#if it’s true it wasn’t undeserved

[alistonjdrake]

I think I may have gotten someone fired today so. That’s on my mind

[forbidden-interlude]

Idk I feel like I always attract men in their workshop stage and then when they feel like they’ve bettered themselves, I’m suddenly not worthy of that version

[subbmissivesuccubus]

No secrets around here ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for 1K followers <3 <3 <3 I am undeserving but very appreciative. I am working on Bully Part 3 but please have this one shot as a token of my love.

It's a story suggested by my patron! If you'd like to suggest prompts for me to write, please consider checking out my patreon (link in bio) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary : Satoru and Suguru find out that their sweet, seemingly innocent girlfriend writes smutty fanfiction. They decide to make her fantasies come true while also making sure to teach her that keeping secrets from them have consequences <3

Contains : Fem reader. Established relationship. Degradation. Threesome M/M/F. Gojo and Geto being mean but with love. A bit meta.

“Dude- Suguru- SUGURU!”

“Stop yelling, Satoru.” The raven-haired man whined, rubbing a hand over his face as he was barely awake, “You better be dying if you’re calling me at 3 in the morning.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll wanna hear what I say.”

“Get to the point.”

“Ok, so you know how every time we visit our cutie, she’s super protective of her phone?”

“…Yeah.”

“And how she immediately shuts her laptop close if we walk in?”

“…Yeah.”

“I found out why. I just sent you a link.”

Satoru hung up and Suguru groaned, looking his phone annoyance before the ding of a message received rang out. He raised an eyebrow as he read the message, the link opening upto a website called…tumblr? He was aware of the site but it never interested him enough to truly put any effort into finding out more about it. He also knew of the concept of fanfiction (thanks to a certain someone) and knew that Tumblr had a lot of creators posting their fanmade content.

But he had no idea it was…something like this.

Reader is being a brat and gets put in her place – Fem Reader X Demon Slayer men.

Where the men of One-Piece love to cum <3

Dick headcannons, a.k.a. who among the Honkai men are packing~

Suguru scoffed as he scrolled down the posts, surprised at how lewd this author was. Their writing was filthy and degenerate yet written fairly well. If he wasn’t so sleepy, Suguru was sure he could jerk off to a story or two. The comments under the posts were just as feral, people going crazy over the fanfictions, often proclaiming their desire to be with these…fictional men? He didn’t quite understand it but who was he to judge.

He paused as he read the title of a post, letting out a hum as the title hit a bit close to home.

Reader gets pounded roughly by her two boyfriends.

It was a post with thousands of notes which got Suguru curious. He clicked on the tag labelled #two boyfriends and was surprised to see several stories written by the author of the reader having two lovers and their sexual escapades together:

Reader gets both her holes stuffed with cock. Or the two boyfriends compete to see who can get her to squirt first. Reader is spanked silly and can’t sit properly for days. As punishment, the two boyfriends overstimulate the reader for hours, making her cum over and over again even as she begged them to stop.

The list went on and on and on, making the blood rush to Suguru’s cheeks at how raw and filthy and…desperate these fanfictions were.

His phone dinged, a message from Satoru which reminded the black-haired man of how he wound up here to begin with. So there are some smutty fiction online, but what does it have to do with you? He could only come up with one conclusion but…that couldn’t be it. Right?

Satoru <3 : Did you see all the two boyfriends fics?

Me : Yeah. You’re not saying that…she wrote all of this, are you?

Suguru waited with bated breath as the three dots danced on his screen, Satoru typing out the answer. You were someone who refused to even curse in daily conversation! There was no way… He choked as he got a response, Satoru simply saying:

What do you say we show our baby how much better her real boyfriends are?

~~~~~

“Boys!” you whined as Suguru and Satoru stuck close to you, one on either side, “I’m trying to cook here!” “We’re not stopping you!” Satoru said with a pout as he placed his cheek on top of your hair, “We just wanna be close to our baby. Is that so bad?” “Exactly.” Suguru purred as a hand came up to wrap around your waist, pressing himself close to you, “Is loving you such a crime?”

You rolled your eyes at their theatrics. One thing worse than having one dramatic boyfriend would be having two. Not that you were complaining, of course. How on Earth could you be upset over having the two most powerful sorcerers be your lovers? It sometimes felt like a dream- that these two had fallen in love with you and were over by your place for a domestic night of homecooked food and movies. They were more clingy than usual, a hand or lips always on your body at all times. You caught them exchanging glances with each other once in awhile but you simply ignored it. It wasn’t the first time your men had this telepathic communication going on between them. As long as they weren’t planning on pranking you, you decided to simply focus on the meal you were cooking.

“So, babe,” Satoru purred as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You’re on Tumblr a lot, right?”

You scoffed, “You know I am. Why’d you ask? You finally wanna join?”

“I sure do!” he responded, “And if you had told me about all the porn that was on that website, I would have joined sooner.”

“Porn?” you repeated, confused, “What are you talking about? It doesn’t allow-”

“All of that smutty fanfiction- I was up all night reading them!”

You froze, hoping that the two of them didn’t notice. “Oh, uh, yeah there’s a lot of that.”

“And, you know, we found this…writer.” Suguru said, his voice dripping like honey as his hand ran up and down your waist, “Who writes the most…filthy things. Degradation, spankings, brat taming, not to mention threesomes between two men and a woman. Kind of similar to us, right?”

You gulped, trying to focus on your food even though your mind was running a mile. Did they know? How did they find out? You were so careful of your things! You always made sure to have an eye on your phone and laptop so how did they…

“Well, only the threesome parts.” Satoru said, “We’re not nearly as kinky as the people in those stories. We could be, of course, but we wouldn’t want to scare our baby with how…intense we can be, right?”

“Of course.” Suguru purred, leaning forward to kiss your temple, his lips soft against your skin, “Our sweet princess is so innocent and vanilla. How on Earth can we treat her like the girls in those smutty, dirty stories? We have to make love to her like the Queen she is. There’s no way our baby would like to be punished or have her pussy filled until she’s bred.”

“Exactly.” Satoru said, noting the way your breathing was quickening, smiling as he saw your ears turn red, “Unless…there’s something she’s not telling us.” You gasped as his hand trailed down your back, making you shiver before it landed on your ass. You mewled as he grabbed a cheek harshly, his fingers digging into your plush skin, both of them so close to you that you could feel their hot breath against your burning face.

“So, sweetheart.” Suguru said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned off the heat of the stove, gently taking your utensils out of your hands, “Anything you’d like to share?”

You gulped, Satoru squeezing you greedily and making it difficult for you to form sentences, “H-How did you find out?”

“Well, I might have peeked at your phone when you left it unlocked yesterday.” Satoru confessed, “I wasn’t planning on looking but when I saw the notification of someone begging you to write more of your threesome content, well, curiosity got the better of me.”

“Our baby has such naughty fantasies,” Suguru said, not giving you a chance to respond “But she kept it all to herself like a bad little girl. Why didn’t you tell us?” he leaned down to nibble at your ear, loving the cute yelp you let out, “Did you think we’d judge you?”

“I- I don’t know…” you mumbled, face so red it felt like steam was coming out your ears, “It’s…embarrassing- ah!” Suguru moved downwards and kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the sensitive patch of your skin, making you cry out loud. Satoru pouted before he let go of your ass, only to swing his hand down and give your butt a sharp slap, making you yell loudly.

“We could have been fucking you like the dirty slut you are, but instead, we held ourselves back because we didn’t want to scare you off.” Satoru growled, his hand making its way to your hair, grabbing a handful before he pulled harshly. You gasped as your head was tossed back, your boyfriends face looking down on you as his grip on your hair continued to be tight and unforgiving.

“Every time we fuck you- we’ve wanted to go wild.” Suguru confessed, his large hand slipping into your shirt, making you shiver as he touched your bare skin, “So next time, just be honest and save us the trouble, hmm?”

“You’re going to make it up to us.” Satoru said, leaning down to kiss your lips, a quick peck before he pulled away, a dark look in his eyes, “Get ready. We’re making those fantasies come true.”

~~~~~

Your hands trembled, instinctively tugging at the handcuffs that held you tight against the headboard. The cool metal dug into your skin, showing no signs of letting up. Hands handcuffed above your bed, naked as the day you were born, you were at the mercy of your two men and they made sure of that.

Suguru giggled at your cute little yelp as he increased the speed of the vibrator, his grip of the wand tightening before he pressed it down harder on your clit. You screamed around Satoru’s cock, the man’s dick shoved down your throat, making you gag. He was practically straddling your head, knees on either side of your shoulders while Suguru sat between your spread legs, their eyes greedily taking in your nakedness.

“Yeah? You like that?” Satoru asked, looking down at you with a teasing grin on his face, sweat dripping down his brow. He was naked, veins throbbing in his arms as he gripped onto the headboard tightly, rolling his hips into your face, groaning at the sensation of you trying your best to take his fat dick. “You like that vibrator on your slutty little pussy, don’t you? Hmm? Like having my cock down your throat?” he asked, pausing his thrusting for a second to fully press his cock deep inside you, laughing as he felt you gag loudly around him.

“Oh, she loves it~” Suguru purred, dick aching in his boxers (wearing nothing but his underwear) as he ground the wand vibrator against you, mercilessly attacking your clit, “Her cunt is dripping~”

“Poor baby~ You must be so pent up since we’ve been making love to you like you were a princess. Guess we have to fuck you like a whore, hmm?” Satoru asked, biting his lower lip as he started thrusting into your mouth again. His muscles tensed, tossing his head back to moan as your sweet little tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, his heavy balls pressing against your chin every time he thrust.

“Stay. Still.” Suguru said with a click of his tongue as one arm gripped onto your knee tightly, the other still torturing you with the vibrator, “Keep moving your legs like that and I’ll punish you.”

You whined, your sounds taken by Satoru’s member, your body getting overstimulated. With a fat cock down your throat and Suguru playing with your pussy, you couldn’t help but start trembling, trying to push your legs together to give yourself a break from the onslaught on your cunt- but Suguru was having none of that.

He ignored your yelp as he pulled the vibrator away, taking away your pleasure so suddenly. But you barely had time to process that as he raised his hand and brought it down on your pussy, giving it a harsh, tight slap. You screamed from the pain, the vibrations of your mouth making Satoru moan as Suguru started spanking your pussy again and again. Slap after slap rained down on your cunt, the raven-haired man holding one leg tightly by the ankle while pushing away the other with his knee, truly keeping you spread as he spanked your pussy.

Your whole body writhed from the pain, the stinging sensation of Suguru marking your puffy pussy lips red. Your hands struggled against the handcuffs even more, your torso tossing and turning, Satoru giving you some mercy as he gently pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“Sorry! Fuck- I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your gasps and coughs, and crying as Suguru slapped your cunt so hard it made you dizzy for a second, “Please- no more!”.

“No more what?”

“No more spankings- P-Please! Please don’t s-spank my p-pussy!” you begged, ears turning red from the embarrassment. You heard Satoru giggle above you, the man clearly more sadistic than you ever imagined as he tugged at his member, enjoying the scene of his best friend breaking you down perfectly. Even him touching himself right in front of you was torturous, your eyes homing in on the precum dripping out of his red tip, his cock covered in your saliva.

“I thought you liked it, baby.” Suguru said, taking some mercy on you as he gently rubbed your cunt, easing some of the burn, “Your characters get their pussy’s spanked so often. Don’t you feel bad for them if it hurts so much?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You sobbed, “It hurts- fuck- but it hurts so good!”

“Fuuuck Baby!” Satoru groaned, gripping the base of his cock tightly, his face red and excited, “Almost came from that~ I love seeing you look so pathetic for us.”

You whimpered, turning your face to feel Satoru’s warmth as he gently wiped a tear away from your eye. Suguru chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss to your cunt, your skin hot against his lips. Your back arched as he ran his tongue up your pussy, the man groaning as he tasted your slick, drinking you down like a drug.

“Oh~ I want a taste of that pussy too~” Satoru purred before he changed his position. Your eyes widened as he turned around, adjusting himself so his cock was once again over your face only now, he was facing your pussy in a classic 69. “Open up, princess.” He said, smirking as he pushed his cock into your mouth just as you opened your lips, “Suck my cock while we- oh yeah- play with this pussy~”

Satoru grabbed the back of your thighs, holding onto you tightly as he dipped his head between your legs, Suguru moving out of the way so his friend could mouth at your pussy. You squealed around his cock, the man already starting to thrust as he wrapped his lips around your clit before he sucked harshly. “Mmmph- fuck yes~” he moaned, lightly picking up the pace as he once again started fucking your throat, “This pussy is so fucking tasty~”

He opened his mouth wide and started flicking his tongue on your clit, letting out a lewd sound as he tortured your sensitive bud with his tongue. Not one to sit idly by, Suguru allowed his friend to tongue your cunt while he gently slid a finger inside you.

“Look at that. My finger went in so easily, baby.” Suguru said as he gently thrust the finger in and out of you, “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”

You whined around Satoru’s cock, unable to respond. But they understood. Suguru slid a second finger inside you, the slick sound of your cunt parting for him echoing through the air lewdly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers inside you just right, pussy gushing from the sensation. Satoru was still licking at your clit, giving your bud the occasional nibble to keep you on edge.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Suguru asked as he watched Satoru lick you up, his own fingers drenched, your juices dripping down, “Cock in your mouth as we play with your pussy like you’re our little toy~ Our sweet little fuck toy we can use?”

Your toes curled and your muscles tensed, opening your throat up as much as possible as Satoru mercilessly face fucked you, his balls slapping against you as he chased his pleasure. The metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your fingers clenching around nothing as you were driven closer and closer to your orgasm.

You were so close you could taste it, your mind descending into nothing but pleasure, the two men perfectly breaking you down into the slut they know you are. You fantasised about them as you wrote your fanfiction and for it to actually be coming true- you didn’t know how to handle it.

You were so close- so close! Your body tightened and your pussy clenched around Suguru’s fingers, the familiar sensation of an orgasm making itself known. You already knew this would be one of the strongest climaxes you’d experience and it almost scared you. But you were ready. You wanted this. You needed this. You needed them!

Your moans picked up the pace, getting louder and louder around Satoru’s cock, still obediently sucking him off as your body trembled. You were gonna cum! Cumming- cumming-

Only for them to stop.

You let out a scream as Satoru pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of them able to hear your shouts. You arched off the bed, your body trembling from the sudden absence of pleasure, your legs kicking at the mattress like a toddler as you writhed on the bed.

“Why? Why- I was so close- so close!” you sobbed, tugging at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to touch yourself, only for it to be futile.

“Aww, poor princess.” Satoru cooed, kneeling over you still, his cock dripping your saliva back onto his face lewdly, “did you really think it would be that easy?”

“We’re going to edge you all night.” Suguru said, finally undoing his boxers before pushing it off, getting completely naked, “It’s your punishment for keeping your sluttiness a secret from us.”

You could barely muster up a protest as you were distracted by Suguru’s cock. His cock was just as beautiful as Satoru’s- long, thick and oh so delicious. He took your breath away everytime he got inside you, his skills rendering you a whining mess.

“If you try and cum without us knowing,” Suguru said, knowing your body like the back of your hand and well aware that you were close to your orgasm, “You’re going to be in a world of pain. Now come on. Beg for it.” He started teasingly slapping your pussy with his member, each strike making you twitch, “You know how to beg, right? Your characters beg so sweetly in your stories- I’m sure you can do it too~”

You gulped, mouth drooling and pussy trembling, their hard cocks right in front of you but refusing to get inside you. “P-Please.” You pleaded, feeling a rush of shame overcome you by uttering the word. “Do better than that.” Suguru said, his hand now on his member and lightly stroking it, showing you what you were missing out on. “I- Fuck- I need you! Both of you!” you said desperately. “Keep going~” Satoru purred, his tip just a hairs breath away from your lips, also close to orgasm, “what do you need?” “I need- fuck- I need your c-cocks!” you begged, tears in your eyes as you shamelessly conveyed your desires, “I need you inside me- I need you to fuck me!” “Good girl.” Suguru said, groaning as he finally- finally- started to push inside you, “And remember. No cumming.”

You tossed your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Suguru started spreading you apart, inch after inch burying into your sopping cunt. It was a delicious sensation, his cock stretching you out wonderfully, his thick cock giving you a nice burn. Suguru hissed as his dick was enveloped in your tight wetness, the texture of your pussy walls hugging it perfectly. His balls clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last long- the feeling of finally being able to treat you like the kinky slut you were driving him to the edge. They don’t call him a pleasure dom for nothing.

Without even saying anything, Satoru took advantage of your open mouth to jam his dick back inside your mouth, laughing at the surprised yelp and loud gag you let out. “I’m close baby~” he moaned as he was surrounded by your addicting heat again, “Make sure you drink it all when I cum down this slutty mouth pussy~”

They both started to fuck you mercilessly at once. And all you could do was lie there and take it. Suguru made you wrap your legs against his waist, leaning into you as he started pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you each time he thrust into you. Your pussy was so wet and hot- the sensation like a drug as he pounded you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck- I love this fucking pussy!” he groaned, tossing his head back as he mercilessly pounded you, chasing his pleasure, “So perfect for us- so greedy and desperate- want to fucking ruin you!”

“Mmm~ I can’t wait to fuck this slutty cunt~” Satoru said between moans, fucking down on your mouth as a hand came up to spread apart your pussy lips, giving him a perfect view of Suguru fucking your hole. “Pass me the vibrator, will you?”

You yelped, knowing exactly what he had planned as Satoru got a hold of the vibrator, switched it on before he placed it against your clit. You screamed around his cock, body thrashing at the overstimulation. The toy rubbed against your clit, the speed on the highest setting, making your vision blurry as he assaulted your sensitive bud.

“Fuck- oh yeah- that’s fucking great!” Suguru moaned, the vibration of the toy giving him added pleasure as well, “she tightened around me so much- fuck- slutty little pussy!”

You were in heaven and hell. The two men were using you in such a filthy fashion, making your body tremble from the intense pleasure. Suguru was fucking you so perfectly, his cock hitting your g-spot every time he thrust into you, your pleasure heightened by Satoru playing with your clit. He’d use the toy or sometimes even lean down to lick at your clit again, his hair brushing against Suguru’s abdomen every time he thrust forward. They were both so desperate and horny for you and it was amazing.

But, every time you were close, they’d stop.

You didn’t even need to say it- your moans and your body language was enough for them to know when you were about to cum and every time, without fail, they’d ruin your orgasm. Suguru would pull out and Satoru would stop playing with your clit, opting to slap your pussy and call it a ‘bad cunt’ as he took your climax away from you. Suguru once pinched your clit so harshly you swore you blacked out. Once they thought you weren’t going to cum, they’d get back into it.

“Oh baby!” Satoru moaned, finally reaching his climax. He forgoed the toy and instead focused on fucking your face, wanting to cum, “I’m close! Yes! Yes! Oh you naughty little minx! We’re going to have so much fucking fun with you!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you got pounded from both ends- your jaw beyond sore. With a few more thrusts, Satoru finally came. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly, his cock lodged as deep as it could go inside you. He started to cum down your throat, giving you no choice but to drink it all up. You could feel his balls clench against you as he came, his hot seed pouring down your throat, warming you up from the inside.

“Ohhh yesss!” Satoru moaned, his body shuddering as he gently thrust his hips, milking his balls of every drop, “That’s it- oh yes~ That’s a good slut~”

You gagged around him, struggling to breathe and to drink down his cum, happy to have given him pleasure but distracted by Suguru still pounding into you. You were waiting for Satoru to get off of you and give your jaw some peace but…

He once again got his face close to your pussy, resting his elbows on the mattress and his chin on his hands as he stared like a pervert as Suguru fucking your cunt.

“Enjoying the show?” Suguru asked with a laugh, his body running a bit hotter at Satoru staring.

“Mmhmm,” Satoru said with a smile before he addressed you, “Keep cockwarming me, baby. Get me hard again so I can fuck this pussy next~”

Oh. Oh God.

“Fuck- I’m close!” Suguru groaned through gritted teeth, “And she’s close too- I can feel it!”

“Yeah?” Satoru asked, rolling his hips in a circle as he leisurely enjoyed your mouth like it was a fleshlight, “Should we let her cum? She’s been such a good girl for us.”

You whined around him, feeling like this entire night was you whining, trying your best to beg around Satoru’s cock in your mouth. You could feel him grow harder inside you, the sadist loving the fact that he made you so pathetic.

“Nah.” Suguru said, sweating as he pounded you mercilessly, “Not yet.”

“You hear that, baby?” Satoru asked, “You better not cum~”

You sobbed, tears pouring down your cheeks as they decided to continue torturing you.

“You gonna cum inside her?” Satoru asked his friend, knowing him well enough to know he was about to cum. “Fuck- I want to so fucking badly but- I don’t think she deserves it yet!”  “Awww, the poor thing. She has such a huge breeding kink too!” “I know. Fuck- I’d love to dump inside this cunt and breed her but- fuck- I still think she needs to learn her lesson! Naughty little sluts who keep things from their boyfriends gets fucking punished! Oh fuck- yes- cumming- I’m cumming!”

With a shout, once again denying you your orgasm, Suguru quickly pulled out of you with the intention of finishing on you. “Fuck- Satoru!” Suguru moaned as the white haired man suddenly grabbed his member and started jerking him off. Satoru laughed at Suguru’s moans, his hand almost a blur as he jacked off his best friend, aiming the tip right at your pussy. In a matter of seconds, Suguru let out a loud moan as he came, tossing his head back as the pleasure hit him like a truck. He trembled as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock, his balls clenching with each pump as he came all over your pussy. He stained your cunt white, making you whine as all of that cum wasn’t pumped inside you.

“Oh~ Look at all that cum on this pretty pussy~” Satoru moaned, letting go of Suguru to instead pet at your pussy, his fingers rubbing the cum into your skin before he collected a bit of it on his fingers to shove inside you. You gasped, body still on edge, your mind a mess of pleasure and humiliation as Satoru stuffed his friends cum into your pussy. He took some mercy on you and pulled his cock out of your mouth, enjoying your gasps and moans as you took in deep breaths, choking on your own spit as he got off of you.

“Please!” you begged, crying and you voice hoarse, “Please- Please let me cum! I need it! I’ll do anything!”

“Shhhh, relax, princess.” Suguru cooed as he and Satoru switched places, the white haired man settling between your legs with his cock hard once more, eager to fuck your cunt. You whimpered and cried as Suguru lied down next to you, his dick still hard and ready for more as he leaned down to kiss you, a sweet moment among all the depravity.

His hand gripped a breast, squeezing your boob as he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth and making your body tingle from the sensation. He finally parted just as Satoru slipped his dick inside you, smiling as he watched your eyes water and your jaw drop from the sensation.

“Don’t start crying already, baby.” Suguru said, watching as your body started to bounce up and down from Satoru’s thrusts, Satoru immediately fucking you in a fast pace, “We’ve only just begun~”

[iheartmoons]

so i was thinking about mickey and ian’s different ways of expressing love. people constantly say that ian is undeserving of mickey’s love because of how much louder it is, and admittedly i prefer mickeys way of loving plot-wise, but i don’t think it’s true. i think it’s SO interesting how ian’s love is softer and quieter whereas mickeys is loud and big because… it’s quite literally the opposite of who they are. hear me out.

early seasons mickey can’t have anyone find out, needs someone who is willing to love quietly. we all remember how bad ian was at hiding his crush on mickey in season one, right? and ian ISNT a quiet person about his feelings - sure he was off his meds, but gay jesus??? mickeys wedding?? but ian IS quieter for mickey. he expresses his love through head kisses and hugs and even when he goes to mexico, ian doesnt tell anyone where he's going. because ian is used to mickey wanting things on the DL. (and yes also because he was throwing his life away and wasn’t thinking)

now lets look at ian - he makes it clear from the beginning that he needs someone who's gonna loudly express their love for him unafraid. sure, he’s able to accommodate for a while with kash and mickey because he understands that being gay isn’t easy for some people, but eventually he gets frustrated that mickey can’t own up to his feelings. now you might say that mickey is a loud person who expresses his opinions a lot, but really when it comes to love, mickey hated being loud and actually struggled to tell ian himself how he felt. but because ian needs someone who loves loudly, mickey BECOMES that.

this is only one interpretation of many, but i think the parallels are fucking cool

[multifandom-pleasures]

shadow x reader

A/N: i’m a sucker for shadow, as well as hozier; so this was a tangent of how i imagine him to feel when in a relationship. also very heavily based on hozier’s song ‘too sweet’.

he didn’t know what he did in his life to ever deserve you. he’d done many things he wasn’t proud of, his morals weren’t entirely aligned; if at all aligned; with yours. you were kind, and patient, and gentle. everything he was not. but you had still chosen him. the muddled mess of mobian and black arm, his dna a mesh of emotion and violence that had his mind in constant clashing within itself.

any other person would have been infinitely better, would have given you the adoration and worship you deserved without the trauma like which he held. trauma that made him would lose his patience, snap at you with fangs bared, the constant anger that festered in his chest released at you - sweet and undeserving. yet, you still remained. waited until his fit dwindled down and the guilt ate at him, where you held him in your arms and assured him; told him you knew his words were empty and untruthful. and they were. he just couldn’t hold back his tongue when his frustrations built.

you were sweet. sickeningly so, it made his stomach ache and his teeth hurt. but like the delicacy that you were he couldn’t help coming back for more. you allowed him to touch you, hold you, kiss you; all of which he would have never found himself longing for. he’d heard of the fantasies called love, stories read in his home back on the ark, and he could never have envisioned himself as the knight in shining armor; of the handsome prince finding his princess. much less when he awoke on earth with a burning hate and want for vengeance.

then you sauntered along, like you knew exactly what it was he was missing, and gave him the kindness he never deserved. even as he scoffed and snarked at you, insulted you with things that were never true, you persevered. you came back like a migraine; which he called you on many occasions. each time you smiled, like it was a compliment, and stuck alongside him in whatever he did. he found himself to enjoy your company. you talked, and talked, and talked and he listened. you filled in the silence with your voice, quieting the constant one in his mind. he found himself searching for you on the days you didn’t visit him yourself.

you confessed to him first. of course, you had. as your poured your heart to him all he could think of was how much he didn’t deserve you; how could you love a creature like him? you hadn’t even seen the worst of it. and so, as he was prone to doing, he pushed you away. insisted you were confused, mistaking the appreciation of company for love; that you must have been the loneliest person on the whole pathetic planet if you found yourself to liking him. you were idiotic to ever think he would return such a declaration.

you were too good for him, too kind and empathetic and he would only hurt you; he would hate to hurt you. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he had.

and you smiled. it was teary, wobbly as he broke your heart then mended it together again. he could feel his chest heave and tremble as you reached out for him, frozen still as your fingers grazed his cheek, then your palm as you held it. he crumbled. you; sweet, loving, and ever-patient you. he would have never thought of himself to be one brought to tears but all the time you had spent carefully, intricately unbuilding his walls; that was the last chip you needed to whittle off to break the dam.

he curled over you, trembling as he clung onto you and held you against his chest. he was sure he was suffocating you in his hold but you didn’t object, stroking along his back and not uttering a word as he simply held you. he couldn’t find the words to speak, to begin to apologize nor return the grand gesture that was your confession; and you didn’t expect it. because you knew him, the hug was more than enough for the time being.

in any way; he knew you knew you had managed to wiggle your way into his heart without him ever even knowing. made him weak against you, wrapped around your pretty little finger and he was never objected to it. he was yours long before you were ever his. and selfishly so, as undeserving as he was, he wouldn’t want it any either way. and you wouldn’t either.

and so while he didn’t know what he did to ever deserve you; he made a vow to himself, and to you, that he would love you with every fiber that was his being. even with his temper, his hatred, his indifference to much that surrounded him; he would never do a thing to hurt you. you were his morality, his beloved; who loved him just as much, but (to him) never more, than he loved you. and the kind, and gentle, and patient being that was you, would nurture that was in his creation and lead him to betterment.

because you had chosen him; and he would worship you.

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 4

sorry this didn't get out sooner; my sleep issues are really upset (might be daylight savings?) and i spent most of the past few days feeling like a zombie. i'm better now though! it's also a bit shorter than i'd like, but i didn't want to leave you guys hanging. also two fics? in one day?? crazy!

part 1 part 2 part 3 genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, yandere has officially escalated word count: 897

“Child of man,” Malleus said. Even his voice felt suffocating. “Lilia has informed me that some… pests have been bothering you as of late.” He must mean the others. Did he really not know? Well, you supposed it wasn’t too farfetched, since he didn’t have any friends and everyone was afraid of him, especially after his Overblot. “You need only have let me know and I would have… taken care of them. But worry not. You’ll be safe here, where no one would dare to harm you.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. It was finally happening. Malleus had lost his mind. It felt a little nice, you’d admit, knowing that at least one person still cared for you. But that didn’t mean you could accept being trapped here for who knows how long. You still had to take care of Grim and attend classes. Not to mention you hated feeling trapped.

You knew you couldn’t count on anyone to save you. Lilia was the only one who might be able to make him see reason, but he seemed to be fully complicit in the matter. The dorm leaders might be somewhat capable if they worked together, but they’d have no motive for that, other than to torment you further.

Getting angry and yelling wouldn’t solve anything here. You had to be smart about it. “Tsunotarou, I can’t stay here. You know that,” you reasoned. “I have responsibilities to take care of. Besides, wouldn’t you grow tired of me? Everyone else did, after all.” You surprised yourself with how true your sentiments were. Maybe you harbored more negative feelings about all of this than you’d realized.

Naturally you were pissed that everyone turned on you, but you’d never really stopped to think about how lonely you’d been. Even your professors would hardly give you the time of day. You didn’t even know what you possibly could’ve done to set them off. Grim and the ghosts were the only ones whose attitudes never changed; but it wasn’t the same.

Malleus was pouting; there was simply no other way to describe the look on his face. “Surely you don’t mean that; not after everything they’ve done,” he quipped. Was he serious? In what way did he think you’d enjoy being trapped inside one tiny room for who knows how long?

“Yes. I do. And I don’t appreciate you taking away my freedom like this. If you really cared about me, you’d respect my wishes.” You hoped appealing to his emotions would work, no, you needed it to work. If it didn’t, you weren’t sure how long your sanity would last.

“I do care about you, Child of Man,” he objected. “Can’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? It isn’t safe out there. You’ll get hurt by those vile beings you once called friends.” He spat out that last word, like they were undeserving of the title. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was one thing you did know, however: this man was delusional. He’d gone paranoid with worries for your safety, even though he knew nothing just hours ago and was fine. He’d always been a little possessive, you’d noticed, but you’d brushed it off as him being afraid of losing his one and only friend. Now this? This was a whole new level.

Ah, but then you remembered. Malleus knew about most of the bullying, but not all of it. You doubted Lilia would’ve tattled on his own dorm members. You smiled, catching him off guard. “But am I any safer in here? I bet you don’t know, after all. You don’t know how Sebek would beat me in the halls, how Silver watches me everywhere I go. It’s creepy; I don’t like it. And I’m sure Lilia didn’t tell you how he tries to poison me with his cooking,” you listed calmly, as if you were having an ordinary conversation.

“They WHAT?!” Malleus shouted. “LILIA! SILVER! SEBEK! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!” You flinched; he was usually so calm, you didn’t expect him to suddenly yell like that. It was good that he believed you, not that you were lying. You didn’t have a backup plan.

As the unfortunate trio entered the room, you made your way over to the door. You thought you’d managed to slip out unnoticed, but Lilia shot you a wink. Did that mean he’d keep his mouth shut about your escape? You could only hope.

You ran through the halls, Malleus’s shouting covering up the sounds of your footfalls. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so you weren’t at risk of getting lost. The only question was how long the lecture would last. If you were lucky, Lilia would buy you some time, but you wouldn’t count on it.

And then, at last, you were safe, on the other side of the portal. You were totally winded, after having had the run of your life. Everything seemed great, but then you heard a voice.

“Oya? What do we have here? What were you doing in Diasomnia, prefect?” Jade asked with a definitely fake smile like he didn’t know exactly what you were doing in Diasomnia. Oh, great. Azul was with him too. How… lovely. Staying with Malleus was starting to sound like it wasn’t so bad after all. No, nevermind. It was definitely worse.

taglist (CLOSED): @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx @trashlanternfish360 @probablynoposts @d3sperate-enuf @mono273 @help-whatdoimakemyusername @justuraverageeverydaydegenerate @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Hi! Can I please request 1 and 16 for Cassian x reader 🥹

“He treats me well-" "Okay good for you." "-but he isn't you."

Cassian x Reader

wc: 1.3k

a/n: so i couldn’t decide how i wanted to combine those 2 different prompts so i’m just writing 2 separate cassian fics i’m sorry. working on the other one right now, but for now here’s this!

warnings: angst, slight suggestiveness at the end

prompt list

Cassian was sick of it. He was sick of watching you date these undeserving males, fall in love with them, and then get your heart broken. Every single time, you run to him to console you. And every single time, he wipes away your tears and assures you that somewhere out there, there is someone who will love you and treat you right. Little do you know, he’s silently praying to the Mother that one day he can be that person for you. Not so silently, he prays that the stupid prick that broke your heart will drown in the Sidra, which usually earns a laugh from you.

Currently, Cassian was trying to keep the irritated expression off of his face as you told him about your most recent date with some new guy.

“He even paid for dinner! How sweet of him, right Cass?” You ask excitedly.

Bare fucking minimum, Cassian thought.

“That’s great y/n.” The words come out a bit more annoyed than intended, making you frown.

“What’s your problem?” You ask.

“Nothing.” He mutters.

“Bullshit, Cass. Did I do something to piss you off?” You try to think back over the past few hours to remember what you did to upset him, but nothing comes to mind.

“I just don’t really care to hear about yet another male that you think is your one true love, who will inevitably break your heart in a week.” You stare at him, stunned.

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to talk about my love life to my best friend.” You argue stubbornly. He lets out a laugh.

“I wouldn’t call getting broken up with every other month a love life, sweetheart.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.

“Fuck you, Cassian.” You storm off before he can even apologize.

———

Unsurprisingly, the new guy ended up being a jerk and stood you up the following evening. You had waited at the restaurant for over an hour, earning apologetic looks from the waitress.

Cassian tried to act casual while he sat on the couch at the House of Wind, waiting for you to return from your date. He picked up some random book that Azriel had left and began scanning the pages when you winnowed home. Cassian can’t help but let his eyes roam over you, admiring your stunning figure accentuated by your dress. As soon as his gaze reaches your face, he notices the tears threatening to spill and stands up immediately. He debates walking over to comfort you with a hug or letting you come to him, still unsure if you are mad at him.

“I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’ And I know you don’t want to hear about my dating life anymore, so I’m going to bed.” You rush from the room quickly, leaving Cassian alone once again.

Yeah, you’re definitely still mad. Cassian has to fight the urge to follow you. He knows how your brain spirals in these situations, blaming yourself and doubting your self-worth, all because of a stupid male. He wants so badly to go up to your room and console you. He wants to wipe your tears like always and say some idiotic joke to make you laugh. More than anything, he wants to reassure you that this isn’t your fault. But he can’t, so he just sighs and sits back on the couch, picking up the book again.

———

It had been a few weeks since you and Cassian had a proper conversation, both of you too stubborn break the silence first. There had been a few short exchanges, usually just during training or when others were around, but the tension was apparent to everyone.

Cassian had heard from Mor that Feyre set you up with one of her artist friends, Kallum. He can’t be mad at his High Lady for doing what she thinks is best for her friend, but gods he was pissed about it.

You had gone on several dates with him over the past few weeks. He overheard you telling Feyre about them, describing the romantic gesture that Kallum made recently.

Was this it? Would this be the male who finally stole his best friend from him for good? If this male is a friend of Feyre’s, he must be a good guy.

Cassian hurries past the sitting area, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but somehow you catch his eye. He can’t help but notice the flicker of sadness in your stare.

———

After four weeks of stubborn silence, you approach Cassian at training.

“Hey.” He turns to you, surprised.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He notices that you’re picking at your nails, a nervous habit from when you were a kid.

“So, I’m bringing Kallum to dinner tomorrow evening. To meet everyone.” You say awkwardly.

Oh.

“I know you and I are still in a weird place, but can you please be nice? I want to make a good impression and see what everyone thinks of him.” You bit your bottom lip nervously.

“Why do you care what we all think of him?” He huffs.

“Because I care what my family and friends think of the person I’m dating.” You counter defensively.

“Do you really? Or do you need us to like him in order to convince yourself you like him too?” You scowl, but Cassian has that stupid cocky smirk on his face. He’s not wrong, which only pisses you off more. You had tried desperately to like Kallum. He’s a nice guy and he seems to like you a lot, but you just couldn’t find a spark between you two.

“He’s a good guy Cassian!” Your face turns red and you are too flustered to come up with a more clever response.

“If you say so.” Cassian rolls his eyes. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not him.

“He is! He treats me well!” You argue.

“Okay, good for you.” He says sarcastically. You stay silent for a long moment. Cassian turns to leave, not wanting to argue any longer.

“He treats me well…but he isn’t you.” You say softly.

Cassian freezes. Surely, he misheard you. He turns back to face you and is faced with the vulnerable expression on your face.

“Seeing as you don’t seem to want to be my friend anymore, there’s no point in hiding it any longer.” He takes a long stride towards you and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re right. I don’t want to be friends anymore.” Cassian presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You melt into his touch and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss quickly turns heated, and you let out a soft moan. Cassian pulls away, and you give him a confused look.

“As much as I want to continue this, sweetheart, I plan to take you to dinner first. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated on a date.” He leans in close, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “And then maybe I can show you how you deserve to be treated in bed as well.” Your face turns bright red, and you nod. Cassian lets go of you, but you pull him in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the last.

“I should probably go break up with Kallum.” You giggle between kisses. Cassian growls at the mention of another male’s name and pulls you closer.

“That is the last breakup you are ever going to have. I’ve waited 500 years for this, I’m sure as hell not going to mess it up.”

Feel free to keep requesting prompts :-)

prompt list

[madockisser]

Hi, I just finished reading Queen of nothing and I was looking through the books again.

The scene with the faerie fruit in TCP Carden throws the salt away (the antidote), I find that quite odd

Although as he's returned human servants before pricking their fingers seems like an easier thing than making them eat something salted?

Maybe there's no significance to it, it's just something that sticks in my mind for that scene and wondered if you had any thoughts on it

short cardan analysis / why did cardan throw the salt

hi! i am not sure i understand the question completely, so feel free to send another ask abt this, but i assume that you’re wondering why he threw the salt in the first place? i doubled this as a short cardan analysis/ scene analysis! hope u don’t mind!

if you’re asking: why bother with the salt at all, when jude has salt in her blood? not sure, but salting food destroys ensorcellment on that food, so she has to keep it on her anyway, opposed to pricking her finger and putting her blood on her food lol, BUT as for cardan..

at the faerie fruit scene, cardan does not yet recognize his feelings for jude as anything that isn’t hatred.

since jude is consuming his every thought, he’s frustrated, and eager to make her obey him, because he thinks that when she submits to him, stops opposing him, that he can finally stop thinking of her.

and so, he pushes valerian off when he’s atop her, choking her, bc he never wanted her to die. that is very clear to him from the start, he never wants to be like dain. but it’s unclear to jude bc she’s biased.

holly states that if cardan were a better person that he would’ve found a way to stop his friends sooner, which is true, but unfortunately, because of his upbringing, he is not.

now, he throws the salt in the air scattering it among the grass, because finally, he thinks that under influence of the faerie fruit, jude is going to submit to him.

in part, he does want to see her humiliated, brought down low, for bringing him down low with her. another part of him does want to see her hurt.

which is obvious. cardan hurts and humiliates faeries throughout the high and low courts. it’s just what he does.

but as the events progress, as nicasia makes her undress and humiliates her further, cardan finds himself irrationally upset.

because it turns out that cardan does not in fact like seeing jude hurt or like seeing her humiliated as he thought.

bc he hadn’t recognized his feelings for her yet. until i suspect, now, due to this scene.

anyway, i must sum up cardans character to help ppl understand, prince cardan acted as though he had no heart for a long time, to protect himself. because when he did act like he had a heart, ppl hurt him. his mother, dain, balekin, nicasia, locke even.

and so by pretending to not feel for jude made things easier, but when they both clashed and fought, he realized more and more how jude takes up his every thought, even when she shouldn’t. even when he was w nicasia.

and when jude was hurt and humiliated, he realized not just the surface level feelings of desrire, but how much he cared for her. how much he didn’t want to see her hurt, see her humiliated.

opposed to the many folk he hurt and humiliated and cast from court. bc jude was different. she wasn’t a courtier that bowed and smiled and faked at flattery, which he grew to find insufferable and angering.

she found him undeserving of princely treatment, and tried her hardest at fitting in, even when she very clearly was human. even when he thought that it was pointless and ridiculous.

cardan finds jude fascinating for many of her qualities, but as we see in htkoelths, this is one of them. and one of the first qualities in her that catches his eye. her determination. her unwillingness to give up and to submit.

which he didn’t understand, bc he’s fae and a prince and he doesn’t have to fit in, and she was a human and a bastard, so why put any effort into anything at all? why work hard for a short life? cardan does not understand humans, he’s a child, and he only interacted w glamoured humans before her and val moren.

anyway, it seems that jude and taryn were mostly left alone in gentry classes by cardan specifically, while valerian would harass jude himself (ex: when he stole her pen and madoc replaced it w a ruby one). until taryn started seeing locke which made nicasia upset.

that is when they full on started harassing them.

at this point cardan cared for nicasia(despite the cheating) which he admitted he hurt jude and taryn for her sake when he was kidnapped by jude,, but as a facade he pretended at wanting to hurt the twins just for funsies.

until he didn’t anymore, and it was fueled by jude’s “audacity” to fight back, and his hatred-desire for her.

meanwhile, valerian was struggling w the same hatred desire. except like 1000x more twisted and sick. bc he truly wanted to hurt and kill her. he is very unseelie.

and nicasia is searching for any opportunity to bring the twins low for taking locke from her.

and locke wants to make a game out of hurting taryn and jude and nicasia AND cardan (LOL) bc he knows that cardan wants jude, so he starts “seeing her” which drives literally everyone; taryn, nicasia, cardan, and perhaps even valerian mad (LOL) bc he’s a cunt

BUT the point i’m trying to make is that cardans friends ARE NOT really his friends bc they all wanna hurt him. intentionally or not. if it sates their desires then they’ll take it.

if cardan had started showing his care for jude.. i mean. it would be over. they already want an excuse to hurt jude as is, cardans just a bonus. and locke was actively already doing that, since he was the only one who had yet realized how cardan felt for her. if nicasia and valerian had realized?

i don’t think jude would’ve survived. but i do think that valerian did sorta know that cardan wanted her, but i think when he realized it was more than lust was when he crashed out and went to kill her.

why? bc, jude had always payed singular attention to cardan when they were harassing jude and taryn as a group, but to jude it was all “i hate cardan i hate cardan” and for cardan it was all “i hate jude i hate jude”

and valerian wanted jude, he wanted her to be as affected by his hurting her as it did when cardan hurt her. but it never did.

i think he realized this and crashed out and got high and tried to kill her.

so in short, i think he threw the salt as a guise to his buddies, to 1, appear as though he didn’t have a heart (like usual) so that they wouldn’t realize he cared for her and hurt her more bc of it, and 2, he knew jude’s blood has salt content, so he could always (and did) resort to that, and 3 bc he thought that he wanted jude hurt and humiliated, but as it was happening, he didn’t like it and began realizing how he truly felt for her

below are holly blacks official annotations, which are canon, so pls read the pen markings!! very important!!

this was SUPER messy i literally just threw this together the second i saw it so i’m sorry! hope this helped tho!! 🫶🫶🫶 feel free to add on!

[fairene]

divine / ln sneak peek

sneak peek for a new lando x fem!reader oneshot 😏

warning: minors dni!!, language, smut (not in this sneak peek, but there will be.)

hoping to stay consistent. reader's dress is inspired by phoebe dynevor's met gala gown, but always up to you on what she wears. the color is only mentioned once throughout the piece.

as always, i am open to taking requests. don't be afraid to hit me up hehe 💗 this should be posted within the next few days...!!

“look at you,” lando stood to his feet this time, entirely too enamoured to stay seated patiently like a dog on the couch. he approached you from behind on the pedestal, his fingers careful as he traced up the fabric around your hips, your back. you shivered into his touch. 

the dress had been a light pink, blush tone, sheer fabric with embroidered flowers. it had a long train behind it, fabric over a shoulder, sewn and stitched in a myriad of ways that you couldn’t follow. it was utterly perfect against your skin. it wasn’t too tight, but it was form fitting enough to be appropriate. around your breasts was where the embroidery thickened, covering your nipples from the light breeze in imola’s air. 

“do you like it?” you breathed, turning your head over your shoulder to lando who was dazed as he stared at you in the mirror. he turned his head to look up at you from your heightened position on the platform. there were no words that could convey the look in his eyes– sheer heat, desire, love– that he had for you. 

he swallowed. his pants were painfully hard around his cock. 

you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on. the only one who could make him turn his head, make him drool, have him fall to his knees. and in this dress, especially. 

“baby,” he sighed, controlling his hands the best he could from wanting to rip it off of you, fuck you in this wardrobe. “you’re divine.”

you blushed, turning your head away from him. he always had you like this. speechless, puddy in his hands. you were entirely susceptible to his charm, and it had you melting at every twist and corner of his beautifully shaped lips. 

“i have something for you,” he whispered, getting your attention back on him when he offered his hand for you to step down from the pedestal. you took it, eyes widening with wonder at what he could possibly have. you raised a brow, letting your same hand grip onto his forearm. 

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. the chain was long, but modest, and had a glowing diamond emblem embellished at the center. stable so it didn’t fling around the entire chain. you gawked as he held it out for you. you shifted closer to him until your body was perpendicular to his, your shoulder brushing into his chest. 

it was a necklace that had his “ln4” logo on it. imbued with diamonds. 

your fingers reached out to trace the beautiful charm, the weight of the diamonds alone was absolutely intimidating. you felt undeserving of such a piece, but prideful that he wanted it to be yours. 

“lan,...” you were breathless when you turned to look up at him, his pupils dilating with yours meeting his. “it’s beautiful.” 

“you said you’ve been looking for necklaces,” that was true. your neck had been far too bare. “and i’m too selfish to let you walk around without a part of me.” 

you smiled. his honesty was always refreshing. his devoting nature was so unnatural, but it was so homely. you loved him. every part of him. 

“turn around for me, love.” he kept a hand on your hip when you spun, chills flying up your spine when you felt his fingers around your neck. you gulped, arching your back when you felt the contact. so receptive, he wanted to say, but held his tongue. 

he was swift with the clasp but he let his fingers trail down your exposed back, sheathed lightly by the fabric. you bit your lip to consolidate any noise, but were becoming riled with his hands on you. 

the necklace glimmered in the mirror when you stared agape. it sat perfectly at the center of your chest, unable to be missed by any passerby. you were his. lando norris’ girlfriend. his entire life. 

“i love it,” you murmured, your fingers gracing the pendant. you turned around and threw yourself into his arms. he caught you like he always did, arms wrapping around your waist with a deadly grip. but you would die happily here, you thought. in his strong arms, loved, and content. 

“you’re sure?” he questioned when his head burrowed into the side of your neck. he was nervous that you wouldn’t, thinking that he may have gone too far. 

your hands found his cheeks, raising his head to meet your eyes. 

“i love it.” you smiled. “want everyone to know ‘m yours.”

god

he was going to fuck you right there. right here. 

if not here, then tonight. tonight he would ruin you. bring you to tears around his cock, his fingers, his tongue. if there was one thing about him, it's that he knew how you worked. it would only take you minutes to come, record time for any man that’s laid his hands on you. no one compared to lando.

and he was going to fuck you so you knew it. 

SMIRKS

[lovelyo]

Cressida Torture Porn

RANT INCOMING: What the absolute fuck is wrong with this show and their love for torturing Cressida? Do they get off in making this girl suffer? If I was in her position, I would go apeshit too.

All this girl wants is a genuine connection, to be valued and all people do is knock her down. She lashes out horribly on people just like Penelope, but she’s punished while Penelope is considered a girlboss even though Cressida’s home environment is shittier than Penelope’s. Her hope from her suffocating fate was Eloise only for Eloise to push her to the side for a friend who lied to her for years and screwed her over. Got called a viper (EVEN THOUGH ELOISE KNOWS WHO LW IS! 🤬🤡) by the person she always wanted to befriend even before Eloise fell out with Penelope.

Cressida saved Eloise from loneliness but Eloise didn’t reciprocate when Cressida was in need. Even then, she liked Eloise so much that before she left to get shipped away to even a more emotionally absent relative, she wanted to reconcile with Eloise, but Eloise closed the chapter. She tried to say goodbye to Eloise before she left. Eloise didn’t even bother to look Cressida’s way when she left.

All for Penelope who has done considerably more damage to her than anyone. 😐😑

It was the first time ever I was genuinely upset at Eloise. Eloise knew about Cressida’s ordeal but still vilified her and abandon her like she was a side piece(ain’t far from the truth really). Eloise unfortunately had to drink the OOC Koolaid for Penelope to get her HEA. This made me despise Penelope more btw. While everyone is in a damn romantic sitcom catering to Pen, Cressida is fighting for her life in this SAW trap where it’s do or get fucked.

Cressida was a bitch throughout the show until we came upon her reasonings in S3 which made her more of a sympathetic character than Penelope ever was. We should feel bad for this “woe is me” jackass who’s more privileged than anyone in this goddamn show but not the one who has parents that are emotional as a spiked bat?

The one who’s been indoctrinated heavily by her mother to treat other women like enemies?

The one where it’s her 3rd time on the marriage mart, got the guy she had her sights on get taken away just for Penelope to say sike and marry Colin and for Lord Debling to go MIA?(the same happened to her with the fucking prince in season 1!)

The one who’s being forced to marry an old man cause rarely anyone wants her?

The one who lost a friendship she thought was genuine while that friend is going around dunking on her name?

The one who is actually looked down by the ton because they can’t take her seriously?

Her life pretty much sucks but the show keeps trying to shove in our faces that Cressida is a bully so she got what she deserved. Fuck Cressida Cowper, amirite?

Oh Christ.

I’m not justifying her rude and sometimes cringe actions, but if people can “understand” why Penelope does what she does, why can’t people extend the same courtesy to Cressida? Oh yes, she was mean to the show’s golden child so she gets the hammer.

Cressida didn’t expose Penelope to the queen even though she could have. She wasn’t even the one who wrote the fake Bridgerton slander, it was her mom and she even confronted her mom and made her displeasure known about it!

All she wanted was money to be free from her fate. She was desperate but the Bridgertons are like “haha u stupid and u suck. Speaking of suck, time to go suck on Penelope’s toes.”

Yeah, Cressida isn’t clever, she’s stupid right? Stupid enough to quickly figure out who LW was before you Bitchgertons. You hacks didn’t even figure it out when Colin and Penelope’s engagement was printed THE NEXT DAY!

They did Cressida so dirty this season like it’s really heartbreaking, no joke. Cressida is the true victim, not the redhead who got an undeserved HEA cause self-inserters and favoritism.

P.S. Penelope keeping her persona but just using her real name is SO FUCKING STUPID

[immortalmolloy]

Armand’s betrayal would have felt more like a betrayal if Louis wasn’t so toxic…

Listen, Louis has toxic traits. He manipulates Armand. You can pretend that’s not true but the actor has literally said this himself. He sees a vulnerability in Armand and tries to take advantage. A big part of their relationship revolves around how he can use Armand for safety and things.

He wants to control Armand. He thinks it’s working, but it’s not.

He thinks Armand is under his control and will do what he says. He’ll say yes to making a vampire because I said so.

Look at the expression on Armand’s face. He recognizes Louis is trying to make him do it, calls it out, and in the end refuses Louis. But it hurts. Armand recognizes that Louis is manipulating and controlling and he calls Claudia out for it too. Like fathers like daughter.

And the betrayal comes and I’m like yes queen slay! I love when Armand rages and acts crazy personally because he’ll tolerate this treatment and then snap!

Of course Armand has his issues and he also manipulates and controls in his relationships too. I’m just saying Louis is not innocent and the betrayal isn’t totally undeserved.

[thatdesklamp]

The Gojo Household, Winter, 2010

more satoru pov from intrinsic warmth canon because I require only happiness from this fandom rn

Satoru wishes he’d thought of something different when he first saw you.

He knows, now, that gossip in Jujutsu society is trivial and meaningless. Nothing means anything, and anything that’s said is either inflated out of proportion, or so shallow it’s basically pointless, or just untrue.

Satoru is older now—in fact, it is his twenty-first birthday next week—and as he’s been the focus of that same gossip for all of his life, he’s learnt not to believe it. He doesn’t even listen, nowadays. Few people have the gall to talk to him so casually, which, for once, Satoru can spin as a positive.

But he was young when he met you. He was six, as much as you try to convince him he was seven. When he was young, he was convinced that all the rumours were true: after all, the ones about him were.

Satoru was the strongest, the best, the prodigy that would change the world; he was Satoru Gojo, born for everything, with everything, and so of course everything about you would be correct, because everything about him was, too!

He had heard rumours, spoken candidly by his parents, before they died, and then in hushed voices by the servants when they didn’t think he could hear. He had heard about everyone; the downfall of the Inumaki clan, the pathetic outcasts of the Zenins, even the tiny little Hebi family, whose heir was not only born a girl, but with a disgraceful mutation of the family technique.

It’s what he thought, when he first saw you.

He noticed you looking at him, in the corner of his eye. You were one of the only children at the clan meeting, and your hands were tied tight behind your back.

You looked at him with hollow eyes, and Satoru had preened under the attention. He had thought you were looking at him because he was Satoru Gojo, and he hadn’t realised that you hadn’t known who he was.

Before you, everyone he’d ever met had known him. Everyone, until you. But you don’t remember meeting him, so Satoru can’t ask you why you were looking at him.

Satoru wishes he’d thought more of you, that first time. He knows, of course, that there was no reason for him to; it wasn’t like he’d fallen in love with you because of your name, or your family, and it wasn’t as if he should have felt the spark between the two of you just from hearing your family story. That would make it fate, if it was like that, and Satoru had always hated fate. He doesn’t want to love you because he has to, or because it was destined for him.

He looks at you, now. You put the kids to sleep an hour ago, and had spent the evening as you usually do: together, on the couch of his childhood home, just being with each other.

But now you’re half-asleep, leaning against him—his Infinity—with your eyes closed. Your breathing is slow and soft, and he feels your chest expand with every inhale. You trust him with this, that he will not deactivate his technique when you’re sleeping. Satoru has never been more grateful for you, or more undeserving of your trust. He would never touch you, never: he isn’t fifteen any more, and he knows better than he did then. But he wants to. More than anything, Satoru wants to touch you.

That night, on the rooftop. He could feel the pressure of your hands on him, exploring him, the hesitance transforming into curiosity and then careful confidence in your touch. Satoru had been wanting your hands on him for… he doesn’t even know, not really. But now he has felt you, even if it is through Infinity.

And he wants you. He cannot look at you without wanting his hands on you, his lips on you: he feels it viscerally, every time you smile, every moment you allow him to see beyond your facade of severity.

You say that he pretends, but you don’t seem to realise that you do the same: you hold yourself back from him, always leave him wanting, craving, and Satoru, who has always been selfish, will never be satisfied with all that you allow him. He will always be wanting more.

You stir. “Hmn?” you mumble.

Satoru shushes you. “Go back to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t. Need to go home.” You break off, yawn so wide he can see the pink of your tongue. Satoru has to look away.

“I’ll wake you later. I promise.”

“Promise.” You pat your lips together and curl further into him, your head on his chest—Infinity, he has to keep reminding himself, because he wants to pretend he is holding you without it.

One gloved hand rests on your opposite arm, and you clench it in your sleep as pain bursts through the muscle. You had hurt your shoulder again yesterday; whenever it sparks up again, Satoru feels a fresh wave of pure hatred for your family, for those bastards that kept your hands bound for all those years. He had hated them when he was younger, and he hates them even more now; he hates that their hold on you has only tightened, keeping you from touching people, keeping you in pain.

The first time, he hadn’t thought of them as restraints. They were evidence that you were the strange Hebi heir, the one who was born with the weird touching technique. Satoru hadn’t understood why your hands were bound; yes, he’d heard of it, but he didn’t understand why the gloves weren’t enough. He was just a kid, but Satoru wishes he had thought better of you. At least he had liked you; he really had, right from the first time he had spoken to you.

He had noticed you leave. Your father and grandmother had left you alone, and you had stood there for a moment, watching them go. Then you had looked around, and walked through a half-open doorway, pushing it ajar with your shoulder. Satoru remembers that you had walked through the crowd: your aversion to touch was still enforced by your family, not your own mind, and you hadn’t yet developed your panic around the large groups of people that you have now.

Satoru, six and curious and arrogant, followed you. He was interested in the way you walked; it was so decisive, after a moment of hesitation, latching onto the open door and walking through swiftly. Satoru didn’t think about Yahaba, or whether she would be worried if he went missing, since, back then, he hadn’t learnt how to think about anyone other than himself.

He was good at walking quietly, though, especially through old houses like his own. Satoru knew what floorboards looked like when they would creak, from all his time hiding from servants. Satoru followed you through room after room, his excitement growing. It was like a game to him, trying to guess when you would stop, and then try to figure out why.

It took you a while to decide where to stay, and when you finally do, Satoru didn’t understand why: it wasn’t one of the cooler rooms you’ve passed, like the ones with loads of bows or the ones with the cool murals and paintings.

The room was the most boring room. It was dead silent, and pretty blank and bland, and you just closed your eyes and sit down on the floor with your back against the door.

Satoru followed you in: you’d left the door open. He wondered for a second if this counted as creepy, if following you was a bit weird, but then he shrugged and reckoned that you’d be grateful to see him anyway. After all, you were just the kid from the Hebi clan! He was Satoru Gojo. Anyone would be honoured to meet him.

Actually—no that he was thinking about it, your journey was really weird. You even walked past loads of rooms with blades and swords, and Satoru didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just take off those ropes that you’ve got behind your back. They couldn’t be comfortable: they influence the way you walk, he thinks, and you keep tensing your arms up like you’re trying to pull away from them. Why wouldn’t you just take them off? Satoru resolved to ask you.

“Why are you sitting like that?” he asked, stepping into your view and mimicking your hand restraints.

It was just an introductory question—he was getting himself ready for your surprise, and then the absolute flattery and praise that always came when people saw him. They were filled, as they often said, with an overwhelming mixture of fear and awe, which he thought was pretty damn cool.

Satoru had been told he could be intimidating when he was trying to be, but he didn’t really want to scare you right now. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to be scared: he was Satoru Gojo, after all.

But Satoru was very good at being modest, and so he was asking you a question on your level, so you wouldn’t be so worried about engaging him in conversation. Here! He was telling you. I’m just a normal person! Even if he wasn’t, it was good of him to pretend. But Satoru was good with modesty, obviously, especially when people starting crying when they saw him, which had happened exactly five times in his lifetime.

Satoru smiled graciously, ready for you to start shaking and maybe prostrating yourself in front of him.

You looked up. “Oh. I can’t take them off.”

For a split-second, Satoru blanched. Where was the fear? Where was the awe? You were just looking up at him with that same solemn expression you were wearing before.

And then, Satoru brushed it off. Maybe that solemn face was just your ‘whoa, I’m super impressed that I’m in the presence of Satoru Gojo, and so I’ve got to pretend to be okay so I don’t look stupid in front of him’-face. He wouldn’t be offended: everyone else had their strategies to cope with meeting him for the first time.

So, Satoru continued your conversation: “Why not? That rope, or something? Doesn’t look that strong.” He stepped closer to you, pretending to size it up, like he didn’t know the exact answer you’d give him. “I could cut it off for you if you want.”

And there he was—being so generous, even though he didn’t have to, and even though he knew you’d refuse.

You shook your head, and Satoru felt a spark of triumph. “No, thanks,” you said.

“Didn’t think so.” Satoru grinned, very pleased with himself. Then, because he had to explain how clever he was, he added: “You walked through loads of rooms with weapons on your way here, but you didn’t even look at them. I saw you.”

“I’m not allowed,” you said, simply. You shuffled a bit on the floor, clearly still uncomfortable from the ropes, and probably trying to hide your nerves at being in such close-quarters with him, Satoru Gojo.

Satoru didn’t understand the concept. He didn’t like the idea of not being allowed to do something: he was allowed to do whatever he wanted, at home.

“Says who?” he asked. He sat right down next to you, copying your posture right down to the way your hands were stuck behind your back. He was right, before: it was really uncomfortable.

“My father.”

Satoru crinkled up his nose. “And you listen to him?”

“Yes.”

Okay, that was pretty weird of you. His opinion of you soured, a little. Satoru had been intrigued by how you’d left your family back in the other room; it had seemed like something rebellious, something interesting. But at the same time, you were the type of person who’d listen to people who didn’t care about you. Satoru looked away from you, feeling a little disappointed.

And then, like you were registering exactly what he was thinking, you said: “Well. Sometimes I do.”

Satoru perked up. “Sometimes? When don’t you?”

There it is! It’s obvious, now: you were holding back, but as soon as you picked up on his reticence, you switched up, and tried your absolute best to keep his attention on you. Of course. That makes sense!

“Now, I guess,” you said. You seem a bit shy, maybe, or a bit sullen. Satoru couldn’t tell: a flicker of something weird went up in him, an emotion he couldn’t recognise. He didn’t understand what you were feeling. Satoru didn’t like that—Satoru always knew everything, always. “He probably didn’t want me to leave the main room, but I did. He’s going to be angry.”

Satoru felt a strange tug in his belly. For some reason, he actually wanted to know the answer to his question. “Don’t you care about that?”

If you kept those weird ropes around your wrists because of your family, then surely you’d care about what they think about you.

“What?”

“If  your dad’s going to be angry.” Satoru looked at you intently, trying to peer into your mind. You weren’t reacting the way he was expecting you to, and he didn’t know what to make of it, really. “You don’t look like you care.”

After a moment, you said: “He’s angry a lot. You kind of get used to it.”

Satoru’s lips pursed. He didn’t like the sound of that. If he was living with someone who was mean like that, he wouldn’t get used to it: Satoru would do something about it.

You looked at him in the eyes, and he was taken aback, for a second, at how strong your gaze was. You kept flipping in his view of you: at one time, you were nothing at all, and then you were interesting and rebellious, and then you were subdued and fearful, and, now, you were something in-between.

You cringed, a little, at your words. You cast your gaze down, and Satoru found himself seeking it: he wanted your attention back. He wasn’t used to losing it.

“I mean…” you trailed off. “Not really. You don’t get used to it, but, I mean, I just have to guess when it’s going to be a good choice or not. Overall.” You just stared at the floor, and Satoru found himself leaning closer to you. He didn’t think you noticed. “I think he’s going to be really mad, yeah, but I didn’t want to be in the room anymore, so I’m just going to deal with it later. A lot of the time, though,” you said, with an air of finality, “it’s overall a bad choice not to do what he says.”

You nod, a little.

Satoru had never known so little about a person before. Everything he had thought about you was being twisted and changed, and he didn’t know at all what to make of it. He had expected you to be surprised and honoured to see him: you weren’t, not visibly. He had expected you to be pitiful and boring, as the weird heir of the Hebi family: you weren’t, not really, but instead were something different altogether.

Maybe it was just because Satoru didn’t know how to deal with being wrong—although, no, he wasn’t wrong, because he was never wrong—or maybe it was because there was something genuinely interesting about you. He wasn’t sure.

But, perhaps for the first time in his life, Satoru wanted to know more about a person. That was definitely something to pay attention to. That was something.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He didn’t actually know your first name: none of the servants had ever called you it. You were just the sad heir of the Hebi family, the one who’d gone wrong.

“Hebi,” you said. “Hello.”

Satoru grimaced. That wasn’t what he was asking, and you knew it. “That’s not your name,” he said, clearly urging you to answer his question properly.

“It is,” you said, petulantly. “My name is Hebi.”

“Hebi,” he repeated. “Right. But,” he said, slowly, to make sure you understood, “that’s your family name.”

You blinked at him. “Yes, exactly.”

Satoru held back a groan—he held it back, because he was trying to make a good impression here. Him! Trying to make a good impression! This was a day of new experiences. Satoru never had to try to do anything. He just did it, and people loved him for it. He didn’t know why, but there was something he liked about you, and this, about how you were making him try.

“So,” he said, because he knew you weren’t getting it, “tell me your first name then.”

You hesitated, and then your eyebrows bunched together, and your lips pursed into a frown. “No,” you said.

Satoru’s eyes widened. “No?” he echoed, in disbelief.

“No.”

Satoru stared at you. No? But he was making a good first impression! He was Satoru Gojo—people didn’t say no to him, even strange interesting people like you. Satoru was actually trying, and it wasn’t enough for you to tell him your name.

He struggled to speak for a few seconds. Satoru genuinely didn’t know how to proceed—he felt out of step in a way that was completely foreign to him. Satoru was used to being in charge of every conversation; he would enter a room and it would fall silent, just because he was there; he would walk through a crowd, and people would part for him, like he was activating his Infinity, the way he was learning how to do at home. Satoru was good at conversations like that, where everyone else was on the defensive, not him.

And yet, here he was. You had just said no. He wanted to know your name, and you didn’t give it to him.

He looked back at you, bewildered. And, Satoru remembers now, that was the moment he had known you were special for him: because, even as his head spun with trying to understand how someone could deny him something, he watched as your lips twitched into the tiniest half-smile.

Satoru’s heart had filled, back then, with such an overwhelming rush of joy and pleasure and pride, pride he had never felt before, because he had never struggled for anything before, and so he had never yet succeeded.

And even though you were trying to hide your smile, it was still there: he had made you laugh, even if he didn’t know how he had done it, even if it was just because you had found his mystified expression somewhat funny. He had still made you smile, and he had been so proud of himself for it.

That was the first time he had felt that, and, now, remembering it, Satoru realises he has been chasing that feeling ever since.

Satoru had not known you back then. Satoru knows you now. He knows how you walk, how you smile, all your different smiles; he knows what you look like when you find him ridiculous, and when you are trying to pretend that he isn’t funny; he knows what you look like when you are afraid, and when you are afraid of him, and he knows that he never wants to hurt you again.

Satoru knows you. He loves you: he knows this, too, now. It had taken him some time to realise it, and even longer to accept it. But he knows. And he does.

Maybe it’s something wrong with him, he thinks, with some tired wry amusement. The way he enjoys you denying him things, or the way he has to work so hard for such small things, like your smile, or your compliments, or even your attention, these days. He likes how focused he has to be, how much effort he has to devote to you, because he knows he will always be rewarded, eventually.

You’re magnificent. It was what you had said to him, that night on the rooftop, when you had let him get so close to you, and when you had looked so beautiful. Satoru still remembers the way the moonlight had made your eyes shine, as if liquid, and he remembers how staggering his love for you had felt, how all-consuming and unbearable.

He remembers your words, all of them. You’re just magnificent, Satoru. His name: you had called him by his name. The lilt of your voice, the curve of the vowels. You say his name, and he wants to kiss you. He feels it like a need, as strong as his beating heart.

You’re smart, and you make me laugh, even when I try to hide it. He wishes you wouldn’t: he loves that you do, because he is the only one who can make you laugh like you do with him. Satoru is the only one: to you, he is special. You make me feel… everything. It’s like my world is sharper and better whenever you’re in it.

Satoru wishes he had said more. Satoru wishes, sometimes, he had said the truth: that he could have repeated those same words back to you, and it would have still been just as truthful. Satoru’s world is nothing when you are not in it: he works, and he lives, and he is fine, but with you, everything is so much more. You know him. You know him, and you stay with him regardless.

You think he is good. You’re a good person, you had said. You are such a good person.

Satoru knows he is not. He has always been insensitive, needy, and he scares himself, sometimes, with the things he can do easily, that he knows are supposed to haunt him.

Satoru is selfish. He wants too much, and does not like it when he is denied that which he wants.

He wants you. He hates it when you hold yourself from him.

And he had asked you to marry him.

Satoru had been asking for a while. Not marriage: but for you to stay with him, for you to let him keep you close, to keep you with him always. Move in with me, he had been saying, for so long. Since you had finished with your fourth year at school, he had been asking. You’d visited his new house before he’d properly moved in, some random luxury penthouse suite that he didn’t care too much for, and you’d been impressed, in your restrained, amused way.

He had asked you, then, in the empty shell of a living room. Move in with me, he had said. It could be ours, he had not said.

You said no.

Satoru asked again. Later, when you were helping him move in. You said no.

Satoru asked again. You were watching the kids explore their new rooms. You said no.

Satoru asked again.

Satoru asked, and asked, and asked. You said no.

He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to. You gave him reasons, but he knew well enough that they weren’t real; he asked you again and again, and you refused to be honest with him. Satoru felt, for the first time since he had hurt you, back when he was fifteen, that divide between the two of you, something he could not cross, despite his desperate and fervent attempts.

Satoru asked again. You said no.

Satoru asked you to marry him. He didn’t understand it all, then, but he knew he wanted you to marry him. Satoru had always hated tradition, and had never thought about marriage, not seriously, but he thought of you, and your soft smiles and shining eyes and wry comments, and he had wanted it. You.

He had tried, so hard. He wanted you to want it—he wanted you to want him. I would, Satoru had told you. You knew that he didn’t enjoy traditions, that he didn’t subscribe to such antiquated ways of living, and you knew that being married would be compromising so much of what he believed in: but he told you that, despite all of that, despite everything, he would.

I would marry you, he had told you. Despite so much, he would.

It was his quietest confession. You knew him. You would understand.

You said no.

Satoru feels you stir, in your sleep. You mumble something to yourself, and then your eyes squeeze together and you yawn, widely. You open your eyes, groggy, and turn your face up to look at him. Satoru could kiss you, your lips are so close to his.

“Did I fall asleep?” you say, with a slight slur to your words. It’s cute, Satoru realises. Fuck, not only is he in love with you, but you’re cute, too.

“Just a little,” he says, and smiles as you scowl, as your nose scrunches.

“You should’ve woken me. I’m not going to—get to sleep at home, now.” You yawn again, and then push yourself off him—his Infinity—with a throaty heave. Satoru feels the loss instantly. Come back, he wants to say. He doesn’t.

“Ah,” Satoru says, leaning back to give you some more space, “that’s only if you still want to go. You don’t have to.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Gojo.”

Satoru, he pleads, in his mind.

“What?” he says instead, laughing.

“I need to go home. I’ve got—” and your face, so untroubled and tranquil and sleep-drunk, falls. Your eyes go hollow, just for a second. “I’ve got work tomorrow,” you say, and then run your gloved hands over your eyes. “God, I’m tired.”

“I’ll take you to your work,” Satoru says. He knows he sounds impulsive, or pushy, or even desperate, but he is—nowadays, he has to treasure every hour with you, even when you’re asleep. “It’s no big deal, Hebi-Hebi. You can use your old room here—Yahaba will get someone to sort it out now, if I ask her.”

Satoru stands, decisive, and prays you won’t ask him to stop. “I’ll ask her now, yeah?”

You’re hesitating. “I can’t stay.”

“Sure you can!” Satoru grins down at you, and he recognises the flash of uncertainty. He purses his lips, and then crouches in front of you, hands braced on his knees. “C’mon. It’ll be like old times! Remember when you’d stay at mine, nearly every night?”

Your lips quiver, and Satoru knows he is close to coaxing a smile from you. He chases it, and chases it.

“Yeah,” you say, quietly.

“Then we’ll just do that again! You can have your old room.” Satoru would like you to stay the way you were before; your head on his chest—Infinity—with your body tucked into him. He wishes he had worked harder to remember it, or remember what it had felt like, to be so close to touching you.

“I shouldn’t…”

“Says who?” Satoru raises his eyebrows at you, putting on a childish face, and finally you smile. It is small, and barely there, but it’s a smile, for him, just for him, and he loves you so much he cannot do anything else.  

You bite at the inside of your lip. “I don’t have pyjamas.”

“I’ve got them in your size,” Satoru says, waving his hand in the air, as if to dismiss the thought entirely. He does: he always have, ever since you started staying the night at his as children. He has made sure that, whatever age you are, you will always have a place in his home.

“I need to take my makeup off,” you say, but he can tell your heart isn’t in it. Your smile has widened, and you are playful now. Satoru feels joyful, lighter than hair.

“You think I don’t have remover? You wound me with the accusation, Hebi-Hebi!”

“I’d need to put up with you for another few hours.”

Satoru laughs, full and loud, and you grin. “You adore spending time with me,” Satoru says, with a pretence of arrogance he hopes disguises the ever-present, thrumming desire for your reassurance, praise, love.

You hum, non-committal. “Maybe.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and pretends to be offended. “Agh. If you’re not going to admit it, maybe you can’t stay after all.”

“I said maybe, didn’t I?”

“Maybe isn’t good enough. I’m hurt, now. You’ve hurt me.”

“Poor baby.”

Satoru sticks out his tongue, which he knows doesn’t disprove the accusations of childishness, but he hopes will make you smile again. It does, to his pure delight.

You brace your hands on your thighs and push yourself up, combing stray hairs from your face. You laugh, quiet and to yourself, at something amusing he hadn’t realised he was doing.

“You’re so stupid,” you say, with a voice rich with affection. Satoru grins, and ducks his head down to your level. You blink at him, and then roll your eyes a half-second later.

“Tell me you want to stay,” Satoru says. He must be straightforward, or you might not say it at all. “Or you’re not allowed,” he adds, to make the request less obvious.

Your lips purse. “Gojo.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I—Gojo.”

“Do you want me to say please?” Satoru tilts towards you, another push, another quiet confession, one of hundreds. “I will if it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, just a fraction. Your lips part. Yes, Satoru thinks. You understand.

Then you look down, away from him, and it is broken. Satoru is selfish, and he wants too much.

“I’ll stay,” you say, turning from him and moving to plump up the cushions he had been sitting on. You do not look at him. “That’s all you’re getting.”

“So mean to me,” Satoru says, automatic.

“You deserve it.”

“And so cruel!”

“As I’ve heard.”

Satoru brushes it off. He’s getting used to that. He instead bounds over to you, finishes your work with the cushions, and then sits back down.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

“Hoping to spend a little more time with my Hebi-Hebi before she goes to sleep,” Satoru says, promptly. “You’re not that tired, are you?”

“I’m very tired.”

“But you don’t have to go to sleep right now,” he says, “right?”

You scoff, but it’s clear to both of you that there is no bitterness or anger. It is amused, and endeared, and Satoru loves that you think about him that way.

“Just a short while,” you say, collapsing back down on your half of the sofa. Satoru grins, so broad and happy, and he sees his smile mirrored on your lips.

“Just for a little bit,” Satoru echoes. “Until you want to leave. I promise.”

[mathanlin]

Fae/Foster AU where Fae aren’t trusted to speak for fear of making deals — and so each foster family is given the Fae’s name to immediately mute them. Like Tommy, the unwanted Changeling.

And yet the Watsons let him communicate.

By… writing on a cheap plastic whiteboard.

It’s an incredible gift. 

He’s practically giddy with joy, scrawling out words that someone *finally* listens to. And not just anyone — the kindest, sweetest people the world has to offer. 

And selfishly, Tommy wants more. 

“Thank you.”

He holds the whiteboard out to Phil after supper. He’s eaten their food & thanked them, gave them so much power. As if his name wasn’t enough. 

Phil… smiles. At *Tommy,* the inhuman, unwanted creature.

And that makes the silence worth it. 

Almost. 

Because it hurts. 

To not be able to laugh during meals. To not banter with Wilbur or ramble with Techno. (Even when they say, “You’re a great listener, Tommy.” 

Because that’s all he is.)

And to know that if he ever said, “I love you,” it would be accompanied by the acrid stench of the marker.

And silence. Always silence.

That’s what makes him desperate enough to try.

“Hey, mate.”

Phil turns around, halfway through a sink of dishes. His smile falters to a look of concern as he sees Tommy’s hunched, shaking frame.

And that concern evaporates as he sees the message scrawled on Tommy’s whiteboard.

“Can I have my voice back?”

Tommy’s stupid enough to hope.

That maybe a year with the Watsons was enough. That maybe he’d gained their trust through his quiet help & shaky smiles. By being *easy.*

But Phil’s face tightens, grip tightening on the silverware in his hand. 

They’re thinking the same thing, Tommy knows.

Fae are dangerous. It’s a good thing there’s iron everywhere — if worse came to worse, they could ward off Tommy with it.

(What Phil doesn’t know is that Tommy would let them. 

That he’d take the pain and rejection silently.)

“We need to talk.”

It’s not said to Tommy. It doesn’t involve him at all. Just Phil and his sons who he’s called to the living room, voice quiet as Tommy eavesdrops.

That doesn’t make the words any less gutwrenching. 

“You can’t let Tommy speak.”

The twins tense, but they… they don’t even argue.

Phil’s jaw tightens. “He tried to ask me. You two have his name, too, he’ll go after you next. We can’t risk anything.”

What isn’t said is, *He’s too dangerous to trust.*

But they all know it. 

Tommy somehow gets quieter.

Because horribly, it makes sense. The Watsons can’t risk their family falling into a dangerous Fae deal.

And even if they did give his voice back, he’d be different. Too loud, too bubbly, too desperate for their love.

So he cuts his losses.

“Just for one day.”

It’s Wilbur he approaches, months after Phil’s warning. The boy looks up at Tommy, his incredible, undeserved fondness masked by confusion.  

“One day for what?”

*To have my voice back,* is the true answer. 

But there’s more. So much more. *To say I love you. To call Phil Dad, just once. To call you and Techno my brothers. Just one day to speak, and all I’ll say is how much I love you.*

*I’ll be quiet after that.*

“To have my voice back.”

In the end, that’s all he writes. There’s not enough space to write out all those vulnerable truths, the stench of the marker making him dizzy.

And Wilbur’s face falls.

“Tommy.”

He sounds… doubtful. Tommy’s heart dares to rise, hands shaking as Wilbur stands, face drawn tight with grief, pain, and… guilt?

It only takes a second for that last emotion to make sense.

Because Wilbur snatches the whiteboard from his hands.

“You can’t be trusted with it.”

That’s Wilbur’s explanation as he stalks down the hallway, Tommy clinging to his side, mouth desperately forming muted apologies. 

And when Wilbur hands the whiteboard to Phil, those damning words still scrawled across it, Phil says the same.

That’s not the end of it.

The notebooks around the house are taken. So are any scraps of paper, loose pens, pencils, or markers.

And Phil, voice thick with grief, orders, “Tommy, don’t try to talk to us again.”

It didn’t have to be an order. Tommy would’ve listened.

But the end result is the same. Tommy stays silent, buried in his room, unable to even cry out. To ask for *anything,* let alone the chance to say, “I love you.”

And like this, he’s lost the chance to ever hear it, too. 

[weirdsht]

(Un)Attainable - Alberu/Fem! Reader

notes: the og prompt for this was suppose to be super angsty, but I'm not so mean that I would make you guys cry the second I have the time to write. Also I notice a lot of people are using "Alver" now but I just can't, I'm so sorry huhu

tags: female reader, vague novel spoilers, forbidden love(?), lovesick Alberu if you squint

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

Alberu’s first priority will always be the Roan Kingdom and its citizens. He will always put the welfare of his people before his own wants. Alberu is the type of crown prince who is willing to play as the villain just to see his citizens prosper. Even when no one will be able to appreciate his sacrifices. All for the sake of his selfish desire to see his people thrive.

That’s the simple fact the people around Alberu know.

They know that he has no time for love. No time to indulge in such things when he has a kingdom to run. Alberu Crossman has said so himself several times in the past.

But oh, what is this feeling blooming in the crown prince’s heart? Could they be feelings of romantic affection?

Could the prideful prince be eating his own words of not taking in a spouse in the future?

Maybe, or perhaps not.

He does know one thing though…

It’s the fact that he's charting into dangerous territory.

Not only was he dumb enough to fall in love. That wasn’t enough.

No no no

The quarter-dark elf was stupid enough to fall for the one person he couldn’t get.

Adin’s fiance, the soon-to-be crown princess of the Mogoru Empire. The empire of the Sun God Church. The one place where his chances of his dark elf bloodline being discovered is higher.

But can anyone blame him and his beating heart? How could he not fall when she’s so sweet, so ethereal?

So undeserving of that bastard Adin.

She was so good. So kind, so strong, so smart, so compassionate.

And Adin was… a scumbag, for a lack of a better word. Someone undeserving love.

Despite that, Adin was still her fiance. Adin and not Alberu.

“I’ve known him since we were kids. Our engagement had been decided from the moment the emperor found out I was a girl. They said I was the perfect wife for him. That I can strengthen the royal bloodline.”

She had confided one night. Her dignified yet soft voice had a tinge of longing in it. As if longing for the life she could’ve had outside of being Adin’s bethroed. 

“Your Highness [Name] has your time with Prince Adin made you grow some affection for him?”

Alberu hopes that the answer is no. That despite the headstart Adin had, [Name] hadn’t fallen for his charms.

That instead she’d fall for Alberu’s charms.

He’s the better choice. He could give her so much more than Adin could ever. Alberu will make sure that she will have the chance to showcase her talent to the world. He will make sure to treat her like the princess she is. This crown prince won’t treat her as if she’s a mere trophy whose sole job is to be bragged around.

[Name] was so much better than that.

She has wits that can help run a kingdom. She has the compassion for her citizens. The heart that screams and begs to aid her people. She has a strong persona that has so much more use than just being shown around to nobles.

Alberu Crossman can see that she’s worth more than Adin displayed her to be— no, in fact in Alberu’s eyes she’s worthless. No system of measurement can gauge her worth.

“No amount of time spent with Adin can make me grow affection for the man. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.”

The quarter-dark elf almost let his shoulders sag. He was so relieved that he nearly conveyed his true feelings. 

He has a chance– Alberu Crossman actually has a chance..!

Alberu was so happy that he nearly didn’t catch [Name]’s next words.

“That man is so awful, hence why no amount of time with him can make me tolerate him. But I’m sure you already know of such things. As a matter of fact, my trusted handmaiden is on her way to make negotiations with your dear commander.”

Roan Kingdom’s rising sun had to double-take, unsure if the words he was hearing were correct.

“I’m not as dumb as the world thinks of me.”

Alberu must have had a stupefied look on his face for the lovely lady in front of him to make such a comment.

“No, no my lady, that’s not what I meant. I am well aware of your wits and capabilities. It’s just that my commander and I had been ready to do everything in our power to turn you over to our side.”

To turn you over so that you’ll be in my arms instead– of course, Alberu said no such thing. Only letting such degenerative thoughts run through his mind.

“My lady is highly intelligent, highly perceptive. You are also close to Adin, you are a core player in taking such a man off his high horse.”

[Name] had an incredulous look on her face. Like Alberu was flattering her too much. However, he wasn’t. The poor prince had only been telling the truth.

“I didn’t think that the future king of the Roan Kingdom was one to… get brownie points.”

“You wound me, my fair lady. I was merely stating the truth. Nonetheless, since we’re on the topic… do you mind people who try to get brownie points?”

Alberu isn’t sure where he got the guts to be so coy. But he was glad he did because [Name]’s expression was better than he’d hoped for.

“Hmm well, I guess I don’t mind. If it’s from a silver-haired prince maybe I wouldn’t entertain it. Luckily, blonde seems to be my type… or was it brown?”

[Name] had a knowing look on her face and oh god can Alberu fall any deeper. He should be scared, should be nervous that another person seems to know his secret. But no, instead, he feels himself falling deeper in love.

“Don’t worry your highness your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t do my potential lover dirty like that.”

Yeah… safe to say that Alberu’s in too deep now.

[reds-writings]

hii!! can i request

10. lashing out even though they know they will regret it from the angst prompts for rust

here's some sunny and rust angst! felt like it was fitting for when she first starts helping rust!

The pointed silence bleeding from you was more unnerving than Rust thought it could be. He had lashed out, shamefully so he’d regretfully admit. Marty had pissed him off a great deal earlier today and the fact that he always had to be hovered over one way or another was igniting a frenzy of feeling particularly fucking agitated. He loathed feeling so helpless. Whether it was a fragile sense of masculinity that had been subconsciously engrained within him or he was just being a dick because he could would be a question for the ages. 

The clinking sounds of dishes that the flow of sink water couldn’t drown out made him feel guiltier by the minute. It was the lack of routinely nonsensical humming during any simple task that made an impact. Your spark had been put out for the afternoon. 

And he was the rotten asshole who did it. 

Over what? All because you had to help him eat due to muscles of his own still on the mend from being stuck in a shitty hospital bed for weeks on end? There was certainly no need to harshly shove you away along with the plate of carefully crafted lunch you prepared to the floor in a heaping mess with spiteful curses. His resentful act had you frozen in place. Rust wasn’t the first patient to be so callous when you were just trying to do your job but it hurt all the same. He was a tough nut to crack so far in the two weeks you’ve been with him but today it was made clear your efforts might not ever be valued. 

The minute wobble of your lower lip was nearly imperceptible but the glaze that took form over your eyes sure wasn’t. Hating to be seen so emotionally exposed, you wordlessly stood up to grab a few paper towels to hopelessly clean up Marty’s rug. There’d be a big stain but you were sure Rust was due for more of a verbal lashing than you would be once you relayed the day’s events. 

God, this job didn’t pay nearly enough as it should with some of the crap you had to put up with. 

Rust kept his uneasy gaze on the TV in front of him. Old football highlights sounded foreign to his ears as he had trouble fighting away wanting to grovel for his mistreatment towards you. The most undeserving of receiving anything in the shape of cruelty. Marty would have him by the fucking ear, that much was true, but that bothered him less than his current predicament of trying to formulate a formal apology. One that wasn’t tinged with predictable apathy or a mashup of bumbling words. 

The sound of water suddenly shut off and the soft padding of your feet drew close again. His eyes darted towards your choice of socks for the day. Adorned with cartoonish succulents, a joke scrawled out near your calves: ‘What’s up succas?’ They were awful, but you had been excited to present them as soon as you stepped through the door this morning. It just made him feel more shitty. 

“Would you like for me to leave early today? I can have someone else come in for your night doses and bandage dressing.” You’d never sounded so prim. It was jarring. 

He fumbled for a strong answer, “...N-no.”

“Would you like me to sit away and give you space for the remainder of the day?” 

Your posture was set in a stiff cast. Unease infiltrated the room, growing thicker by the second as his brain wracked through all its confusion and veining remorse. You were like a different person. Forced into the protocol of taking residence as an even-keeled, unfeeling nurse. You wouldn’t allow him the image of being thrown off-kilter by his meanness. You could only let people walk all over you for so long in these instances even if shoving away instinctual kindness and immediate forgiveness hurt. 

“No.” He tried and failed at sounding more resolute. What was wrong with him? 

You didn’t say anything, visibly deflating as you pressed a thumb to the space between your brows. It was clear he had you at a loss of what to do but he couldn’t hold you as an awkward hostage any longer. 

“I’m sorry.” It felt as if he had to force it out of his windpipe. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Okay…”

“It was rude of me to-...behave as I did.” His eyes were everywhere but yours. If you weren’t so drained you’d giggle at the absurdity of Rust looking so timid. You straightened up to do your best at upholding your firm resolve. 

“There’s no excuse for it. It won’t happen again.” He pushed out and you just nodded. A teeny smile teasing the edge of your lips. You were getting a kick out of this. 

“You’re not bad to…” He hesitated and you waited.

That spark was coming back. 

“...have around.” It might’ve been impossible for him to look more embarrassed than he did from his spot on the couch. You put a hand to your mouth to suppress your growing grin, turning to the side in mock thought over his apology. It wasn’t the most graceful but you figured it was something coming from him. Turning back to him you yielded,

“I will humbly accept this apology. But we have to watch whatever I wanna watch before I leave tonight. The girliest of picks to make me feel better.”

He mulled it over but knew there was no winning right away, “Sure.”

You wiggled in a mini burst of victory before plopping down on the couch, still conscious of his need for space, and smiled as you got comfortable. 

“I’m thinking along the lines of Pretty in Pink. Oh! Maybe Roman Holiday-...” You rambled on about the movies you planned on torturing him with that he’d positively pretend to sleep through.

He was going to need help from whatever higher power was willing for him to navigate the colorful force that was you. 

[owl-with-a-pen]

Weightless, Kara coasted across the stratosphere of a broken world. Static still bristled at the corners of her vision, enough that even from far above, there were pockets she wasn't able to decipher past the fog. With a gasp, she burst forward with unmitigated strength, throwing herself into orbit.

Up and up she flew until, finally, she settled somewhere that direction no longer mattered - cradled by the infinite lull of the universe.

And yet the pain still found her. The memories. Flashes of blood and death and destruction. A blaring heat at the back of her mind, ringing in her ears until the pressure was too much to bear. A blast of raw energy that had erupted from her eyes, blown to astronomical scale by the technology Father had designed just for her.

Destroyed. How could they all be… gone? How was that possible? How had she… how could she…?

Legs curled tight to her chest, Kara felt no more than a child held static by the void. The same child who had been marched up and down Kandor’s vast hallways for years on end; measuring her strength, her speed, her dexterity through rigorous training cycles led by the holographic foes that had been pasted to the indistinguishable bodies of Father’s Primus drones. Her mind, of course, had been exercised to the same extreme – a most powerful tool, Father had praised. Encouraged by his enthusiasm, she had read from data crystals at his console for hours at a time, covering endless topics in both theory and practice until he had decided she was finally ready for her most important lesson.

Of the worlds soon to be welcomed by the New Kryptonian Empire.

Kara pressed her palms against her eyes, forcing herself into those softer memories.

She’d learnt first of Thanagar – how to speak in their crude tongue, or to fly in the same undulating method as though guided along by a set of her own burly wings. It was less dignified than the freedom of movement a Kryptonian had against gravity, and yet Kara had revelled in its exciting and unpredictable nature, the way it would make her stomach flip with every sudden dive or sharp swoop. She had laughed loudly alongside other Thanagarians, joining them on migrations, watching on as they had welcomed technological advancement alongside their centuries-old traditions. She had sat down with Thanagarian elders, staring transfixed as they had whittled figures of their Wingmen from great trunks – an order held in high esteem, expected to police a world that had once prevailed without the need for such intervention.

They struggle, Father had told her, to find order. Their construct is failing, their ideals… inefficient. The Kryptonian Empire would bring them the perfect order that they crave.

Kara’s eyes widened behind her hands, that same numbness from before creeping back into her mind. Placating her. Assuring her…

Their planet had been beautiful. She had found joy there… high up in the sky along with the other children.

Children.

Kara squirmed against the void, a whimper lodging itself deep inside her throat.

Soft memory. The planet was mesmerising, with vast cities, limitless oceans and stone perches set high into the sky to witness the most tranquil sunsets. Statues stood tall out in open water, meticulously crafted by sculptors over years, their chisels held steady against the hefty beat of their wings.

And on the ground, beneath the ocean floor, caves had stretched for miles, whistling their own tunes, smelling of salt water and…

Flush with Nth metal deposits, Father had informed her once with a grounding hand. A long time ago. Going to waste on limited minds undeserving of its uses! Seize the planet for the Empire, Daughter, and strengthen our own resources in the process.

She had demolished senselessly for… for resources?

No. No. That couldn’t be it. That wasn’t true.

Soft memory. What of Euphorix? A matriarchal society, Kara remembered, one that had welcomed her with open arms. Father had not joined her there. She had been free, for a time. The Euphorians had not been in need of a new order as he had described. They’d had their own already.

And Kara… desperate for a planet to call her home, had nearly fallen for their…

False ideology.

She cringed, burying herself further away.

They will welcome you without question. The perfect unsuspecting ally. An alien with much to learn. But you will learn of them, using the powers they do not possess; study their battle strategies, their vulnerabilities. Find out everything you can about them and exploit it. Do this, Daughter, and the New Empire will be forever in your debt.

Kara shuddered. The Empire, of course, she had done it all for the…

H’lven had been next. A juvenile planet made of half-breeds, rodents who had evolved similarly to how apes had on Earth. Kara had found their easy way of life hypnotic, a simpler means to exist. She had studied their rituals as instructed, their holidays and their hibernation periods. Although, Father had been most intrigued by the latter…

Take their world while they sleep. Ensure no resistance.

Tears rolled down Kara’s cheeks and she clenched her fists harder against her face, shaking her head until her skin was raw against her knuckles. She had learnt their languages, their politics, their battles won and lost. Their tactical advantages, their disadvantages. Everything that might make them susceptible to attack.

All of it locked away behind false memories, or perhaps, distorted ones. Just like the wall on Thanagar, the glyphs carved into every planet face they had invaded. A mural immortalising the Kryptonian trickster who had lived among them before raining fire down from the sky.

Every planet, shy of one.

Kara gasped shakily, folding even tighter into herself.

Earth had been an outlier. Father had instructed her not to stray from her directive – all would come together in time. But she had been… impatient, more-so than with other planets. For this one had called to her, not to Father, to her. A message filtered through space, from one who called himself… Kal.

Hello. Uh, Kara… I don’t know if this will work, but if you’re out there and you get this message, I’m tired of being alone. I thought you might be too. Your cousin, Kal-El

The language had been strange to her ears at first, and while Father’s translation technology had made the words decipherable, she’d wanted to hear it for herself, in the language it had been intended for.

Earth. Not part of their plan – not yet - but English was one of the many languages stored in Father’s databanks. There must have been reason for that.

And so, Kara had sat with the Primus drones for days, speaking back the chaotic language that was English consonant by consonant until she had achieved fluency, the common vernacular. She’d needed to ascertain that there was no doubt for mistranslation, the message was too important to misinterpret.

Especially that word, the one this Kal-El had used as his sign-off.

And when she was certain, Kara had cried tears of joy for the first and only time that she could recall.

Cousin had meant family.

Thinking back, she wasn’t sure why she’d kept this from Father for so long. After all, would he not have been overjoyed to learn of another Kryptonian’s survival? To add to the ranks that they were sorely lacking?

He would. He will.

Then why? Why wait? Perhaps she had feared exactly what had happened. That even with the knowledge of another Kryptonian, a blood relation, he had still forbidden her from straying from their plan. The new Kryptonian was interesting, and he would prove an indisputable ally, but only when the time was right. And only when they arrived on Earth together.

You must learn from your mistakes, Daughter.

Kara nearly scoffed at the echo of Father’s words. Mistakes? How was she to know what mistakes had been made when they were locked behind a wall of static within her own mind? She had been instructed to embody the planets that they conquered, to take from them their tongue, their beliefs, their strategies, all to determine exactly how she might bring their downfall most efficiently. A Kryptonian was strong, but Father had wanted more from her. Power was not just in one’s physical traits, after all.

The perfect weapon must be astute both in mind and body. Kara, my daughter, you will be the essence of our Empire.

But how was she meant to embody a world without falling in love with it? The Thanagarians and their art, the Euphorians and their wisdom, the H’lvenites and their innocence. They were ideals she had fallen for, ideals she had been punished for daring to emulate.

A test of your loyalty, Daughter, Father had told her once, when the fog had again cleared intermittently from her mind. So that I know your will is unwavering and your allegiance to the Empire is without question. These are all… necessary extractions.

Kara’s chest caught suddenly, and the tears on her face rolled in globules out across the star-lit void.

That word. Extractions. She wondered suddenly if she was remembering it correctly.

But with everything she couldn’t grasp, the pieces she could only felt clearer for it. That memory was without fog. It was unmuted. Bold.

Father would have punished her for her keepsakes. For the recipe book she’d been gifted on Euphorix, the statue the elders on Thanagar had crafted just for her. He had believed her obsessions childish and inappropriate. Not fit for a warrior. But… Father had not been speaking of her small treasures, then. They were mere tokens, not extractions. And… if her memory was correct, he wouldn’t yet have known about them at all.

Kara wiped her eyes harshly, staring down at the broken planet beneath her, the stuttered clouds that swirled overhead, raining ash onto an empty world.

From this high up, she couldn’t see the elements of her destruction that had ravaged the planet, and yet in her heart she knew that a great deal was gone.

More than that. Because, as her eyes started to scan, slicing through the fog, she realised that it wasn’t just the city structures or coveted resources that had been eradicated.

Something else was missing.

More static. More deceptions.

Kara had knelt in the ruins of Thanalder, she had felt the rubble of the planet’s largest city beneath her knees, recognising the scorch marks on the stone as her own deadly assault. That had been real. She’d been so ashamed, so disgusted, that she’d sent herself reeling into the sky. There was only so much that could have been seen from ground level, anyway.

Now, though, she had the perfect vantage to see it all.

As much as it hurt, she forced herself to keep looking beyond the fog, to see past her soft memory. The static hadn’t yet receded completely, and there were still pieces hidden from her, obscured in pockets of lost time.

She scratched at the surface of that memory, focusing harder and harder until her skull ached with every rock upturned. No longer did she lie foetal and numb in the darkness, no longer would she allow Father to dismantle her memory for his own gain. He had taken more from her than she had ever known and… and more still from the planets they had conquered.

When the static finally cleared, a chasm opened somewhere inside of Kara’s heart, mimicking that of the city-sized craters she could now see carved from the planet’s surface, left to sully the landscape below.

A shudder passed down her spine as she kept staring, willing herself to understand.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, something Kal-El had said to her struck again so suddenly, she nearly choked.

Are all the planets in the New Kryptonian Empire like this?

He had been right to question it, Kara realised dully. Father had promised her an Empire, a new Krypton that she’d be old enough to protect this time around. But… who was left here to protect? What had Father taken?

Keepsakes. Like hers.

Just, on a much grander scale.

Fury clogged her throat, then grief, then an unbearable agony.

Hypocrite! her mind screamed.

Father had let her fall in love with planet after planet, given her that freedom, only to take it away every time he’d obscured her mind. And, when she woke, the things she had loved were gone. A token in their place.

But what of Father’s tokens, what of Father’s cities? They weren’t hidden in shame behind a wall. They were proud markers of conquest. Trophies. Displayed, somehow…

How could he have them on display?

But Kara’s memories didn’t lie, not any longer, and she remembered the spires of the lost cities of Thanagar, Euphorix’s capitol of Aesad, and the densely populated forests on H’lven. Neatly tucked together beneath ornamental glass domes…

Kara shook her head. It didn’t matter. It couldn't. They were gone because of him. They were gone because of her…

How long until Father pitted Earth just as he had the others? What city might he spare for his collection, his Empire?

Kara thought at once of Jimmy Flamebird’s face, the kindness and honesty he had offered her, and remembered the feel of his hand in her own. A frail, human hand, not even capable of bending steel, but he had extended it to her just the same.

What would happen to him now? The planet she had barely made time for in her haste to visit alone. There was still so much to learn from it, but Father’s crystals would offer her no insight now. He would only fog her mind again. If she returned to him now, if he learned of her defiance, everything she had discovered would be lost to her.

Even without a gravitational force, Kara felt something solid ball inside her stomach, pulling her down from the navel.

She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t go forward, either. She was… alone.

As she curled back in on herself, desperate to drive her demons away, she didn’t think she’d ever felt this small. “Kal-El?” she asked the void, picturing his face in the spaces between broken memory. When that failed, her voice faltered. “Clark?”

Kara didn’t expect an answer when she whispered, “What do I do now?”

[also on AO3]