel, deliberate, designed to hurt as much as it was to claim. You bit your lip to stifle a cry, but she didn’t miss the way your body shuddered under her hand. “That’s it,” she purred, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “You can’t hide how much you want this. How much you need me.”

You wanted to scream, to fight back, but the blade at your throat kept you still, your body betraying you as she worked you with ruthless precision. The room spun around you, the sounds of the cafeteria fading into a distant hum as Agatha’s touch consumed you. Her breath was hot against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as she whispered, “You’ll never escape me. Never.”

Her fingers moved faster, harder, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, a sound that only seemed to fuel her frenzy. “That’s it,” she growled, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Let them all see how much you belong to me.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the world, but it was impossible. The feel of her, the smell of her, the sound of her voice—it was everywhere, consuming you, breaking you. And when she finally pulled her hand away, leaving you trembling and exposed, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “This is just the beginning. I’m not done with you yet.”

The blade disappeared from your neck, but the threat lingered, heavy and unspoken. Agatha stepped back, her eyes blazing with a dark, possessive hunger.

The weight of her command rolling off her tongue with the kind of authority that made the room shrink.

"All of you. Leave," she said, her voice low but biting. The onlookers flinched, uncertainty flickering in their wide eyes as they shifted nervously. "And let me make this clear—what you saw here today? You saw nothing. Speak of it, and I'll remind you why that blade was mine to wield."

The tension was suffocating. One by one, the witnesses filed out, not daring to meet her gaze. Some stumbled in their haste to flee, boots clattering against the stone floor, even Clara followed along but Agatha didn’t seem to care. Her focus remained fixed entirely on you.

When the last of them had gone and the room was swallowed by silence, she turned her full attention back to you. Her lips curled into something too satisfied to be called a smile, yet not quite sinister enough to be a smirk. It was the look of someone who had just claimed exactly what they wanted—someone who knew the gravity of what they’d done and reveled in it.

Her presence was all-consuming. She didn’t move closer, didn’t speak, but the air between you still bristled with the weight of unspoken things. The blade was gone, yet its absence almost felt worse—like the void it left was filled with something sharper, heavier.

Agatha tilted her head, studying you, as if relishing how small and cornered she’d made you feel. Then, finally, she broke the silence.

"You're mine now," she murmured, her voice silky and unyielding. "And you’ll come to understand—I always get what I want."

Her gaze lingered a moment longer, searing into yours, before she turned away, leaving the room heavy with the remnants of her presence.

_-_-_

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[kdgts---zooperz]

Hmm huh. HMM. those seem to be different things. They're certainly different letters. Call me crazy, but I don't think Punkitt's saying all women need to get into a stranger's car if asked. Do you inherently trust everyone who isn't a man? because i doubt that. that's crazy.

If someone says "Oh, its okay I'm racist, I have a good reason" does that... make it okay? We all have biases. Maybe you've been burned by the same kind of person over and over: men, asians, white people. and honestly? removing biases take time. feeling tense might not be avoidable, I certainly couldn't avoid the feeling. but you should understand that you shouldn't avoid-let ALONE treat someone poorly-based on a person's race, gender, disabilities, religion, ethnicity, background, relationship status, genetics, and, much much more.

It's okay i'm sexist, i have a good reason. does not exist. There is no good reason to discriminate against a group of people. Look, the Human brain is really REALLY good at making connections. you ARE going to feel a bias form after that, lets say, the third time in a week someone in full clown make-up and clothes beats you with an iron pipe. "Clown's make me uneasy" yeah. sure that makes sense. "I am not going to go to the circus" makes sense. "I'm going to avoid a clown if i see them in the store" a bit distrustful, but if its only been a month or so i guess "I think all clowns are inherently evil and i wish harm upon them" Okay you see how that's different? how that's crossing the line? I don't know exactly what punkitt was saying. I assume the message is "you shouldn't be sexist" which is uhh, not conversational?

I don't know about the other girls out there? but yeah. a man-sexist would make me feel unsafe. because what, all of those unchecked, encouraged, biases just went away when i told her im a transwoman, not a man?

HATE is HOSTILITY, by definition. so uhh, are y'all really gonna still defend your right to harass people solely on the basis of gender? "That's not what i meant at all!" Then fucking READ BETTER, I don't know what to tell you.

It's okay for me to discriminate against people on a large scale, a few people from those group did some very bad things to me. you know who else thought like that? pretty much everyone who's ever given the order to kill civilians on a large scale.

discrimination can never be okay. NEVER jeez... --AND IF THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU, IT ISN'T ABOUT YOU??!!??! I've suddenly seen so many people make this about them and then defened that it isn't- or outright say that there arn't people who outright HATE all men? okay. cool. then this post isn't for you??????????????????? Least im learning of people to block i thought were cool.

transgender women who have an irrational hatred of men you GOTTA get over that. Come on now

[nonranghaes]

your back presses against brick as you try to catch your breath, chest tightening with each second. everything in life seems to be crashing down onto you at full force, and hot tears run down your cheeks as you try to ground yourself again. all it takes is your knees buckling for you to drop down to the ground, hands covering your head as you squeeze your eyes shut. you need to calm down, you tell yourself, but it's hard. it's hard when you're forcibly face to face with someone from your past again. it's hard when your job sucks, when you need to find a new, cheaper apartment to move to soon, when your friends seem to either refuse to understand how hard it is or decide you aren't worth that effort.

the words fall out of your mouth before you can process them, "i wish i could just disappear."

"oh, you do, hm?"

your head snaps up to see a man standing just out of your reach, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long overcoat. he smiles at you just a little, raising a single hand to wave at you before tucking it away again. this man... he's not human. the strange glint in his eyes tells you that, but that smile reveals his fangs just a little. he's a vampire, and he's found you, and suddenly all of the scary stories you've been fed (by your parents, by your neighbors, by everyone) seem to come to mind all too easily.

"sorry." he shifts his weight from leg to leg. "couldn't help but hear."

i'll scream, you want to say. i'll run. someone will hear me. but you don't move. if he just wanted an easy meal, he would have already attacked you. no one else is around to see it. either he's playing with you, or...

he takes a step toward you, and crouches down. "i was like this once, y'know." he reaches forward, and you shrink away, but he doesn't stop. he just wipes one of your cheeks of tears with his thumb, dragging it against his pants again before he just stays there in front of you. watching. waiting. "a lot of my friends were. you could come stay with us." he pauses, offering his hand to you, "i mean, you'll have to work a little--but if you really want an escape--"

"i do." if this is the end of you, then so be it. it's reckless, and stupid, and maybe you'll really disappear if you agree to it--but what's still here in the city? a shit job with coworkers that look down on you every time you slip up even the tiniest bit? people who stop caring when it's convenient?

he asks if you're sure. you just take his hand instead, and disappear into the night with him.

[bunnithechubs]

looks like i'm about to change your life.

transcript:

W: I will show you to your table, Mr. SIlas. V: Thank you, so sorry for being late. W: It is no problem. R: So what is this place? V: It’s called Tower, been here once with my dad. I think you’ll like it. R: You’ve never brought another girl here? V: Never. Just pops and now you. I plan on bringing you to a lot of nice spots in the city.

R: That’s if I let you. V: leans in and whispers I think after our little delay in your apartment, you’ll be letting me see you more. R: Just because I let you make out with me doesn’t mean I like you enough for a second date, let alone a third. V: I’m taking you on more dates. R: What if I want to date someone else? V: I can fight. R: You’d fight someone I went on a date with? V: I’d fight any man for you.

R: You really got us a private room? V: I wanted privacy with you. Sometimes the fans like to overstep. R: I don’t mind. V: I figured you wouldn’t but I’m focused on enjoying dinner with you. See anything you like? R: Oh, I’m order the most expensive thing on here. V: chuckles Trying to run my pockets dry, huh? R: Dating me isn’t for the faint hearted.

V: So you admit it, we’re dating. R: Are we not on a date? V: There is a difference between dating and being on a date. There’s a certain exclusivity with dating. R: According to the tabloids you’re not into exclusivity. V: I’m not, but for you? I want you all to myself. R: Do you think I believe that? V: No, but I plan on proving it. I’ll do whatever you want to me, destroy me if you like. As long as your mine.

R: Well if you’re going to date me I need a few things from you. V: Name them. R: Your location at all times, social media, and bank accounts. V: Done. I’ll even throw in the cameras at my apartment. R: I won’t look at them, but if you give me reason to and I find something I don’t like I will make your life a living hell. Understood? V: Completely. R: That’s it? You’re not going to ask for anything?

V: Nope, I just want you to be my girlfriend. R: You’re not worried I would cheat on you? I mean my dms are like a warzone of thirsty richer men. V: Are you letting any of them take you on dates? R: No. V: Then we’re good. Trust me, you won’t be thinking of them any more. I plan on keeping you completely satisfied. R: I look forward to that. V: Let’s eat- I want to show you somewhere before we go.

R: This is nice. V: You’re not too cold being out here? I can give you my jacket. R: The champagne has me pretty warm. I’ll let you know if that changes. V: Alright, you know in any light you look beautiful but right now I think you might be the most beautiful person in the world. R: Ass kissing doesn’t win me over. V: I’m not ass kissing, I’m telling you the truth. R: I think you’re drunk.

V: Not even the slightest bit tipsy. R: So you’re naturally a sweet talker, better watch your mouth when I’m not around. V: You do know I work with only men? R: You act like you don’t go out. V: I’m only going out with you or if you let me. R: I won’t be letting you go out without me. V: I wasn’t planning on it.

R: I want you take me home now. V: Your wish is my command.

V: I’m guessing I did a good job tonight then, huh? A nice dinner and even got you to admit we’re dating? R: You did better than expected- yes. V: So are you going to follow through with your comment from earlier? R: Letting you find out what’s underneath my dress? I think you can figure it out. I’m not wearing anything.

V: You’re killing me, Reina. R: Don’t worry I make good on my word. You get the gift of tasting me- but that's all. Your pants stay on. Got it? V: Whatever you say, Reina. R: Good, now help me out of this dress. V: Happily.

[antinousletmehit]

oooh can i have an odysseus one shot? with a reader who kinda really fawns over him (i’m obsessed with him rn)

୨୧┇Paring: Odysseus x reader

୨୧┇note: finding the banners for this actually humbled me

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

You had been scrubbing the deck for what felt like hours, trying desperately to keep your mind occupied. It was hard to focus when Odysseus, the clever and infuriatingly handsome captain, was right there leaning against the mast, carefully barking out orders to the crew. The sun glinted off of his bronze skin and his dark chestnut curls. Every time he moved his commanding presence drew your attention, even though you were trying very hard not to stare.

Unfortunately for you, Odysseus was no fool.

“Are you planning to scrub a hole through the deck or are you just hiding from me?” His sudden teasing voice startled you, making you nearly drop the bucket of water you’d been holding. You turned to find him standing just behind you, arms crossed with that trademark smirk on his face. Your heart immediately started racing, and you fumbled for words.

“C-Captain! I—uh—wasn’t hiding,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the bucket.

“Oh?” he said, stepping closer. “Because it sure looks like you’re trying to keep your distance from me.”

“I’m not!” you protested, your voice a little too loud. You winced at how obvious you sounded. Odysseus chuckled, crouching down to your level. “Relax, I’m not angry. But you do seem to get… nervous around me.” You felt your cheeks burning. “I-I don’t… I mean, I just…” He leaned in slightly, his grin growing. “You’re awfully ruby for someone who claims they’re not nervous.” You groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always do this to me?”

“Do what?” he asked innocently, though the amusement in his voice was clear.

“Mess with me,” you muttered, peeking at him through your fingers. He laughed, sitting back on his heels. “Because you’re fun to mess with. You’re so earnest, so easy to fluster. It’s… endearing.” You blinked, lowering your hands. “Endearing?”

Odysseus nodded, his tone softer now. “Yes. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re always watching me when you think I’m not looking.” Your jaw dropped. “I-I don’t—!”

“Don’t deny it,” he interrupted, his smirk returning. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like I’m some kind of hero out of a poet’s tale.” You buried your face in your hands again, wishing the ocean would swallow you whole it did a few songs later. “I wasn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I’m flattered, really. And… I wouldn’t say I mind the attention.” You peeked at him again, your heart hammering in your chest. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” he replied, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was light, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “In fact, I think it’s… charming.” You stared at him, your mind racing. Was he teasing you again, or was he being serious? It was impossible to tell with him. Before you could say anything, he stood up, offering you his hand. “Come on, take a break. The deck’s clean enough.”

You hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. “I-I don’t need a break.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he said, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. Reluctantly, you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. His grip was warm and steady, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased, still holding your hand.

You looked away, trying to hide your blush. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still can’t keep your eyes off me,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze intense. You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. He chuckled, giving your hand a small squeeze before letting go. “Don’t work too hard,” he said, turning to walk away. “And don’t worry I’ll try not to make teasing you a daily habit.”

You watched him go, your heart still racing. Somehow, you doubted he’d keep that promise.

[pupcherub]

1/ which category of alterhumanity do you belong to ?

therian , fictionkin , and otherkin <3

2/ what / who is / are your type(s) ? ( if you have any )

feline + mustelidae + canine + reptile , fictions are listed in my pinned , and im also an angelkin !

3/ do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift ( if you've ever had a cameo shift ) ?

i don’t know what a cameo shift is </3 srry ! but i have mental shifts quite often , phantom tail + fang shifts , and wing shifts ^_^

4/ how do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life ?

i just am . there’s nothing specific i do to accommodate for my alterhumanity ( though i would like a [ safe ] taxidermy tail >_< ) . i just live life and i am a little creachure :3c

5/ what do you think of the community ?

besides my enemies (/j) i am pretty okey with it ! i am not too involved , so it’s hard to say :p

6/ what are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity ?

drawing my theriotpyes / angel kintype , as well as dressing in colors / outfits that remind me of my types ! again — i wish i had a safely taxidermied tail :(

7/ are you experiencing species dysphoria ?

YES .

8/ what advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened ?

be yourself , be safe !

9/ do you have / want to have gears ?

t , , , tail . also ears ! ( <- things i want ) , i have a mask for my sled dog theriotype , and i am going to make a sea otter mask soon as well :3

10/ do you know / have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity ? If so, tell us! ( all beliefs are legitimate )

some reincarnation , but also psychologically i am my types ^_^

11/ tag someone/a creature to answer these questions !

@fangsinyourheart

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I'm Not That Girl ~ Bucky's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

40's!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,140ish

Request:  hi lovely!! i hope you're doing well! can i request 40s!bucky with i'm not that girl?  i love wicked sm haha i've seen it three times on broadway and am going to see the movie again once finals are over

Warning(s): unrequited love

“Hands touch, eyes meet

Sudden silence, sudden heat

Hearts leap in a giddy whirl

He could be that boy

But I’m not that girl”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor. His smile was as big as ever, causing his eyes to shine and making you feel so lucky to be so close to him. If only you could always be this close to him.

“Come on, doll!” Bucky laughed. “Don’t make me to all the work!”

You smiled and began pulling your weight in the dance. Though the dance hall was crowded, it felt like it was just two of you. Almost anytime you spent with Bucky felt like that. The world around you both was silent and still, allowing you to lean too much into your heart.

“She’s here!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes locked on the entrance of the dance hall. “Y/N, she’s here!”

Your heart fell as he let you go and headed straight for the woman who held his heart. Dot.

“Don’t dream too far

Don’t lose sight of who you are

Don’t remember that rush of joy

He could be that boy

I’m not that girl”

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted with that smile heart-stopping smile. 

“Hey, Buck,” you responded. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a guy stop by to see his best girl?”

Best girl. You always felt joy when he called you that, causing you to push aside the true meaning of that title. You weren’t truly his best girl, but his best friend aside from Steve. 

“Plus, I need to talk to you,” he continued, stepping into your apartment. “I need some advice about Dot.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You took a deep breath as you closed the door, trying to reign in your emotions.

“I think I love her.”

Your hand fell from the handle of the door as your heart shattered. “Oh?” You turned around and headed into the kitchen to fix up a snack. You needed to focus on something else right now or you were going to lose it in front of Bucky.

“Yeah. She’s perfect, doll. Like… the best thing that’s every happened to me.”

“That’s great, Buck. What advice to you need?”

“I need to know how to tell her. How do I tell her that I love her? Do I get flowers? Tell her while dancing? Take her out to a fancy dinner—“

“Just tell her, Buck. No frills. If she loves you back, she just wants to know you love her. That’s all she cares about.”

“You think?”

You sighed. “I know."

“Every so often we long to steal

To the land of what-might-have-been

But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel

When reality sets back in”

Your dreams were the only place that the wishes of your heart came true. Bucky chose you. Bucky loved you. You were truly his best girl.

But then you would wake and remember the truth. Bucky loved Dot and Dot loved him. You were just someone in his life, for now.

It was the early morning and you had just woken up from one of your dreams when a knock sounded at your apartment door. When great caution, you went over and opened it. You were surprised to find Bucky standing on the other side. But even more surprised to find him in military uniform.

“Bucky?” You questioned. “What’s going on? What are you wearing?”

“I know that I should have told you sooner, doll,” Bucky’s voice was laced with guilt. “But I didn’t know how… I’m shipping out to England.”

“What? When?”

“Now.”

There was no point in stopping the tears.

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry,” he pled as he stepped closer, his hands coming up to hold your face. “You know I can’t stand to see my best girl cry.”

“You should’ve told me sooner,” you cried. “I deserved to know.”

“I know, I know… I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t.”

He gave you a sad smile. “Can’t do that, doll. But… you can come see me off. I would really love it if my best girl was there.”

“Blithe smile, lithe limb

She who’s winsome, she wins him

Gold hair with a gentle curl

That’s the girl he chose

And Heaven knows

I’m not that girl”

Dot was sobbing as Bucky held her close. You and Steve stood to the side, watching the scene as military personal hurried around the shipyard. Other goodbyes were happening around you, almost allowing the scent of tears to fill the area. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve whispered. He was the only one who knew of your feelings. He had figured them out just by watching you.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes on the couple. “I always knew that I wasn’t Bucky’s type.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Steve. I really don’t want it.”

Your heart clenched as Bucky brushed Dot’s golden hair from her face and gave her a kiss. A stray tear slipped down your face and you quickly wiped it away.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, turning around.

“Y/N!” Steve tried to keep you there, but you weaved through the crowd before he could.

“Don’t wish, don’t start

Wishing only wounds the heart

I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl

There’s a girl I know

He loves her so”

You hoped that Bucky would write to you, but he never did. You heard that Dot was receiving letters and small gifts. Pressed flowers, poems, drawings, and a small pearl. Every time you got an update from Steve about Bucky it was due to his letters to Dot. It only hurt you further.

One day, Dot showed up at your apartment. You were curious and allowed her to come in.

“Bucky asked me to keep this a secret,” Dot explained as she seated herself on the couch. “But I know he didn’t keep any secrets from you and I just had to tell someone!”

“About what?” You questioned.

“Bucky sent a pearl in his latest letter. With the pearl, he asked me to marry him.” And you thought your life couldn’t get any worse. “Of course, I responded with a yes. We’re going to get married as soon as he returns.”

You pressed out a fake smile. “Congrats, Dot.” Your voice wobbled. “I’m happy for the two of you.”

“I knew you would be. I feel so much better now that someone knows.”

Dot didn’t stay much longer. It was a good thing, because you weren’t in a good place. As soon as she was gone, you had collapsed into a puddle of tears. Your dream was over. Bucky chose Dot over you. He loved her and not you.

“I’m not that girl”

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ REMEDY ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. you help patch up your significant other’s injuries.

CHARACTERS. gorou, kaedehara kazuha, kujou sara

CONTENT. gn!reader. canon-compliant. established relationship. fluff. 0.5k wc. rewrite of remedy at my old main blog @/verxsyon. reader is a medic. injuries. war between the watatsumi army and the shogunate (gorou and kujou sara).

VERA. happy new year, everyone! first fic of 2025! tbh I wish inazuma gets rewritten (i would personally do that if i had enough brain cells but sadly i have none), but i’m glad the story stepped up on how it's been told since sumeru.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. GOROU

“i’m fine.” general gorou is too prideful to admit that he got shot on the shoulder by a shogunate archer. with the presence of medical staff in his tent, you know too well that he won’t tell the truth. so you instruct them to leave to tend to the other soldiers.

“you can fool the medics, but not your partner.” he growls when you roll out a bundle of bandages. “dear obarashi. gorou, it’s just me.”

gorou remains cautious of your movements. then he hesitantly reveals where the arrow had struck, and you proceed to treat that spot. “i don’t want my men to worry too much about me.”

“but i do if you don’t tell me,” you enunciate every word with a poke on his skin. “from now on, can you please be more honest? i want you to be okay.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck when you embrace him as your forgiveness. “i’ll try, for you.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

“seems like you had them on for a while,”  you remark, noticing a strip of his bandages hanging out from his hand. “here, i’ll put on fresh ones for you.”

despite being in a relationship for quite some time now, there are things kazuha isn’t comfortable sharing just yet, such as the burnt scars on his hand. he follows you into your shared cabin at the crux, anxious of your thoughts about his injuries.

“wow.” your thumb traces the trail of ridges from his palm to his wrist, making him wince. he doesn’t sense disgust from you, which is a relief. “give me a moment; i need to fetch ointment from my drawer. tell me if it hurts, okay?”

the process is mostly painless. his palm stings a little bit, but watching you tend to his wounds with care makes him forget the pain. after you finish patching up, you kiss the area where his scars are. “better?”

humming in affirmation, kazuha leans forward to kiss your forehead as thanks for taking care of him. “much better.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KUJOU SARA

“let me guess. that oni again?” you know what caused her injuries, but having a good laugh or two is something that may lighten up the mood. general sara is not amused, so you drop the cheerful act immediately.

“sorry, i was trying to make you feel better.” she doesn’t respond, rather staring at you with blank eyes. “i’ll just shut up and get my first-aid kit.”

treating someone of high authority like her feels awkward, acting as if she’s judging you. on the contrary, she tries to formulate an explanation of her injuries. “i apologize for the inconvenience. the resistance bested us again.”

of course, the divine priestess and her army. troublesome and a force to be reckoned with. you tap her shoulder, signaling her that you finished. “don’t apologize. just be careful.”

with a squeeze on your forearm, sara leaves without looking back. you keep praying that the war will be over soon, and that she will come back to you safe and sound.

[v1bri]

I don’t think people talk enough about Bert’s reason to be a warrior.

It’s never stated in the anime, but like every other warrior, Bertholdt has a reason as to why he’s there: to treat his father.

Obviously, that tells us that his father’s sick. But that’s it. We know nothing else. Does he have a chronic illness that needed treatment to maintain? Or did he develop a disease such as cancer that can be treated but not cured? It’s unknown.

We know that he must’ve been sick for a long time, as Bertl has been a warrior candidate since toddler stages (Magath states this in Season 4 Episode 3) therefore ever since he was young all he’s wanted to do it treat/save his father.

We also hear nothing about his mother. Unfortunately I don’t think she’s alive, as I really doubt Bert would’ve been enrolled into the Warrior program as I feel like his mother would’ve helped treat his father. So, maybe Bertl had no choice but to enlist due to the lack of support.

But, did Marley start treating his father the minute Bertholdt sign up and get accepted, or when he went off to Paradis? Again, it’s unknown.

We know that unfortunately his father passed not long before the events of Season 4, with Karina and Mr Leonhart talking about his passing and how he was extremely proud of his son for doing what he did. Did his illness turn terminal, or did Marley cut off his treatment when they found out Bertholdt didn’t come back and he was slowly deteriorating ever since?

I know all of the candidates have tragic pasts and shouldn’t have gone through the things they did at all, but Bertholdt’s story sticks out to me because he was just a little kid who loved his dad so much and would do anything to make sure he lives. But unfortunately they both couldn’t get what they wanted.

In my opinion, I believe that Bertholdt only has had his father in his life; his mother rather passed away or left them at a young age. His father must’ve already been sick (due to a chronic illness), and the poor treatment only caused him to become more susceptible to more diseases such as cancer or infections. Marley treated him not long before Bertholdt left to Paradis, however after not making it back home, they rather cut off the treatment immediately or slowly until he passed.

Marley is a cruel, cruel nation and I really wouldn’t put it past them to do such a thing. They did not care about the children or their families, they cared about their titans. Thats it.

I really wish we got more on Bert’s backstory, learning about what happened whilst he grew up and what caused him to become someone that followed so much he lost his sense of humanity.