#idk if i had to tag something else or not???

[tokkiwrites]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

summary: You work at a rundown bar, where the crowd is full of shady figures you’d rather avoid. Most nights, you keep to yourself, focusing on the drinks. But there’s one customer you can’t ignore: a handsome, older man who comes in every day, always ordering the same thing. And it seems he can't overlook you either.

tags: oldman!logan, hefty age gap but mentioned twice (logan is literally 100 and some), mutual feelings but no communication (for most of it), jealousy, violence, mention of blood, assault on reader (by drunk patrons), mention of wounds (reader cleans logan up), kind of angst idk, logan calls reader 'doll' & 'angel', no description of reader (reader is able bodied & and logan can pick reader up but he's like a mutant so yk), reader doesn't know about Logan’s powers, p in v (unprotected), afab!reader, fools in love [let me know if i missed anything!]

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ wowza! i was gone and came back with a new obsession, OLD.MAN.LOGAN. mhm. this doesn't have sm nsfw stuff, but it has 4.2k words sooo yeah. ENJOY. Also, not beta read, so sorry !! love ya !!

The bar wasn’t much to look at. Dim lighting, peeling paint, and booths that had seen better days. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they didn’t want to be found or when they had nowhere else to go. You’d learned not to ask questions. The regulars didn’t expect conversation, just a steady stream of drinks to numb the rough edges of their lives.

You’d been working here long enough to recognize the different kinds of silence people carried. Some were heavy with anger, others with regret.

But his silence was different.

He’d come in every night, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, the neon sign in the window flickering weakly. Always the same seat, always the same drink — a glass of whiskey, neat, then more as the night wore on. He never looked around, never talked to anyone, just sat there, brooding under the low light. But his eyesㅡ they had a way of finding you.

At first, it was just a glance here or there, easy enough to dismiss. But as the nights passed, you could feel his gaze linger, like he was waiting for something. Or maybe it was you who was waiting. You never talked. You barely even made eye contact when you set his glass down. But somehow, in the quiet, you understood each other. Like you were both drawn to the same place for reasons neither of you would say.

Day after day, it was the same routine. He’d walk in, nod slightly at you — never a word — and you’d pour his drink without being asked. There was something comforting in the rhythm of it. Something unspoken. the silence that both of you created.

Sometimes, you’d catch him watching the bar, his brow furrowed in thought, but when your eyes met, he’d turn away, like there was something he wasn’t ready to admit. Still, he came back. Every night. And every night, it was the same: the weight of what wasn’t said hung between you like cigarette smoke in the stale air.

The crowd didn’t notice. They never did. They were too wrapped up in their own noise, their own shadows. But in the quiet moments — the pauses between pouring drinks and wiping down the bar — there was him. And there was you.

Time passed like that. Silent, heavy, and slow. Days blending into nights, and nights blending into the weight of his presence at the corner of the bar. Neither of you said a word, but somehow, you both knew there was more.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be spoken. Maybe it didn’t need to be. But you couldn’t deny it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The bar’s usual hum was interrupted by a loud group of men who barged in with a boisterous energy that filled the dim space. After a few drinks, their laughter was more intrusive, their voices carrying a raucous edge that unsettled most, if not all, patrons present. You took a deep breath, focusing on your steps as you approached their table again with a polite, strained smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the tension. “Yeah, sweetheart, another round,” the burly man at the center of the group said, leaning forward with a smirk that curled up almost to his eyes. “And make it quick.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to fetch their drinks. As you passed by, one of the men reached out and grabbed your thigh roughly. The touch was invasive, and you flinched, your face briefly contorting with discomfort before you masked it with a professional smile. “Please, just let me know if you need anything,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. The man’s friends laughed, their eyes following you with lewd interest. “Hey, don’t be so uptight, princess” one with a red hat on called out. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”

You could feel the weight of their gazes as you moved around the bar, pouring drinks and clearing empty glasses. The men’s comments grew increasingly crude, their remarks about you becoming more suggestive with every passing minute. “You know, if you weren’t such a stuck-up bitch, maybe you’d actually enjoy some company,” another man said with a drunken grin. “Why don’t you come over here and have a drink with us? We promise we don't bite. unless you want us to."

You forced yourself to maintain your composure, slipping away to tend to other customers whenever possible. The discomfort was evident in the stiffness of your movements and the tightness in your voice as you continued to interact with them. “Is there anything else you need?” you asked, your attempt at politeness barely masking your growing unease. The men’s behavior grew increasingly aggressive. One particularly sleazy figure leaned closer as you approached their table. “Why don’t you come outside with us, baby?” he suggested with a smirk. “I bet we could show you a real good time.”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but you managed to keep your head up. “Please, just be respectful,” you said, though your discomfort was evident in the way you avoided eye contact and focused intently on your tasks. The men continued to make more remarks, their laughter echoing around the bar. “You know, I bet she likes it rough,” one of them said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie. “Just look at her.”

As the night slipped, the men began to gather their things, their loud voices gradually fading as they prepared to leave. “See you around, sweetheart,” one of them called out, his voice slurred. “Hope to find you here next time.”

You watched them leave, the sound of their laughter fading into the night. Logan, who had been sitting silently in his usual corner, was now absent. The emptiness of his spot felt pronounced, and the tension in the room seemed to shift with his departure.

Finishing up your work, you closed the bar with a sense of relief, though the unease from the evening’s events lingered. When you stepped outside to lock up, the cool night air hit you, and you were met with a startling sight.

Logan was leaning against the wall outside the bar, his clothes smeared with blood and his face bearing the marks of a recent altercation. He took a slow drag from a cigarette, the smoke curling around him and blending with the chilly night air. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight. Shock and concern etched on your face, you approached him slowly, your steps hesitant. The sight of him, battered and silent, was jarring.

without any words, from your pocket, you retrieved a handkerchief and extended it toward Logan. The white fabric embroidered with blue and yellow flowers stood out sharply against the dark stains of blood on his clothes. He accepted the handkerchief with a solemn nod, his gaze fixed on the ground. As he began to gently wipe away the blood from his gruff face, the night’s silence seemed to deepen, and alongside your quiet breath, spun you both into a dance.

You didn’t speak. He didn't speak. You both just stared at each other, and the bloodied fabric now snug into your fist yet again. your eyes finally stay locked with his for more than a few seconds. your heart almost stops, and you swear you see a smile play on his lips. a promise.

from the corner of your eye, you see a red hat on the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The street was quiet, the only sound your footsteps echoed in the stillness. Questions swirled in your mind, each one more urgent than the last. What had happened to Logan after the men left? Did he confront them? Did he hurt them—worse than they had hurt you?

thoughts raced with unsettling possibilities. Had he been driven to violence, and if so, had it been severe? Did he simply rough them up, or had the confrontation escalated to something darker? The idea that he might have crossed a line you could never have anticipated gnawed at you. The image of him, bloodied but silent, replayed in your mind, intertwining with the echoes of those moments you had to endure.

a promise.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The following day broke clear and crisp, but the chill in the air did nothing to lighten your mood. You arrived at the bar early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. The quiet morning gave way to the usual routine, and you tried to focus on your work, pushing aside the lingering thoughts about Logan. they were more apparent than usual, the thought of him hurting others because they had hurt you sent your heart into a frenzy. you cursed under your breath.

it's just a stupid crush, right?

As the evening approached and the bar began to fill with the usual crowd, you were busying yourself with the evening preparations when the door swung open. The familiar chime of the bell caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Logan enter. But he wasn’t alone.

At his side was an older woman, her presence a striking contrast to the dim surroundings. She was dressed in a sleek, elegant outfit that seemed to shimmer under the bar’s low lights. Her laughter was light and easy, and her touch intimate as she rested her hand on Logan’s arm. she was gorgeous.

The sight of them together was like a cold splash of waterㅡ No, it felt like molten glass was being spilled on your heart. You felt a pang of jealousy so sharp it was almost physical. The way the woman leaned into Logan and the easy familiarity they shared cut through you, and a knot of discomfort formed in your chest. oh, your poor heart.

You forced yourself to focus on your duties, though every glance toward their table felt like an intrusion on a scene that you wished you could unsee. Logan’s usually reserved demeanor seemed softened by the woman’s presence. They sat close together, sharing private jokes and smiles that seemed to exclude everyone else.

When you approached their table with a forced smile, the woman looked up at you with a polite but slightly inquisitive gaze. Logan’s eyes met yours briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, there was a faint hint of acknowledgment—or perhaps recognition.

“What can I get for you?”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned to the woman. “He’ll have what I’m having,” she said. “Gin and Tonic.” The woman smiled warmly at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice light as she shooed you away.

You nod and walk away. He doesn't like that. He never drinks that. Who is she and why is she changing everything you've built with her 'Gin and Tonic' ? jealousy was bitter, like her Gin and Tonic, mingling with a shot of rejection that you struggled to swallow

The night dragged on, and you found yourself caught between the desire to avoid them and the want to know more. Every time you had to approach their table, you forced a smile, even as your heart ached. was what he done last night just charity work? is that all you are to him?

When the evening came to a close and the bar began to empty, you watched as Logan and the woman finished their drinks and prepared to leave. They shared a brief goodbye before she departed, leaving Logan alone at the table.

As you prepared to close up, Logan made his way to the bar. The clinking of glass and the quiet murmur of the remaining patrons faded into the background as you focused on tidying up. You glanced up and there he was, as breathtaking as ever.

“Can I get you anything else?” you ask him. it's the second time you've since asked him this since he started coming to this bar. “Just a whiskey,” he said quietly, his deep voice hugging you. When you returned with his drink, Logan accepted it with a silent nod. There was a brief pause, an awkward silence that seemed to stretch between you. it never felt this way. this quiet was loud, it wasn't yours. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said, his voice low. “Last night...” You meet his eyes yet again, a guarded stare. “It’s not about that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I justㅡ" you try and bite your tongue. "I didn’t expect to see you with someone else.”

Logan’s eyes softened slightly, though his face remained inscrutable. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said quietly. “Sometimes it’s just about a moment of normalcy.”

wasn’t what you had normal enough?

you watched him leave, the bar yet again empty. and for the first time in months, you let yourself crumble. tears stream down your face and onto the dark wood of the counter.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

It was your day off. Your house was a haven of quietude. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight that wrapped around you as you stepped outside. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, tempered by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the big tree shading your little bench.

You settled onto the bench, surrounded by the foliage and flowers that adorned your small garden. The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of evening birds created a serene backdrop to your thoughts. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility wash over you as you sought solace.

in your mind played a relentless loop. these past few days have really tugged at your strength. and you never knew how deep what you felt for Logan was, and how 'not normal' it might've seemed for him. "He would never be with me. I’m clearly way too young for him. Maybe I’m not mature enough...” The words felt like a feeble attempt to convince yourself of the impossibility of what you had hoped for. the streetlights began to flicker on, casting long shadows across the garden.

Just as you were about to stand and head inside, a sudden noise made you freeze. You turned your gaze and saw a figure emerging from the edge of the street.

Logan. but he was not the same as you remembered him. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his face marred with fresh woundsㅡ He moved with a weary, deliberate pace, each step seemingly heavy with the weight of his injuries. or maybe to not scare you away.

your serene backdrop shattered, in the middle of the cold surroundings was only Logan’s limping body as he made his way towards you. Meanwhile, your hands start to shake and for a moment it feels like you are dreaming, maybe you were still meditating on the bench. He came to a halt a few feet away. His eyes, though tired, met yours. There it was again, your silence. The silence you both built, and it came back, feeling so warm. He was hurt; why was he here? how does he know you live here?

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with worry. You took a step toward him, your gaze darting over his injuries with growing concern. He remained silent, looking away —perhaps a silent plea or a quiet admission. weighing whether to speak or to simply endure, he looked back up at you.

"Let me help you." you speak up again, eyes furrowed softly. "Please?"

With a slow nod, Logan permitted you to guide him into your cozy home. The interior was a sanctuary of warmth and soft light, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to him from the outside. You gently led him to the couch, where he sank down with a weary sigh. You moved with purpose, retrieving the first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, your mind focused on easing his pain, as Logan focused on your adorned house, every corner a small piece of you.

you began to tend to his injuries, the only sounds being the quiet rustling of bandages and Logan’s occasional, pained breath. After the last bandage was in place, you took a seat across from him, the soft chair creaking slightly as you settled.

“What happened?” you asked again, your voice soft but insistent. Logan started, “About the woman from last night—”

“I don’t care about her. I just want to know who did this to you.” you interrupted. He looked at you, a mix of frustration and resignation in his eyes. “No, it’s her. She worked for a company. They were after something from me—blood samples for some experiments. I don’t—”

He hesitated, struggling to explain. “Look, it’s not just about her. It’s more complicated than that. They’re connected to people who don’t play fair. I ended up having to defend myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to bring you into this mess.”

You paused him, your hands stilling. “What is it?”

Logan took a deep breath, the weight of his words evident in his expression. “It’s not just about the trouble I’m in. It’s... it’s about how I feel."

"When I come to the bar... it’s more than just the whiskey." you heart stops and starts back again with double the force. "I’ve developed feelings for you, doll. Strong feelings.” his voice. he was vulnerableㅡ sincere. “I know it’s complicated, with our age difference, and I know I haven’t made things easy being always silentㅡ But I had to be honest with you. I care about you more than I thought I would.”

"Logan, Iㅡ" he kneeled in front of you, so fast, taking into his calloused palms your own trembling ones as he spoke again. "I know, you don't need to say anything. I know you could never fall for someone like me." like him? but how you wished everyone was like him, and no one at the same time, so he could be all your own. "I won't force you, just.."

"Please let me speak, Logan..." you interjected gently. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it’sㅡ it's been eating my heart alive. From the moment you first came to that bar exactly five months ago, thats how long I've waited for you to speak." tears brim at your eyes. “I didn’t know how to put it into words. Every night you came in, every glance, every silent conversation—it all made me realize how deeply and painfully I fell. it’s been tearing me apart to keep it to myself, and it sucks that it took a jealousy-induced panic attack for me to finally admit it" You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness as you tried to hide your tears.

Logan’s gaze softened as his rough thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. "Doll..." He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry for making you go through that. I should have been braver." You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “No, it’s not entirely your faultㅡ I was scared too. Scared of what my feelings meant, scared of how you might react...”

"We were both afraid then, doll. But now, we’ve got a chance to face it together. If you’re willing.”

your heart ached so good, hoping this wasn't only a dream. "I am so willing." a smile broke through your sobs and Logan finally embraced you. As you pressed against him, you felt the steady beat of his heart, a rhythmic reminder that this was realㅡ that this was happening. His body was solid and reassuring, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into your very soul. It was a warmth that was strangely familiar, as if your heart had always known this moment was meant to be. The softness of his shirt against your cheek, his scent filling your sensesㅡ There was something profoundly beautiful about this first embrace. like discovering a cherished melody for the first time, one that resonated deep within you. you had known this comfort all along, buried within the unspoken parts of both your souls.

the world outside was distant, it was just the two of you. Logan pulls away for a second and his eyes meet yours. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yoursㅡ it left you breathless. You had only dreamed of this. His lips melded with yours, and again it felt like the silence you both always shared.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and a little disoriented, he asks through low gasps, hands cupping your blushed cheeks. "Let me show you how much I care, doll." and you can only whimper a soft 'yes' as his lips crash onto your neck, painting soft kisses and marks that tomorrow morning will look like lilac petals.

he picks you up effortlessly, and through stolen moans you guide him to your bedroom, where he places you upon the bed and stares from over you. "Undress for me, angel." he's firm in what he wants, and when you catch a glimpse of the bulge that's formed in his roughed up jeans you quickly comply. you leave yourself naked under his eyes, hands placed on your sides to support yourself. "You're so beautiful. I'm going to make you all mine." Logan groans as he starts to peel off his clothes, revealing his almost healed wounds. "I was already yours.." you whisper, and he smiles in the corner of his mouth.

he takes his time, first he preps kisses upon your breasts, then down to you bellybutton, and finally to your thighs. Logan chuckles as he parts your legs further and reveals your dripping core. "She’s ready for me, ain't she?" you muster up a 'mhm' and nip at you bottom lip as he pulls himself up and positions his hardened manhood between your legs, where you could see it better. you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared. this wasn't your first time, but it was the first time you'd ever seen a cock like hisㅡ you wondered how it'll fit.

"Don't worry, angel. I'll go slow. Promise" he pressed a kiss on your forehead before aligning himself with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"Please, Logan..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. "So pretty, dollㅡ fuck..." he moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, little pleads dripping from your lips.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Logans's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, angel. come around my cock, c'monㅡ shit."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under Logan, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach with white, silky strands.

for a few moments, you sit there in silence. your silence.

[lara-cairncross]

OKAY. SO. I just looked through the entire fairy au tag..I apologize for all the notifs .... bUT that being said, because I just looked at everything, I don't think any of this has been discussed much, so I have a few questions!! (This is actually a really long ask I apologize for that as well)

Do the turtles give gifts to April? I know there was talk about Donnie making like tiny versions of what he thinks are his own ideas and inventions for April to use, but do the other turtles ever make anything for her? I noticed like a vine kind of looking ring that she had in the size comparison with Leo, and I was wondering if that was given by one of the turtles, or if she already had it just because she would definitely make herself a little ring out of like flower stems or whatever. ALSO. ACTUALLY. It looks similar to what Mikey has around his arms and legs, sooooo ??? (And is that bracelet she has, also in that drawing, possibly from one of the turtles as well ?)

And, does she ever make anything for the turtles? AND AND AND does she ever make anything with the turtles? I feel like she would make things with Mikey, like jewelry and stuff idk

OH AND ALSO. I'm curious about Donnie's glasses. Because they are clearly different than Bobble's with the water drops, are Donnie's like glass or something? Like actual lenses or whatever?? Aaaand did he somehow make them himself, while not being able to see very well before making them, or did someone else help him with that? And how did he get the materials for them?

I realized I'm extra curious about Donnie (and his glasses specifically help-) and extra EXTRA curious about April's interactions with the turtles.... I'm wondering if you have any ideas about the kinds of stuff they do together? Whether just April and one of the turtles, or all five of them together, or any combination?

Anyway yeah that's it for now. I really really really really love this au and I will probably come back and ask more questions because RHAHWWSUWHSWHHSHWNWKEZJEJHRHEHFHGEGS they're my favourite silly goofy little guys fr!!!!

AHSHSHFHE PLEASE DONT APOLOGIZE FOR THE NOTIFS OR THE QUESTIONS !!! getting spammed makes me feel so loved mwah <3 I know this ask is from a while ago, but I remember seeing you all over my "activity" tab :DDD

Yes, the turtles all give gifts to April! she has SO many little trinkets laying around her cabin from the fairy boys, bc she never throws any of them out,,, even if a lot of them are kinda useless to her lmao (looking at Donnie's "inventions" for this one). The little flower stem ring around her finger is just something she made for herself (probably after one of the boys taught her, I'm thinking Mikey?), but the bracelet was intended to be a gift from Leo :D he finds all kinds of pretty rocks/gems/lost things around Neverland when he's making deliveries and finding materials and stuff. April gets a lot of old jewelry and seashells and things from Leo! Raph tends to give her little things that his animals have shed (pretty scales and feathers, maybe the occasional antler or talon?), and Mikey will just. Fill her house with flowers. And not, like, cut flowers-- just CLUMPS of dirt and roots all over April's counters. All the boys will help him do it too, and April feels too bad to tell them to stop HAH

2. Most of what April "makes" for the turtles is just various human dishes that they want to try! She gets a bunch of weird snacks for them too-- like, can you imagine a fairy trying a Taki for the first time? A SOUR PATCH KID??? Donnie drinks one single drop of hot sauce and dies immediately lmao. She doesn't really make them gifts, but she'll buy Donnie whatever cool human materials she thinks he can make something out of (more on that later--), and she'll get specific video games and phone apps and movies that she thinks the boys will like!! And maybe the occasional bigger gift, like a stuffed animal for Rose :) ALSO YES she would totally make flower crowns and rings and stuff with Mikey!! gotta do smth with all the flowers he's dumping in her living room rip

3. FUN FACT ABOUT DONNIES GLASSES (I've been waiting for someone to ask about this--): He started off with glasses/goggles that were similar to Bobble's water-drop ones!!! He only figured out to make glasses with actual lenses once he met April, and got to study HER glasses! His own glasses are made of, like, cheap magnifying lenses April bought him, and he cut them down to size :DD The metal on his goggles/shell/glasses is all also stuff that April bought for him-- probably like, wire of different sizes. She gets him a lot of human materials to play around with hehe

4. Group activities with the boys + April can be anything, really. Her family's cabin is kinda in the middle of nowhere, and April is a city girl at heart, so sometimes the boys will force her to go hiking or exploring in the woods with them :D She hated it at first, but as time goes on, she gets more used to the bugs and the wildlife and everything-- especially since Raph and Leo will do their best to scout out routes beforehand so she doesn't get freaked out by anything. Movie nights are also really common! So are video games, to an extent? But it takes basically all four turtles to maneuver one X-box controller, so it's a little more rare lmao. April definitely wins 90% of the time.

5. As for individual activities-- those are also a bit more rare. The two boys April interacts with one-on-one (or two-on-one) the most are Leo and Mikey, since they're usually the least busy, and Leo can fast-fly them to April's cabin and back really quickly. Typically though, Leo doesn't go to the cabin unless all five of them are available to meet up!

(...although Leo starts bringing Mikey more often once Mikey loses his job. teehee.)

AHHEHFHER THANK YOU FOR ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!! I loveeeeee getting to worldbuild a bit :DDD I STILL CANT BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THIS LIKE THATS CRAZY TO ME LMAO

let me know if you have any more questions! thanks bby <3

[stxrrynxghts]

Droupadi Headcanons

I like Droupadi more than Draupadi. IDK, it looks more...aesthetic to me, lol. The palaash tree headcanon is by @hum-suffer

She (and Dhrishtadyumna) are the middle children of the family. They have five elder brothers, and five younger ones.

She is the only girl, and it makes her crave female companionship.

Droupadi had bad handwriting in the initial years, since she was just learning how to write. She also suffered from dyslexia during this time.

She is tall, by female standards.

Droupadi prefers to be addressed as Krishnā.

She likes wearing red, but her favorite color is green. She loves nature.

She is good at math.

She suffered from social anxiety and fear of public speaking in the initial years of her marriage. She eventually got out of it.

Droupadi is an aspiring botanist. She loves studying about anything plant-related.

She hates horse-riding.

She loves to wear her hair in a half bun.

Droupadi and Dhrishtadyumna frequently send each other letters filled with gossip, ranging from three to five letters per day. Their birds work very hard to deliver those letters on time.

She is VERY infuriated by Dhrishtadyumna's antics, mostly.

She dislikes sweets. *sed Bhima noises*

Droupadi loves travelling. She loves different kinds of sceneries. Nakul and Arjun always paint something for her, whenever they visit a new kingdom.

She loves to promote local crafts.

Droupadi likes making new gardens in Indraprastha and Panchal. She even sends ideas for gardens back home, to her mother.

Droupadi always calms down Satyabhama when the latter loses her temper.

Her favorite parent is her mom.

Droupadi always wanted multiple daughters.

Prativindhya and Shrutakarma are her favorites (don't tell them, pls.) However, no one knows about this.

Droupadi was very confused and scared of motherhood. Her mother shifted to Indraprastha temporarily, to help her out.

Satyabhama and Dhrishtadyumna are her besties.

Droupadi never played games like tag and hide n seek as a child, so she and Subhadra play it regularly.

Droupadi loves ponds.

She is a light sleeper.

Even after she gained so much experience, Droupadi is still somewhat innocent. She does not understand manipulative techniques and gets confused easily.

She was very depressed after the game of dice. She always thought "why me?" and cried and cried for weeks, in the forest.

She never quite forgave her husbands for it, especially Yudhishthira.

Her back and thighs were bruised after the game of dice.

Droupadi did not want her sons to stay away from her, but she was convinced to send them to Panchal, so she did.

She avoids everyone whenever her period comes, post the game of dice. It brings back traumatic memories for her.

Droupadi exchanges many letters with her sons, co-wives, parents, brothers and sisters-in-law during the exile.

She always cries after reading Prativindhya and Shatanika's angst-filled letters.

She distributed the jewelry Arjun brought from heaven between her nieces and nephews. She didn't have anything else to gift them.

Droupadi finds it hard to strike a conversation with her sons post exile, but she is trying.

All of her sons belongings' were burned on day 18, except the few they had left back in Panchal. Droupadi does not allow anyone else to touch or see them.

Droupadi was never short-tempered, but post war, her mood is bitter, melancholic and cranky often.

She had portraits of her sons, but all of them, except Shrutasena's, were destroyed.

She spent her time with plants, post the war. It was a way of coping, for her.

Droupadi tries to stay in Panchal or Dvaraka mostly, post war. It's better than living in Hastinapur or Indraprastha, at least.

Droupadi and Sudeshna become pen-pals, post war.

Whenever she is in Hastinapur, she avoids the courtroom at all costs.

Droupadi helps Parikshit plant palaash and rhododendron saplings. They are the favorite flowers of his parents.

Droupadi plants the favorite flowers of all of her loved ones who are now gone

She hears what Yudhishthira said about her before she died, and it hurts her very much.

She hits her head on a rock after falling, and slowly bleeds to death.

[pollyna]

So, hear me out. Bradley knows about the Iceman but doesn't know him.

He's the friend Uncle Mav takes for important dinners once in a blue moon, and Bradley feels awkward around him because the man is tall, even if not the tallest man in his young life, and even if his mom tells him to go say hi, he hides behind Mav's leg and spends most of the night looking out at this man like he is some sort of mythical creature who not only knew his dad, Nick, but flew with him too. There's a picture in moma's bedroom of the five of them: moma, dad, uncle Mav, uncle Slider, and the Iceman.

Iceman is the man that Bradley hates a little bit because when he ships out, Uncle Slider wakes up at actual dawn, and Bradley can never get back to sleep because then his mom gets up too, and Uncle Mav really really tries to walk around on his tips when he comes through the door with him, but Bradley is awake. And it's too soon for him. So he has the right to hate him a little bit because of that.

In the years to come, the Iceman is going to be a voice over the phone, a sporadic presence over their table, and the person who will make Uncle Slider, who he calls Papa these days, cry like a baby the day he and his mom got married. And he's going to be the person with whom Uncle Mav sometimes disappears for weeks at a time, sometimes even months, coming back generally more tanned and happy than Bradley can remember him even being. He is the man who sends letters and postcards that his mom pins on the fridge and the man who makes his Papa leave the house at 2 am because his plane had been shot down and nobody knows shit about what happened. He's the man who forces him to wear his suit because of the medals and all that, and he has to go, especially if they are in the afternoon. (It's that Iceman forces him in the suits, nope, that's all his mom's work).

So yeah, he knows of the man, but he knows very little of him, and maybe he spent about twenty hours in his presence and company in his sixteen years of life. Then, during a party, some of his classmates ask if his uncle Mav is single because her aunt is interested in him, and Bradley doesn't know how to answer. When he asks his mom that same afternoon about Mav's love life, she shrugs and says, "He has someone, baby goose, had for a long time," and that's all he gets out of her, besides a single long look at the photo of Mav and the Iceman.

Something happens in the two years he and uncle Mav don't talk because something stupid Bradley said and something equally stupid Mav answered, and Mav writes to him a lot—letters, mail, and even a wedding invitation he sees five months later because he was away for his training and didn't switch postal codes. He doesn't open it because he's still angry with him, and his mom is so fucking disappointed with Bradley because "he got married and you weren't there". This thing hunts him for a long while, until he doesn't see Mav by chance when he gets assigned to Top Gun for the first time. He's wearing his wedding band, and he smiles sadly at him before saluting a superior and disappearing in the crowds, talking away with the base commander.

(It takes another half a year before they reconcile, but Mav doesn't talk about his spouse, and Bradley doesn't ask. He hears, thanks to the gossip vines, that the Iceman is getting his second star, and his mom talks, with Papa about his white hair and how distinguished he looked, during a barbecue the week before. Papa laughs and says, "Yeah, I'm sure he thinks exactly the same.")

But then he gets to know the Iceman, and not only of him after the mission, after he and Mav almost died, the man himself, with four stars on his shoulders and enough commandments on his chest to make the jacket look really heavy to wear, came to salute them on the bridge, shaking hands with every pilto and exchanging a couple of words with Mav himself. They are back on the land, Mav is sleeping in the back of the Bronco when they arrive home, and Carole and Ron are already at the front door waiting for him, talking with a guy sitting on the patio swing.

"Hey Mav, we are here," he says, gently shocking the man.

It almost happens all too fast, considering Uncle Mav is injured, and he's limping because his ankle is in a cast. He wakes up and looks around like he doesn't know where he is, but then his eyes focus on the figure who's looking back at him and who's getting up and walking towards them. And oh god, the Iceman is there, the fucking Admiral is in his backyard, and he's walking towards his car, but his eyes are on the person behind him, who's trying to get out of the car without killing himself.

"Kazansky, fancy finding you here," Mav starts, straddling himself against the Bronco.

"I was in the neighbourhood, so I thought to come by and say hi," he says, all serious but with a smile trying to creep on his features.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Admiral," Mav answers, already taking a step towards him.

"It is always a pleasure to know you are alive, Captain," he said, closing the distance between them, taking his face between his hands, and kissing him slowly.

"Fuck Pete, Jesus Christ, baby, I'm so happy you're home," he murmurs, and Bradley knows he shouldn't be hearing this because it's private and not for his ears. So he slips out of the car, as silently as he can and walks towards his mama and papa who engulf him in the biggest, warmest hug he has received in a little while.

He doesn't know how long they spend like that, hugging each other and not really talking because Bradley is getting all the comfort he needs by only being there, until Mav pats him on the back and says, "Hey B, I want to introduce you to someone."

And Admiral Kazansky smiles at him, not in the polite way he got accustomed to seeing him smile, but in a warmer, more familiar way: "Hi, I don't think you really remember about me, I'm Tom, Pete's husband."

So, at the end of the day, he knows of the Iceman, because of gossip, and knows a little about him because his mom and papa talk a lot about him, but he can say he personally knows Tom Kazansky, the man who married his uncle Pete and who sits in front of him every time they come over for dinner.

[gatoburr0]

Been thinking about it

[iizuumi]

Side effects of wearing your Kaiju suit too often ,,,, Part 2

[bibi-likes-to-draw]

I love them <3

Reblogs greatly appreciated!

[risingsunresistance]

who would win, god of the realm or one (1) hog 🐖

[pineappical]

would calling this something like "the sun to his earth" be a little bit too cliche? maybe...

[lost-in-fandoms]

Don't ask me why, I don't know it just happened. Maxiel early morning sex with vampire!Daniel I guess

cw: slight somnophilia, blood drinking, tiny bit of praise kink, unprotected (but implied safe) sex

It's still early when Daniel nudges his nose against Max's throat, the sun barely starting to peak out of the horizon, the room still dark and quiet.

He doesn't need too much light to know how Max is looking, pale skin soft and warm with sleep under the sheets, mouth slightly open, messy hair tickling Daniel's forehead. Perfect round ass pressed snugly against Daniel's quickly hardening cock, just the thin layer of Max's boxers between them.

Daniel nudges Max's neck again, one of his hands tracing down Max's body, curling around his hip and squeezing slightly, just enough to alert Max, not enough to fully wake him up, perfectly balanced to elicit a change in his breathing.

He bares his teeth and drags them gently over Max's pulse point, feeling it pick up as Max shifts, pressing back against him with a soft sigh.

"Daniel?" he asks, letters slurring together, as if it could be anyone else. It makes Daniel smile and press his teeth a touch harder into his skin, feeling him shudder. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he murmurs, keeping his voice as soft as possible, not wanting Max to fully wake up.

Max hums, turning his face slightly towards Daniel, eyes still firmly closed, asking for a kiss Daniel is happy to give, trying to keep it sweet even as his hips kick against Max's ass when Max pushes it back again.

Max's lips curve into a smile against his, something small and pleased that Daniel wants to eat, the hunger in his body burning brighter.

"I want you," he says as if it wasn't already clear, their lips brushing together, the hand still on Max's hip traveling lover to his thigh, relishing in the way Max lets himself be moved, bending his knee to give Daniel's space, in the shudder that moves down Max's spine when his teeth find his throat again.

Max hums once more, lax and pliant in his hold, hips moving in lazy circles against Daniel, neck bared.

"Do you want me to be awake?" he murmurs, making Daniel laugh. They've done this often enough he knows he doesn't have to be, but he always asks anyway, always wants to make it good for Daniel, as if just having him here, warm and open in his arms isn't the best Daniel could ask for.

"I'll do the work," Daniel reassures him, already moving him to get rid of his underwear, trying his best to not disturb him too much as he leans over to grab the lube on the nightstand. "You just be good for me."

Max doesn't say anything more, already almost all the way back to sleep, even as Daniel lubes his fingers up and prods at his hole, still a little lose from the night before. He keeps it short but thorough, enjoying every one of Max's quiet sighs and moans, nose pressed on the soft spot just behind his ear, tongue lapping at his pulse point, barely keeping his teeth in check.

He gives in to the impulse of teasing, just a little bit, tugging on Max's rim, keeping his hips still to not allow him to fuck himself back on Daniel's fingers, but Max smells so sweet it's impossible to resist, especially when he starts begging so quickly.

"Please," he whines, sounding barely aware, tongue heavy in his mouth, limbs loose in Daniel's hands, his to take.

"I got you, I'm sorry," Daniel soothes, lining himself up, but stopping just before pushing in. "Can I?" he asks, lips brushing against Max's neck, feeling it move as Max nods.

"Good boy," he praises, steading his dick with one hand and Max's neck with the other.

And then, just as he presses in, he bites.

The tight heat of Max around him and the sweetness of his blood on his tongue make Daniel's head spin, as Max's moan reverberates through his whole body. He almost loses control, wanting nothing more than to snap his hips forward, fuck Max hard and fast until they both come panting, but it's not what this is about. He fights with himself, sucking slowly at Max's neck letting his blood pool on his tongue before swallowing, barely pulling back, grinding his hips against Max's ass in tight smooth circles.

He can feel Max clench around him even as his shoulders relax even more, his head lolling to the side, Daniel's hand the only thing keeping him pressed against his lips.

He listens to the way Max's breath itches, soft whines escaping from his parted lips, guiding his leg a little higher to be able to hit that sweet spot inside him that makes his back arch, his dick kick against his stomach.

"Come, baby," he slurs, a thin rivulet of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth, quickly chased by his greedy tongue.

He feels when Max comes untouched, not only in the change in the tension of his body, but in the way his blood seems to become sweeter and bolder in his mouth, almost too rich to swallow. It's that, and the way he's clenching and shivering through the aftershocks, that makes Daniel come too with a groan, muffled by the liquid in his mouth.

He doesn't move when he's done coming, staying pressed close inside as he dutifully tongues Max's skin until it stops bleeding, before pressing a kiss to the bruise that is already forming there, an apology for the effort he will have to put in to keep it hidden for the next few days.

Max stays still and pliant through it all, breathing deep and steady as if he had indeed gone back to sleep, not complaining even when Daniel finally pulls out, come trickling slowly out of his hole. On a different day, Daniel would want to move, get a closer look, get his mouth on it, but as it is, he just presses as close as he can, kissing Max's neck again. Soon he will get up to clean them both, get something for Max's breakfast, probably start packing for both of them, but for right now he can just enjoy his warmth and smell for a little longer, his blood singing inside him.

[youredreamingofroo]

The Sheep in Wolf's Clothing Onia Dhithos - -

"I will pull at my horns and bruise my flesh until I am born anew, my chest is too warm, I spew warm honey where I want muck. tar. I want to bear the teeth that my father and mother bore. These teeth are not sufficient. I want a bite, and I want it to be more than my words. I want to bite. I want to be the Wolf."

- -

[ Alt. ver. under the cut ] B/As

[duodusk]

acceptance

[rain-on-wax-feathers]

nonhuman burr, washington, and eliza!!!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

and happy pride to these assholes. it's still june so i can technially still make that joke right

[straight-to-the-pain]

I don't know if anyone else in the whump community has read 'A Constellation of Vital Phenomena' by Anthony Marra but it is genuinely a really good book and also has some of the best depictions of torture and its aftermath that I have read in fiction.

I wanted to share some of my favourite quotes, hopefully without too many spoilers as it is out of context, but maybe skip this post if you don't want to know anything at all going in.

To give a brief summary, the book centres around the lives of people in Chechnya during the first and second war between the Russian government (Feds) and the separatist rebels. The main story focuses on a man (Akhmed) who is trying to save his neighbour's daughter from being killed by the Feds after her father is taken away in the middle of the night. He does this by taking her to a hospital where he then volunteers. One of the people in his village (Ramzan) becomes an informer for the Feds after being tortured, and this is explored in the excerpts below.

‘Information the Feds would torture them for was written here on the walls for all to see. It was well understood among the men that the Feds had as much sense as two bricks smashed together. It was also understood that pain, rather than information, was the true purpose of interrogation.'

'During his first detention in the landfill, in 1995, in the first war, he had refused to inform. They had wrestled down his trousers, shown him the bolt cutters, and still he had said no. Screaming, thrashing, with his manhood half severed, he had said no. He had done that, and now he was ready to start saying yes.'

'He would have confessed everything, but they didn't ask, weren't interested, threatened to cut out his tongue and put pliers to his teeth if he spoke one more fucking word. Electric wires were wound around his fingers. A car battery was drained into his bones. God might have been watching, but it wasn't God's finger on the battery switch. The interrogating officers didn't speak. Instead he was an instrument they played, performing a duet, and in their own way they conversed through his sobs. They both wore very shiny shoes. That was all he would remember.'

'He had trouble walking, He had forgotten torture could be so exhausting. The new interrogator, the one with less shiny shoes, held him upright, using his whole body as a crutch, and helped him walk. He carefully wiped Ramzan's forehead with a handkerchief before opening the door to the next room.'

'The interrogator with less shiny shoes crouched behind him. His hands were wet. Ramzan promised everything, and the interrogator, like the parent of a child too old to believe in ghosts, watched him with disappointment, his clear eyes saddened by Ramzan's sincerity. The interrogator took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, laid the live wires on Ramzan's chest and mapped the border of their shared humanity. Ramzan offered his soul. He begged to be enslaved. The known universe contracted to the limits of the cement floor, and on it, the interrogator was both man and deity, prophet and god. By ten o'clock the interrogator with less shiny shoes asked his first question. By eleven the electrical wires were unwound from Ramzan's fingers. By noon he was allowed to dress. By one he was on the FSB payroll. He kept thanking the interrogator with less shiny shoes.'

‘Greed didn’t motivate his informing, at least not primarily; primarily he informed by necessity, to survive, for his love and hate and above all awe of the power wielded by the interrogating officer with less shiny shoes.'

'That was his greatest fear. Could he stay silent? Could he withstand what awaited him? He told himself that his love for the girl should fortify him against any torture, but this, like so much of what he told himself, was a lie. After all, he was squeamish at the sight of blood, what would he say when lying in a puddle of his own? But he saw no other way. He would pray for the strength to stay silent, for a quick heart attack, and leave the rest to God.' (This is Akhmed POV)

'When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing, Akhmed. When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing. When they threatened to electrocute me, I said nothing. When they threatened to castrate me, I said nothing. I said nothing, Akhmed. Whatever you think of me, you remember that once I said nothing when a wiser man would have sung. And the interrogators, they couldn't believe it. They called in others to examine me. I was there on the floor, and above their faces were dark ovals silhouetted by the ceiling lights. They had beaten me hard and I couldn't hear right, but I kept saying no, with every breath I had. The main reason they let me go, the only reason they didn't shoot me right there was out of perverse respect, some sort of professional courtesy. But I wish they had shot me, Akhmed, because the good part of me died there, and all this, everything since, has been an afterlife I'm trying to escape.'

‘I knew what was coming. I knew it never stops. They put a shame inside you that goes on like a bridge with no end, the humiliation, the fucking humiliation of knowing that you are not a human being but a bundle of screaming nerve endings, that the torture goes on even when the physical hurt quietens. People treated me differently when I came back the first time.'

[mysticalcats]

ok fellas this post is really different from my other stuff so i'm putting it under the cut for people who don't care and also because i'm slightly embarrassed

ok so. is it unusual for a girl to want to have a deep voice and a flat chest and a more square face and also feel slightly jealous of men and want to sound like them and look like them

and also is it unusual to want to be all that, but also simultaneously not be very bothered very much by how you look right now or by being referred to with she/her except for sometimes when you think about it too much. because i usually don't think about it except for sometimes where i suddenly just get really sad about being a girl or i'll always have this faint feeling that i am just unhappy about it

and also is it unusual to try to ignore it and go about your life being unbothered by it even though deep down it does kinda bother you but you can't really. like. say anything to anyone because your family won't react well and neither will your friends because they'll think it's weird and uncomfortable. i feel afraid to ever feel this way because i know the people in my life won't react well to it

so like. genuine question please lmk wtf is goin on because i'm unsure if it's normal and i've felt like this for a long time and it's confusing me and i don't even know what i'm going to do with the information once i know i'm just sort of lost LMAO