#if season 2 hurts her i will scream

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

SHE'S THE FUKING WAYMOND WANG OF HELL!!!!

kindness is how she fights, mercy is her strength, everyone being a PERSON to her is how she can keep trying for them (what she hinges her self worth on), and-

she's.

Not.

the only one trying anymore

there is ONE person who she DOESN'T feel responsible for. who she shows her sadness to, her weakness, who she looks to and asks for help with all this, who she shares the weight of her dreams with, doesn't hide her embarrassing sides from, and relies on to MAKE this work

Vaggie. She's got Vaggie.

this show also says there is no fixing this with just one person

Charlie USED to be alone in this she USED to have no one really in her corner, even her dad who loved her didn't think the way she did or hold the same hope she does

the hotel didn't become a thing until Charlie finally had a partner who believed in the idea of sinners as people!

not people Vaggie always LIKES, or is NICE to, but that's the point. She doesn't have to like them or trust them to think of sinners as people. people who SHOULDN'T be slaughtered en masse for the sake of paranoia and giggles

and Vaggie, as person with a past of being hurt, is less kind with people who aren't Charlie, less trusting with them, she's fine with killing to protect what she loves...

but she let's LUTE live, in the end. For petty reasons but still. And even when her relationship with Charlie was on the outs, she was there for their sinner hotel guests, telling them WHAT was going on, telling them it's fine if they don't want to stick around for the hotel fight- caring about them! Valuing them!!!

the idea of redemption is something she WANTS to believe in too! The first part, of looking at people as people, she's already there! The hotel is HER thing also!

Hell and heaven both laugh at Charlie or dismiss her. Her girlfriend doesn't.

HER GIRLFRIEND. The woman Charlie chose to share her life with, what does it SAY that she picked and stuck with Vaggie all this time!? And vice versa!

She only got to meet Vaggie at ALL because Vaggie saw a kid down in hell the same way she'd see ANY. OTHER. KID. And when sparing that kid got Vaggie fuck up and abandoned, when a demon lady patch her up, Vaggie didn't regret her mercy, she saw and accept Charlie's kindness.

the show doesn't have Vaggie ever side against Charlie. Even when she's getting blackmailed, the most Vaggie can bring herself to do is try asking her gf to not rush into a fight so fast.

Vaggie is the last possible thing from "naive" or "innocent" or "too soft", or whatever people wanna call Charlie! She's strict, short-tempered, generally the pessimist! She's a doer not a dreamer. She's also not Alastor, starting off using the hotel and Charlie's dreams and position to build himself back up in hell! The only thing Vaggie gets out of being hotel manager is a HEADACHE!!!

This scarred and battle-forged former mass murdering angel met Charlie Morningstar, and now she shares the same dream Charlie does.

She's also doing everything she can to help Charlie make it come true.

And the show thinks that's important to highlight.

That Charlie isn't wrong about redemption. Someone who used to kill without a second thought, can change. Can care even while being fed up and sharp. Can end up protecting the people she used kill, mourn them when they die, risk her life fighting for them.

(and yeah, cheer like crazy when one of them kills that guy she hates)

You're so right, op.

People have their opinions, but season 1 of this show always ends up supporting Charlie's ideas with solid actions and results, instead of just the inaction and lies of hell and heaven. Even Alastor starts to realize it. Sinners are people, people can always change. Everyone has something or someone they care about. Everyone is worth just a little bit of care. Charlie is right.

Especially when it comes to her choice in partners.

OH Oh oh, I would love to hear a Charlie canon vs fanon rant if you're up for sharing?

Ok ok mainly I was thinking of someone recently saying “Charlie represents a shallow christian view of redemption in which you just try really hard and don’t do drugs! you’ll be a good person that easy!” (paraphrased) and well. No. Definitely not.

What Charlie represents is the emotional idea of redemption.

Charlie’s chosen existence is based fully upon the idea that there is no category of “bad person” that excludes someone from being human. As such, everyone is capable of redemption because ‘there’s good in everyone deep down inside, she knows there is.’ People like to think this as naivety (which is. a whole other thing) but this is the stance the show takes every seriously. So many, and I mean so many, are under this impression that Charlie is at some point going to be proven wrong about redemption. That not everyone can actually be redeemed. But she just won’t be because the point is always that Charlie is right. With Angel, with Pentious, against Lucifer, against Adam and against Sera, she’s proven right.

“You build something nice, you invite people in and offer them everything and they just bring VIOLENCE and CHAOS to your doorstep. It doesn’t matter how well intentioned you are, they’ll always disappoint you.”

…He says, as the hotel crew work together to keep each other safe and out of harm’s way even at their own risk.

In any case, Charlie’s view of redemption is that of loving-

-and being loved.

This is what the series shows. Every fully realized character loves, and is loved by, someone.

No exceptions.

It’s a deliberate point of humanization because the show argues everyone has humanity. Which is what Charlie argues! The show is always in alignment with her values. As such, it doesn’t make sense to argue any of this is something she is meant to grow out of.

Now, where the above statement is drawn from is that she doesn’t have the practical understanding of redemption. Hence the parody of America’s famously ineffectual D.A.R.E program. This done because Charlie is very much throwing shit at the wall (done through looking at common behavior in hell and having her patrons not do the opposite to appeal to Heaven) in very desperate hope something will work and Heaven will recognize her people… as people. Importantly, the significant thing of Angel Dust and Sir Pentious being the actors in this scene is that through understanding them Charlie learns a practical idea of redemption. That being as (and what the show properly conceptualizes redemption as) the correction of behavior that harms oneself or those around you. Which is why we go from:

To:

“Heavenly people, the porn star chose a night of debauchery, that’s not a soul worthy of being in Heaven!”

“Are you really telling me you haven’t had a drink with friends at the end of a hard day?”

She’s not bending over backwards to make Angel as appealing as possible to Heaven, she’s making a stance that disagrees with their perception of ‘bad behavior’, reminding them to acknowledge his hardships and what influences his behavior, and making it clear that these specific actions aren’t having a negative effect on anyone, and therefore doesn’t contradict her statement that Angel has improved.

Then people see the part of Charlie’s arc which is learning to have a damn backbone (to put it bluntly) and go and argue that the end point for Charlie’s character is to “stop being nice.” Well, first of all, Charlie being nice is the only reason everyone isn’t dead, so jot that down, and second, while yes Charlie fights against Adam, the ultimate result of that conflict is:

“He’s had enough.”

Charlie is always going to choose mercy. She is always going to extend humanity. She is always going to offer the olive branch. People think Charlie is going to come to some grand revelation about having to be cruel and that just, isn’t the point. Because the big thing is that people believe Charlie is defined by her naivety (and that eventually that naivety must be destroyed) but she isn’t.

The only moment I can really think that suggests Charlie being such is her singing in the pilot during the newsbroadcast despite being warned otherwise. Besides that, I just don’t see it as a major point of characterization. Because we see Charlie acknowledge not everyone wants to change, but she doesn’t get to deny any the opportunity, deny them the hotel. Because they were entitled to the opportunity to change and improve by process of being alive. “How can I turn him away? I can’t. It goes against everything I stand for.”

In general I think there’s a failure of people who view Charlie as just… naturally happy go lucky at factory default and miss that Charlie’s kindness is a choice.

Charlie was born into a broken world with a decomposing kingdom to her name. Her optimism is a developed coping mechanism because it’s the only way she can believe everything can maybe work out. Because Charlie has been surrounded by this constant death she felt powerless to stop and everyone has just! accepted it! This constant misery that she unavoidably bares witness to, and it feels like she’s the only one who cares.

So she has to be kind. She has to believe things can tangibly improve. She has to put the entire world and then some onto her own shoulders and live with every action she takes having millions of lives dependent on it. Charlie doesn’t even think she’s any sort of properly equipped to do any of this, but she’s the only person who’s bothering to try.

As Charlie deeply internalizes what people say about her. Hell’s clown, a joke, a fool chasing an impossible dream, destined to fail. Whenever anything goes wrong, Charlie directs that entirely at her own self. Adam is going to slaughter the hotel? What a horrible person she was to give the them false hope. Heaven decided to personally purge Charlie and her family because they dared to believe in their own personhood? Well she should have done a better job at convincing them otherwise.

Charlie doesn’t like herself.

So she masks it.

Sometimes the mask, the optimism, breaks.

I think Charlie’s optimism is as to Alastor’s cruelty, that’s why this scene compares them the way it does. Those aspects of them, they’re not fake exactly, but they are conjured to shield their fears. Charlie is afraid of failing everyone and Alastor is afraid of… being afraid in the first place frankly.

Because again, Charlie views everyone as her responsibility. She needs no reasoning beyond Hell being her people for her to dedicate her entire being to them. People seem to not acknowledge how closely she and Vaggie manifest their feelings of self loathing, even if they pretty much do it on opposite ends of the spectrum. Vaggie is a living extension to Charlie, Charlie is a living extension of Hell. The knight and the princess, both sworn to their own duties even at their own suffering. And the princess would burn herself to ash to warm her kingdom. Charlie is the self chosen sacrificial lamb.

[its-leethee]

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

me, listening to a podcast about a guy in prison based entirely on a coerced confession: what do you mean the members of the jury still think hes guilty now that they know about coerced confessions??? did you not hear four police officers interrogating and shouting at a 19-year-old while hes sobbing through a story inconsistent with the actual evidence???? there was no other evidence, how do you still think hes guilty???

me, ten minutes later: ...oh, right. if they say hes not guilty, that means they sent an innocent kid to prison. yeah, now that uh makes sense.

[ivystitches]

the amount of disrespect shiv takes from her brothers on a daily basis, i would’ve committed at least one murder by now

[unluckiestmember]

Arcane x Ransom! Reader

Summary: How would the Arcane characters react if the reader was held for ransom?

Characters: Jinx/Powder, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Sevika, Silco and Licker (mention).

Warning: Slight cursing and suggestive themes/implied sexual themes.

A/N: I literally got the idea for this request from Helluva Boss, particular episode 6 of season 2. I hope you all enjoy this though, I know I did!

Powder/Jinx

“You have who?! Where are they?!… You want me to pay you for them? Oh I’ll pay you alright!”

Jinx doesn’t take the idea of you getting hurt lightly. She already is super overprotective of her little trinket, so when she heard that you were being held for a price, she wasted no time grabbing Pow-Pow, Zapper and a bunch of chompers to aid her in her “heroic rescue” for her princess/prince. As soon as she is where you are held, you don’t have to see her to know she’s there for you. Don’t expect any talking, just laughter and hollers followed by gunfire, screams for mercy and explosions.

Before you know it, the Loose Cannon is standing in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug ever and dressing your face with kisses. She will ask you countless questions while freaking out, beating herself up over you being in such a position. But when she feels you touch her and assure her you’re okay, she’s on cloud nine. As soon as she laces the area with bombs to blow it to kingdom come, she’s back at her hideout, being super affectionate and touchy the entire night. Don’t expect anyone to be touching you for months unless they want their head blown off.

Violet “Vi”

“… What?… You… You just pissed off the wrong woman.”

First word that you were kidnapped, Vi wasted no time hunting your captors down and beating them to a bloody pulp. The woman is like a bull seeing red knowing you were somewhere cold and scared away from home and her arms. So until you were back to her, anyone was able to get a personal greeting from the pink haired fighter. Vi is pretty merciful, but in situations like this, she isn’t afraid to push the envelope by giving life threatening injuries to the bastards that hurt you.

When she found you, she didn’t bother asking any questions or giving any money to your kidnappers, unless they counted a mouthful of fists and kicks as payment enough. When she’s done with her punishment, she’ll immediately scoop you into her arms and take the both of you back home, where she checks you for injuries and asks if you are okay. Please comfort her. She may act all tough and cool, but the situation scared her due to thinking she lost you just like everyone else. As soon as she knows you are alright, she’ll promise no one will ever do that to you again.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“You kidnapped Y/N? Why would- Who do you think you are? You better let them go right now!”

Caitlyn was used to people being kidnapped on the job, having to save them or negotiate with criminals for their safety. But she would have never imagined such a thing happening to you of all people. When she was told you were being held for ransom, she understandably panicked before taking deep breaths and thinking of how to get you back to her. The enforcer can easily scrounge up the money for you to be freed, because you were more important than any coin that reaches her pockets.

So when she arranges a meeting with your kidnappers and finds you so scared, she finds it hard to stop herself from grabbing you and making a run for it. If the kidnappers pull a fast one on her though, all bets are off and bullets are flying. When she has you back, she will watch you like a hawk and be on the defensive for a while. But if you assure her enough that you are okay, she will lighten up. On the bright side, after the incident she’s more romantic and spends more time with you in and out of work.

Viktor

“Look, I’m sure we can talk about this. I’ll get you the money, just. Please don’t hurt them…”

Viktor beat himself up when he heard you were taken away from him for monetary purposes. He just doesn’t understand how he would let this happen- How he would let someone easily take you under his nose and put you in harm’s way?! He could’ve waddled in his sorrows, but he couldn’t. He had to save you and he had to act fast! It would hurt him, but he would ask for assistance from Jayce and the council if he can. And if they can’t help him? Well. Maybe it was time to break out those so-called dangerous machines Heimerdinger warned him against using.

When he finds you, he’s wasting no time trying to negotiate a way around matters so you could be freed. And if those negotiations don’t go according to plan, then he’ll use his machinery and his brain to outsmart the criminals into freeing you. When you are back together, he’ll just. Hold you. Like you are a precious gemstone. He’ll promise you this will never happen again. No one will ever lay their hands on you again…

Jayce Talis

“Is this supposed to scare me? If anything, you should be the one scared- Do you know who I am?!”

Jayce does not take threats lightly, especially when it comes to his family, friends and his loved ones. As soon as he was told you were held for Ransom, he let his anger and determination to get you back fuel him to do anything to send a message and bring you back to safety. You will immediately know your boyfriend got the message because in a matter of hours, enforcers are barging into the area you were held like they were entering a war, shooting, punching and slamming anyone who got in their way from their goal; You.

And Jayce is in the middle of it all, swinging his hammer without remorse before running to your rescue as your knight in shining armor. As soon as you grab his hand, he’s walking you back to his place casually through the enforcers destroying everything in their sights and leaving a message for the assholes that took you; Never. Ever. Touch the councilman’s lover. Don’t expect to go anywhere without guards following you if Jayce isn’t, whether you want to or not. Jayce just can’t take the chance for you to be taken again. Is it extreme? Yes. But it was worth it.

Sevika

“Ransom? Seriously? Please, that’s nothing. And I’m about to show you why.”

When it comes to ransom, Sevika wasn’t new to having her friends or past lovers be kidnapped for money. So when she heard you were being held hostage, she casually grabbed her poncho, fixed her arm for a brawl and headed outside to round her co-workers up. When she found you and the ones that took you, she wasted no time kicking in the doors and sicking her co-workers on everyone before she made her way towards you after knocking some skulls in. She’ll ask if you are okay and especially check you for any injuries before grabbing you and joking how you found yourself in this predicament.

The fight rages on as soon as she places you outside for safety. Saving you wasn’t enough. No, she needed everyone to know that when someone messes with you, they have to deal with her and the rest of Zaun. When everything is over and done, Sevika will take you both back home and treat any injuries you want before kissing your cheek and simply talking as if you weren’t kidnapped to begin with. If you think she doesn’t care, then hoo boy. The way she’ll treat you that night in bed will make you think otherwise.

Silco

“Hmm… If I were you, I’d beg for mercy when I get there…”

Silco is never one to be threatened because he’s always the one making the threats. Hearing about you being held for Ransom made him immediately go on the move to round up Sevika to follow him in bringing you back to him. If he gets there and doesn’t find you anywhere, he will deliver a silent signal to bring the house down. But if you are present, then he won’t need violence to be delivered by his Right Hand. He’ll just need to put the fear of gods into your kidnapper.

He’ll paint them a picture of how he’ll find their families and let them listen to the melody of their bones breaking. How he’ll have Licker carve paintings into their bodies and let them choke on their own blood as they beg for mercy. What do they think of that? They wouldn’t like that at all. As a matter of fact, they would hate it so much that they would release you and fade from existence right there. As soon as you are back to Silco, he’s going to take you back home as if this was only a minor inconvenience. But as soon as you two are behind closed doors, he can’t help from keeping his hands to himself and make promises against your skin.

If you have any requests for Arcane, X-Men '97 or Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay safe, stay hydrated and have a good day!

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[xveenusx]

You

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.

Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.

Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!

_______________

Angry.

That’s how I felt.

At myself. At my dad. At John B.

When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.

Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.

Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.

It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.

Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.

Until, I didn’t.

It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.

My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.

Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.

JJ.

“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.

I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.

Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.

My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.

_________

I hated this sign.

My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.

It served as another reminder that my brother left me.

I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.

Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.

And then, there was JJ.

JJ was special.

He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.

In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.

I blew out a breath.

Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.

When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.

But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.

What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.

The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.

“You ready?”

Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.

If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.

“I go where you go.”

JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.

“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.

In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.

Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”

My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.

I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.

“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”

“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.

Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.

I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.

You matter.

You matter.

You matter.

But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?

Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.

There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.

I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.

He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.

The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.

JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.

A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.

“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.

I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.

He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.

My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.

His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.

“Do you believe me now?”

JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”

A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”

“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”

My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.

He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.

So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.

JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.

Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.

Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.

Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.

A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.

"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.

A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.

The effect he had on my body left me stunned.

My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.

His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.

His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.

The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.

JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.

He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.

I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.

JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.

He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.

“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”

Stacey Williams had this thing about her.

What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.

That fact alone made me nervous.

Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.

Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.

People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.

“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”

She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.

“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”

My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.

“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”

I winced. That’s all I was to him?

I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”

I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”

Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”

Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.

“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”

The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.

I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.

I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.

But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.

Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.

Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.

Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.

I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.

My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.

Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.

“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.

Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.

JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.

“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said-“

“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”

I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.

“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.

“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”

It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.

My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.

JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.

Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“

“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”

“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”

“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.

A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.

My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.

Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.

When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.

His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.

I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.

“Listen-“

“No thanks.”

“If you would just-“

“Go away.”

“Can you please stop acting-“

“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.

“I dont want to talk to Sta-“

“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“

“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.

My mouth opened and closed in shock.

“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

“Because it’s you.”

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“

“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.

My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.

“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”

I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”

I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.

JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”

“Then leave-“

“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”

My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.

“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”

His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.

“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”

My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.

“But you said-“

“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.

In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.

At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.

Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.

Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.

Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”

Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”

His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”

Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.

“You said I was just some girl.”

JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.

“Good thing I have a truck.”

“But she-“

He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.

“You’re the only one I want.”

JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.

My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.

JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”

The words never crossed my lips.

He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.

His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”

Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.

JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.

My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.

Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.

A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.

White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.

JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.

He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”

______________

I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)

Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe

[stories-and-chaos]

Something I’ve been pondering about Stolas and Octavia, especially since the mid season 2 trailer. So we as the audience know how unhappy Stolas is in his marriage. We saw his reaction to the engagement and Stella’s picture, how disengaged she was when Via was a child, the way she talks about him, and evidence that Stella has been physically and emotionally abusive.

We’re omniscient, we even know well before Western Energy that she’s hired Striker as a hit man. So we’re aware of how awful this relationship has been for Stolas.

Octavia isn’t. Stolas has been protecting her from Stella’s behavior her whole life. He’s done his best to give her the happy childhood he never got. Just contrasting the parent child interactions:

From the looks of it, Stolas has been taking abuse from his father and wife for decades, all while never letting his daughter know. Which is not at all unusual, for an abused spouse to hide it from their children. He’s kept Via out of the line of fire and has masked it so well she doesn’t even realize her parents have problems until the “Not Divorced” incident.

So from Via’s point of view, her dad has suddenly cheated on her mom who is screaming at him because she’s mad. Her dad is now acting bizarrely sexual and not giving her the attention she’s probably used to. We know that Stolas is experiencing a sexual awakening. He’s exploring parts of himself that many people would have as teens and young adults, not their mid thirties. That whole delayed puberty kicking in.

And we know from Stella gossiping with her friends that she and Stolas aren’t intimate. From the sounds of it, the two of them haven’t done the deed since Octavia’s egg was laid. So the girl is used to her parents being cordial in front of her, with no physical affection between them. That’s her normal.

Stolas suddenly hanging all over Blitzø, the dirty talk, him yelling back at Stella. From Via’s perspective her dad became a cheating sex fiend out of nowhere. Stella’s outbursts are probably common enough that the way she’s reacting doesn’t move the needle for Via. Unfortunately we haven’t seen Stella and Octavia interact yet. But Stella is enough of a narcissist that I’m sure she’s portraying herself in the best possible light in this situation, blaming Stolas for everything.

Meanwhile, Stolas can’t even manage to tell Via that her parent’s marriage is arranged, loveless, and abusive.

He tries but can’t verbalize what’s going on. Not that this excuses his behavior. The Loo Loo Land trip was such a disaster because Stolas wasn’t paying attention to Via. But Via is mostly in the dark about her parent’s dynamic. To her, her dad is the one suddenly acting weird and ruining the family. Stolas has insulated her so much from the worst parts of his life that she has no reference point for his unhappiness.

She’s genuinely confused about why Stolas hates Stella. And from the sound of things, Stolas continues to not talk to Via about it. He was hurt enough to be hospitalized for an extended period. But in the trailer we hear Octavia saying “You never loved mother and you don’t love me, you love him.” Which indicates that she’s still being kept in the dark. And she doesn’t know her dad was hospitalized because of the injuries her mom’s hitman inflicted. Stella is actively trying to kill Stolas and their daughter thinks Stolas is at fault.

Octavia is a sheltered teenager who isn’t being informed about what’s going on with the adults in her life. And Stolas in particular is keeping her out of the loop. He doesn’t realize that she’s growing up, becoming independent, and needs to know about what’s happening. Until she finds out the truth of her parent’s marriage she’s going to keep blaming Stolas. Maybe the trailer is faking us out but I get the feeling that the rift growing between Via and her dad is going to break wide open before they reconcile. I really hope Stolas will be able to tell her that yes, he never loved her mother, but he’s always loved his little starfire.

[yolli-es]

I’m so sorry I loved your yandere jinx headcanons I was just wondering if we could get a alphabet yandere jinx since we both love it

Yandere!Jinx alphabet 💥

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mentions of death, mentions of blood, PROBABLY some points were misunderstood by me due to not knowing the language. LET ME KNOW IF I GOT IT WRONG!

Yandere!Jinx was liked by so many people :D

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Physical contact is number one on her list of "how to show people you're not disgusted by them." She certainly showers you with attention before the relationship begins, but you will notice a dramatic difference once it's official. Jinx tried to keep her boundaries and stay away from you for at least a couple of hours. But why would she do it now? You always hold hands, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable. Even if you're in the middle of a shootout right now, don't worry; she has a gun that she can use with one hand. 

Most of the time, Jinx's hands reach out to you unconsciously. She doesn't worry about it much. 

Another way Jinx speaks is by suddenly becoming talkative. She is usually not eager to tell anyone anything about herself, even if it's something insignificant like her favorite food or what she did that day. But with you, she can't shut up, she wants to tell you everything, preferably twice. You'll notice that at some point she'll stop talking right in the middle of her story, awkwardly looking down. After the question "What next?" she starts to beam and continue as if nothing happened. She likes it when you really listen. 

Over time, Jinx will become greedier about this, and if you tell her "no," she will get angry. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Not really much messy. Jinx definitely won't just watch someone try to beat the crap out of you, but she won't destroy anyone who looks at you the wrong way either. More often than not, it ends with just one shot to the shoulder or knee. That was, is, and always will be the most clear explanation of why you shouldn't be killed.

She won't let them repeat what they started if one warning wasn't enough.

However, sometimes the voices get loud, and in a fit of rage, Jinx can kill a couple of people. Insecurity and doubts overcome her at such moments, and she sees no better way than to simply remove the threat and competition. She won't be sorry, but it certainly won't be part of her plan or desire.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Find yourself a replacement for Jinx, say you're going to leave, and she will kidnap you. She will never let you go so easily; it will not happen. Jinx will console herself with the fact that you are simply naive and stupid, that the other person took advantage of this, and now she is simply saving you from an irreparable mistake. After all, in reality, you do not want to leave her, and no one except her is really interesting to you, isn't it?

But Jinx isn't stupid after all. She knows what she's doing, and you definitely won't be thrilled by that. Jinx will be patient. As much as Jinx can be, of course. Yell at her, call her names, and try to break free; she will endure all this. Until you say that you will leave her forever, like everyone else before you. Her emotional breakdowns won't take long to come. During this, Jinx may scream, get angry, and even swing at you. But she will never hurt you, even if you are a pain in her ass. Even if you try to fight her, she will patiently endure the blows, simply immobilizing you and not causing additional damage.

Jinx didn't want to resort to it, and she's really worried that she's only made things worse.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Jinx will definitely control your every move and will be aware of everything that happens in your life. She sees nothing wrong with forbidding you to walk alone, communicate with certain people, and do dangerous work.

At first you'll even like it, but later you'll understand how suffocating it is. She won't leave you alone even in the shower, won't let you communicate with your childhood friend, and won't let you do your favorite archery. What once seemed like concern to you turned out to be just the whims of her insecurity.

"All this is too dangerous; you know that I want the best for you, trinkly?" Jinx will say for the thousandth time with the most innocent eyes in consolation, knowing full well that your opinion about this is of no interest to her. You know this, but you still fall for it, unable to escape its trap.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Jinx tells you a lot, but not everything. She finds it hard to be vulnerable with you, even though she knows how warmly you embrace her flaws. Whenever she thinks about telling you about her past, Mylo shuts her down. Jinx can't help but think that her past makes her a weak Powder, and you only need a strong Jinx. And she can't be a disappointment for you, that's what Claggor said to her. 

Only once will she be able to tell you her real name.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Surprise, adrenaline, pride, affection and a strong desire to suppress it.

She appreciates your fighting spirit, but she can't ignore your attempts at resistance, no matter how much she wants to. After all, it could become a problem in the future, and Jinx genuinely doesn't want to confront you in a serious fight. No matter how strong you are and how seriously you attack Jinx, all your attempts will be a joke in her eyes. You will never compare to her sister in this.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It depends on her mood, the weather, her plans for the day, and the noise level of the voices in her head that day. Jinx is very unpredictable, so one moment she's laughing and counting to ten, and the next she's threatening to amputate your legs. You know these are just threats, so Jinx has to chase you around the building until she catches you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

That moment when you told her you didn't need her and wanted to leave for the first time. That was when she kidnapped you, and you so desperately wanted freedom.

Jinx had definitely gone crazy, and the echoes of your words still tormented you both. Unfortunately, you said it too confidently, viciously, and sensually. Jinx was silent for a couple of seconds, while her breathing stopped, her pupils became wider, and her face turned pale. After realizing how serious this was, Jinx jumped up from her seat and rushed towards you. But not with the purpose of hitting, but only to put your tied hands on her throat. She didn't even cry while she frustratedly told you to kill her since you didn't need her under your hysterical screams and requests to forget about it. She looked so apathetic, broken, and disappointed that you began to hate yourself for it. Why did you say that? Do you hate this fragile girl so much? You couldn't stop thinking about it while you tearfully begged Jinx to stop strangling herself with your hands.

You apologized more than a hundred times that day, and you will never forget this the scene. It is truly traumatic to watch your beloved girl strangling herself with your hands because of the cruelty of your own words.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Next to her, and the rest is completely unimportant. Jinx never thinks about the future, wanting to live in the present. It is difficult for her to follow the plan in Zaun, so she can only hope.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

She's jealous as hell, and there's no better way to deal with it than to blow something up. Someone, to be precise. She won't be able to do this and will simply shoot them. Jinx is very insecure and thinks that everyone around her is a better option than her. She is afraid that you will also realize this as you become more sociable, so Jinx does everything possible to prevent this.

Jinx herself doesn't realize how jealous she is. Just doesn't want to realize. She won't take responsibility for it, so denying the problem is the best way to survive it.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

If you're here, it means Jinx is nearby and everyone knows it. She'll be back in a few minutes and let everyone see Jinx obsessed, dependent, and loving again. She won't hesitate to hold your hand, body, or even your ass in front of everyone. She doesn't indulge in kissing often, but sometimes Jinx feels the need to do it, even if it's awkward for you while everyone is watching.

She can't stay too far away from you; it physically hurts her.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

What would seem romantic and loving in Zaun? Protection and shelter for free. That's what Jinx did first. It seemed most logical to her to do it in a way you understand and only then resort to the romance she knows. Without saying a word to you, Jinx will sort out your problems as deftly as she creates her weapons. Still, the years with Silko take their toll, and even the most fearsome thugs are just children to her. Don't think too much, and just enjoy caring from Jinx before she gets too much.

Then don't be surprised when you see burning buildings in Piltover with the words "love my trinkly <3" written on them.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Jinx with you and Jinx without you are completely different, strangers to each other.

People who have never dealt with Jinx and see her for the first time with you mistakenly think that she is just a petty idiot and everyone around is afraid of her for nothing. Never shows violence, uses small guns, and is just busy with you most of the time.

And then they meet the real Jinx. She still seems harmless, but her aura is suddenly completely different. You don't know what to expect. Laugh at her, but don't shout too loudly when she jokingly rips your arm off because you weren't paying attention to her instructions. "Oh, it's not fatal; don't whine like that. Shut up and listen," Jinx smiles tightly, making funny faces. She'll give him the shimmer, but not right away; maybe it'll teach him to take life-threatening situations right in front of them more seriously. Only then do they get it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Not too cruel, something like "no dessert this time." Jinx doesn't see you as particularly dangerous or serious about escaping.

But what if she senses it? Jinx will lock you away somewhere for an indefinite period of time again. If you were close to escaping, be prepared for heavy security measures and possibly no chance of ever getting out. There are no windows, minimal furniture, and belongings; your hands and feet will always be chained to the wall. Don't make her do soft upholstery in the room; don't hit yourself the walls.

Jinx may punish you during sex, but it will be playful and for pleasure.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

It's easier to say that you will be allowed to do basic things like eating food, have a safe hobby, go outside, participate in safe deliveries, attend negotiations, and help Jinx in the workshop. Of course, all this together with Jinx and nothing more.

Remember, she does all this out of caring.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

As I said, as patient as Jinx can be. She forgives you a lot of things. A lot, but not everything.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. This will be the end for her.

One can only imagine what she will do. Kill herself? Go completely mad? Blow up all of Piltover? Start a war? Perhaps she will do all of these things in order. Jinx's psyche is cracking every day, and you were the only one who supported her. Someone who would always be there and who she could rely on in difficult times. She did everything she could just to know that you would feel all the love, care, and acceptance from Jinx. If you abandon her like everyone else after all this, then what is left for her to exist for? All the good will be destroyed by her own hands, and she will not be able to forgive for it.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

She let you go when you confessed your love to her, and your relationship became official. Of course, not right away and only after Jinx was convinced of it. Sometimes she even doubts her sensitivity to the emotions and real desires of other people.

She regrets that abducting you, but she'll do it again if she feels the need. Jinx just hopes it doesn't affect you too traumatically and that you understand why she's doing it.

For love and only for love.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Jinx has always had her own peculiarities, and after Vi and Silco left her, they only made the problems she already had worse. Insecurity, a sense of worthlessness, and weakness haunt her every day. She desperately needs to have support, someone she can trust and not be afraid of being abandoned again.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Shit. It's like her soul was turned inside out.

Jinx is very good at understanding people's emotions and their intentions. After spending a lot of time with you, Jinx can tell by just one look that something was wrong with you. And she immediately starts feeling the same way. No matter how good she feels, everything changes if you feel differently. So when you scream, cry, and are completely broken, Jinx feels the same way. It's hard for her to be supportive at that moment because grief has overwhelmed her too. But she still will be there, always. And no matter how shitty or super good you feel, Jinx will always share your feelings.

Only once did she manage to look at you blankly while you cried and screamed, pleading with her to forget your words.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

While other yandere act by the rule "you will be mine!", Jinx is more like "I beg you to be mine".

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None. Sorry, but she is too smart and sensitive to understand your true intentions. All that remains is to hope for her mercy.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, no, and no again. Jinx wants you to stay, not break.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

You are the only one who looks good in her eyes in any state and the only one who attracts her sexually. She will definitely idolize you, although she may not tell about it.

Jinx will also do anything. Tell her to make you president, and she will. Don't be silly about it; Jinx will take your task seriously and will expect love and appreciation in return.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? (This is the question that I couldn't understand, so the answer is short)

Not for long. Jinx is impatient, and her feelings weigh on her more than most people.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No matter how carefully Jinx treats you, no matter how loving and patient she tries to be, you will still break. It is impossible to be sane when your entire world is filled with just one person. There will be too much Jinx and too little of the other world. You will also face a lot of manipulation just to stay with her, many of which will be traumatic.

And yet, you love Jinx. You did.

I spent 4 hours of my life on this, and I'm still not happy with the result. It could have been better, but I'm just tired of writing this, and it might be noticeable in the end..

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello i know that i resquest so much but I love your work so can you do more of little Mikaelson baby sister with Hayley where yn is with her and baby hope Hayley treats yn like other daughters because she love her so much that she is sad when yn cry

If I Were Your Mother

Baby Mikaelson sister reader x Hayley Marshall (and everyone else)

Warnings: Mikael being an ass, death?

A/n: This is set during later season 2, we're gonna forget about Jackson and Hayley together. We're gonna pretend that everyone is happy and Klaus and Hayley don't fight about what's best for Hope or try to take her away from each other every other episode and are actually good together.

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

Mikael is back. Davina brought him back from the other side almost a year ago. You've seen Kol and Finn in their new bodies and were completely freaked out by Finn. He had tried to kill you. You wouldn't leave your brothers or Hayley's side no longer than five minutes for almost two weeks.

Mikael had boomed into the abattoir, white oak stake in his hand, ready to kill. He laid his eyes on you the moment you ran into the room where you heard a familiar man's voice yelling. You regretted it as soon as you saw your father. The same father who had been tracking you and your siblings down for the past millennia.

You had thought Nik had already killed him, he told you he had. Did he lie?

Mikael went straight to you. You loudly screamed and tried to vamp speed out of the way, but he was too fast for you. He had caught you in his arms and pressed the stake right at your tiny chest.

As soon as your loud scream pierced the walls of the old building, the room was immediately full of your older siblings; Bekah, Nik, and Lijah, as well as Marcel and Hayley, whom you'd grown really close with since she was pregnant in the early months.

"LET HER GO" Klaus bellowed, his eyes flash a striking amber. His anger is through the roof, no one touches his baby sister and lives, no one. He starts to stalk his way over, followed by Elijah.

"Don't come any closer, boys" Mikael spat at them. You whimpered loudly as tears ran down your reddened cheeks. All you want is your big brothers.

"No" You hit your father's shoulder and tried to pull away from him. All that does is make his grip on you tighten to a painful extent. Even with your vampire healing, it hurts tremendously.

Veins appear under Hayley's eyes, enraged at Mikael for even going near the poor little girl. She uses her hybrid strength and lunges at him. She knocks the white oak stake out of his hands and bites him on the shoulder opposite you. She takes you into her arms and quickly vamps you back over to Marcel before returning to Mikael, along with Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah.

Your big sister grabbed the stake into her hand and vamped towards where Elijah and Klaus were pinning Mikael down each on one side and Hayley's arm was wrapped tightly around his neck. She shoved the stake right through Mikael's heart. Flames blaze across Mikael's body and clothing. His screams echoed through the whole compound.

They all backed away from the burning corpse of the vampire who hunts vampires, watching as he burned from the inside out.

Marcel had you tucked against his chest, hand on the back of your head so you didn't have to watch the fight going down. You sobbed into his shirt, scared out of your mind. You want, you want Hayley.

She was the one who took you from Mikael. You pull away once Marcel's grip slackens a bit after Mikael burns.

You outstretch your arms towards the hybrid. Hayley quickly comes over to you and brings you into her arms gently. She turns back around to the other three originals, Klaus has a hurt look on his face, clearly wishing you had wanted him.

Hayley feels guilty, mouthing 'I'm sorry' to him. Elijah nods in response to her before looking at his younger brother and Rebekah places a hand on his shoulder.

"She has no means to hurt you, Nik. Don't think about it too much. She loves all of us" Rebekah whispers to him. Klaus takes a deep breath before nodding in response to her. He knows he shouldn't hold it against you, you may be over 1000 years old, but you're 2 years old, with a mind and thoughts that come with it, even as a vampire. And he knows you love him, he shouldn't hold it against you.

He nods to Hayley, a smile twitching at his lips, before turning to the burnt to a crisp corpse.

"Well, we should tend to the trash, shall we, sister?" Klaus smirks towards Rebekah. "We shall" She smirks back to him.

Klaus walks over to your tiny, shaking body in Hayley's arms and places a hand on the back of your head before kissing your forehead. He then goes over to their father, putting his arms behind his back as he brainstorms what to do next.

Rebekah walks over to the two of you next and places a kiss on the crown of your head. "I love you, sweetie" She runs her hand through your soft hair before going over to where Nik and Elijah are.

Hayley walks towards the stairs, nodding at Marcel, to which he nods back before walking off to the room he was in before Mikael showed up.

She bounces you in her arms, trying to soothe and calm you down. "Oh, It's okay, Baby. He's gone. He's gone now" She holds you close. you lean into her warmth and grip your pudgy hands on her shirt.

"No need to cry no more," She says, starting to tear up herself. She walks into her room and opens the door to the nursery. She goes over to the crib where a baby Hope lays, eyes open, looking up at the mobile. And now her eyes land on her Mama and you.

You hear the tiny mewling sounds from Hope, and look up from Hayley's chest to the baby. you let go of her shirt with one hand and reach to Hope.

Hope sits up from where she was lying down, looking up at you. She has loved you from the start, even though she can't talk yet, but knows that love is returned back from you

"You want some time with Hope?" Hayley asks you. You've been obsessed with the baby girl since before she was born, you love her just as much as Hayley and Klaus. You immediately nod your head, "Hopey" you say and let out a grin even with the tear tracks on your face.

Hayley lowers you into the crib with her daughter and watches how you immediately get into a silent conversation with her. You both giggle and play together with the small toys scattered in the crib.

She watches as you both play, a smile on her face. If she could adopt you as her own daughter as well, she would have no second thoughts and do it in one fell swoop. But she knows that your family loves you a great deal.

If she were to be your mother, she would love you so much. She would give you the childhood and life you deserve. She would care for you as a mother like she has been for over a year. There's no way she can express just how much she loves you.

"I love you both so much," She tells you both, watching as you cuddle with each other into the soft blanket. Hope has two pacifiers in her hands. She hands one over to you the best she can and you take it in your tiny from her just as tiny hand.

Hope puts the other in her mouth, just as you put the one she handed you into yours. You both suck on the pacifiers, tiny suckling noises filling the room.

Hayley tries not to physically aww at the action. Both of her babies sucking on soothers. She knows you're older than a normal age of a 'baby', but you're just as a baby as Hope is in her eyes. And the same goes for the eyes of your big siblings.

Klaus walks into the bedroom not long after you and Hope doze off, curled into one another. He looks around the room, "Where's my baby sister?" He asks, worried about you after the event of earlier in the day.

"Shh" she holds a finger up to her lips before nodding down at the dark wooden crib.

He follows her instructions and looks down at the crib, his face softening right away. He watches as his two baby girls sleep, sucking on the pacifiers.

Hayley pulls him into the other room, closing the door so she doesn't wake you two up.

"Is Mikael dealt with? Gone for good?" She asks him. "Yes, he shall not return, never again. the look on her face, I- I froze, he was going to kill her. And it was my fault" His voice wavers.

"Hey, it's not your fault, and nothing happened. That asshole deserves what he got and everything that's coming his way in hell. You're her big brother, Y/n loves you so much" Hayley pulls the elder into a hug.

Klaus stiffens at first before melting into her arms, breathing in her scent. After ten more seconds, he backs away, looking into her eyes, vulnerability shining through them. He covers it back up before his eyebrows scrunch together and a glint in his eyes.

"Was Y/n using a pacifier?" a smile plays on his lips. "Yeah, our daughter thought she would want one and gave one to her.,. Obviously, she was right. I have a feeling they're not going to allow us to separate them for a while" Hayley chuckles lightly.

"I assume that's the same for you with her as well" He crosses his arms, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Fair enough" Hayley smirks back to him.

You don't leave Hayley and Hope's side for a little while. You love it when you're all having a cuddle session with Hayley or Klaus, or both of them. The pacifier also is starting to seem like a constant. The only one to have a bad word against it is Elijah, saying that you don't need to develop a bad habit of always wanting one. But that's quickly stopped when Rebekah dragged him out of the room and nicely explained how their baby sister using a soother is at the bottom of the list of their concerns.

You love Hayley, Hope, and your siblings to the moon and back.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Becca and Butchers Child

Requested: Firstly HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!! ﾟ+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ.+ﾟ. Secondly, could u write like some headcanon about being Butcher's child (like who is two years older than Ryan) and how other members from the boys (+ maybe Soldier boy, cause of season 3 and how he would interact with them :3) - anon

A/N: Thank you my love!!! In the headcanon I made reader 10+ years older so they'd be at least 18 by the time they found out about Becca and Ryan, I hope you don't mind!! That way they can be part of The Boys and grow up with them, if that makes sense? I also had a very similar request of a headcanon so I'm basing it off that so there's some background :) I love this request!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Headcanon Pt. 1 / Headcanon Pt. 2

Butcher knew he couldn't take care of you. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights at bars, searching the city for your mom. Your perfect grades were slipping, you were getting into fights at school, you were emulating him. He knew how dangerous that was. First with your Aunt, then your Great Aunt, until you tracked him down all these years later. He still has a picture of you in his wallet, a baby picture that's creased and faded. You and Becca. You've grown up since then, though. And you're angry. He insist you go back to Judy, pretend you never saw or heard what you did, but you refuse. You want to pick a fight with him. You want to yell and scream and get out eight years worth of grief. He understands where you're coming from, he does. He never wanted to be like his father and yet, in so many ways, that's exactly who he was. Your relationship will never be what it is. That's not possible anymore. You have to learn to deal with one another now, in the present, instead of the happy kid you used to be, instead of the dad he used to be. It hurts you both to think about the past, who you could have been instead of who you are.

Hughie isn't really sure what to do with you. There's no doubt you're Butcher's kid. He's still relatively new to the team, so he just assumed this was something else Butcher hadn't shared with him. When he realizes no one knew about your existence, he's shocked. You, like your father, gravitate towards Hughie for reasons you can't put into words. You'll let him sit next to you when you're watching TV and maybe even talk to him if you're in the right mood. You don't shoot daggers at him like you try with everyone else. Similar to a cat, he's someone you can stand to be around. He comes to your defense a lot, especially when you stumble in drunk and pass out for the day. He's sure if any of them had been raised by Butcher, or at least the outside relatives, they would have turned out exactly like you. He can't blame you for being angry, or pissed, or hurt. He can see the hurt better than anyone else no matter how much you try to hide it. He thinks you just need some time and empathy to get straightened out. The least they can do is offer that, right?

Annie has no idea what to do with you. She tried smiling and talking to you, but you didn't want anything to do with her. She reminds you too much of your Aunt. She always said you should be happier, bubblier, that you were so smiley as a kid. You couldn't live in the past like her, with her. Too much had changed. Hughie assures her it's nothing against her, you're just getting used to things. She thinks it's sweet how you're attracted to Hughie. He's the only one you mildly respect and even, once in a blue moon, listens to. She doesn't take it too personally considering you're ready to rip your fathers head off. It could be a lot worse. Over time you see that Annie and Hughie are together and that definitely earns her some points. Annie can't imagine what your life must have looked like, all those years mourning your mother and father, all those years spent with relatives just doing their best. She understood why you were so angry all the time, so cagey and spiky. She doesn't hold it against you.

M.M. feels conflicted. Betrayed isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing he can come up with. He never 100% trusted Butcher. He was always going behind everyone's backs, doing what he wanted despite the good of the team, etc. He was destructive, combative, and spiteful. But, he thought they knew each other better than that. When he met you he couldn't deny you were Butcher's. Your mannerisms, the crazed look in your eye when you were upset, it all matched your father. He can't help but see you like how he sees Janine, even if you're much older: a victim of Vought. A generational curse. You're stubborn, and angry, and distant all because of what's been done to you, all because of Homelander. If your mom had been around, if Homelander had never done what he'd done, you'd still have your perfect family. He feels this need to protect you the same way he does with your father, even if you both fight him on it, even if you don't want or deserve it. He can't help it.

Frenchie doesn't trust you the same way he doesn't trust your father. He especially doesn't like that you and Kimiko are so close. She doesn't tell him anything about your conversations, knowing it would completely break your trust if she did. He believes Butcher would hide something as big and important as a child. He knows what your family can be like. Lying, drunken, selfish, vengeful. You're only a few of those things, not that he can tell the difference. You know Frenchie isn't your biggest fan, so you love messing with him, teasing him, rubbing it in his face that you and Kimiko are close. Similar to your father, Frenchie thinks this isn't the kind of place for you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. M.M. might feel fatherly towards you, but Frenchie sees you as a Mini Butcher, just another handful no one on the team can deal with. You yell and scream and fight and drink. That proves to him you're still a child despite it all.

Kimiko adores you. Despite the difference in circumstances, she sees a lot of herself in you. Ripped from your family, angry and hostile and doing everything in your power not to get hurt again. Besides Hughie, you'd warm up to her second. You're actually incredibly smart despite never applying yourself and pick up the signs pretty quickly. Whatever you can't sign, you write to her, wanting your conversations to stay secret. You show her the pictures of your mom that you kept all these years, telling her all about the good times you had before she disappeared. When you see Butcher you instantly grow hostile, angry all over again, and the person she saw, the person she was just talking to who was kind, and thoughtful, and smart totally disappears. When you blast your angry music she never minds. In fact, she quite likes it, adding it to her own playlist. She doesn't look at you like you need fixing or, worse, need to get out of here.

Bonus! Homelander always knew about you. Becca was more than willing to talk about you and Billy to co-workers. He even remembers taking that picture with you that one Christmas. He's kept an eye on you through the years, but you never seemed like the vengeful type. You never knew what happened after your father abandoned you. He does, however, use it as leverage against Becca. Remember the kid you left behind? Seems like she's got favorites. Becca agonizes over leaving you, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. He uses you to keep her there, in her place. He gives her updates, usually to make her feel bad. You're kid drinks way too much, did you know that? Of course you didn't. He loves to tell her that Butcher abandoned you all those years ago. He loves to see that it absolutely kills her. He's not worried about you coming after him. You've got to work through your issues before you get to him and therapy for a lifetime couldn't get you an Butcher on the same page.

Bonus! Soldier Boy would actually get along with you. I think you'd have a Worst Dad Competition and though you're close, you definitely think you win. You two share a drink and you tell him all about your dear old dad. "No wonder you turned out like this." Ben says, pouring you more. Hughie urges you to slow down, but you have a high tolerance. Ben, to piss of Butcher, will always take your side in arguments and uses what you told him against him. "You dumped them off and never looked back. Now you're parenting?" Butcher absolutely hates it. You tell him about your mom, how much she loved you, how she was killed. You don't mention Ryan though, knowing Ben's go to answer would be to seek revenge. You have a lot of complicated feelings around your brother, but you still have a burning Hatred for Homelander. You make Ben promise he'll kill him. He does, even if it means killing his son. You two bond really fast. Neither Hughie nor Butcher trusts it or him, but you do.

[lostaurorax]

girlfriend-boyfriend

pairing | nick bosa x fem!reader

authors note | hi guys 😊😊 i am alive & well. life has been very crazy lately but i feel like i always return at this time of the year write a few fics then disappear sooo here i am again! i love nick and their is no fanfic for him on here :( yet again here i am writing fanfic for an underrated nfl player 😉 i hope you enjoy this i love you sm and hope you’re all well!!!! lmk if you want more or have any reqs for me pls <33333

you and nick had been seeing eachother for a few months now. you had meet through mutual friends and you instantly clicked. once the NFL season started he had you in a suite at every single game. you absolutely loved making friends with all of the players partners and watching nick play every sunday.

it was the last game before the super bowl that would determine if the 49ers made it or not. you and all of the girls had been on the edge of your seats the whole game. the 49ers were currently 17-24 against the detroit lions.

the lions had fumbled the ball and the 49ers got it back. purdy threw to kittle and got a touchdown then made the field goal making the score 27-24.

“oh my gosh!!! yes yes we still got it!” you screamed as you hugged claire who was george’s wife

“omg y/n i think we’re gonna make it!!!” she screamed back and you hugged eachother

“oh i know we are.” you said back to her intently watching the game

the 49ers had gotten another touchdown and then the lions got one 2 minutes later. the score was still 34-31 and the 99ers were in the lead. a few minutes of waiting for the clock to run out was the most nerve racking few minutes of your life.

“and the san francisco 49ers are going to the super bowl!!” the announcers had said causing mayhem to erupt in the stadium

“THEY DID IT!!!!!!!” you screamed to kristin and claire as you all hugged each other.

“HELL YEAH BABY WERE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWl!!!” kristin said excitedly

“let’s go see our men!!!” claire said as you all left the suite giddily to join your boys on the field

you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest as you walked on the field looking around for nick. you weren’t exactly an official couple but everyone knew you were together because you were always with him and he was always with you, but you never said that you were boyfriend-girlfriend.

“do you think he’s gonna ask you?” claire whispered in your ear as you were walking towards the boys. secretly she had known nicks plane as george had already told her but she would never ruin a surprise and a little teasing never hurts.

“what? uhh i don’t know….do you think he will?” you replied nervously as you looked at her

“if he doesn’t ill have george kill him.” she said with a wink as you walked up to george, nick, and kyle

“oh my gosh i’m so proud of you!!!” you said with a big smile as soon as you saw nick in front of you

“couldn’t of done it without you watching of course.” he said with a smile just as big as he engulfed you in a hug

“i knew you could do it.” you whispered to him as you hugged him back. you were meet with silence for a moment as he just held you and rubbed his hand up and down your back

you had no idea that behind you george and claire had been scolding him to ask you

“so y/n..” he said as he slowly pulled away so he could look at you as he talked

“yes nicky?” you said using the nickname he hated but you loved calling him

“wanna come to vegas with me…as my girlfriend?” he said with a shy smile

“oh nick yes, i would love too!” you said happily as your lips meet with his.

“yeah buddy!!!!” george said from behind

“God finally. i thought i was gonna have to ask her for you…” christian said as olivia lightly pushed his arm

“YAY Y/N!!! you’re officially one of us now!!!!” kristin said as she and the girls also smiled

“alright alright! let’s go party and win this thing!!!” nick said causing everyone to cheer and disperse to party for the rest of the night

once everyone was gone you turned back to nick.

“is it too early to say i love you? honestly i don’t care because i do.” you said as you rested your chin on his chest

“i love you more y/n. forever.” he said as he leaned down to kiss you

“lets go party girlfriend…” nick said cheekily as he pulled away and stuck his arm out for you to grab

“sure thing boyfriend..” you said back with a big smile as you wrapped your arm around his and walked him to the locker room

[mikanotes]

happy sweet home season 2 release everyone!!! i just watched the final ep and started screaming. here’s something quick! greetings from, lee eunhyuk x gn!reader, warning sweet home season 2 spoilers possibly ooc eunhyuk im trying to decide how different he shld be, mentions of scars. cheers

“Took you long enough.”

Eunhyuk scoffs silently, hands buttoning up a white shirt over his figure. Unharmed. Clean. Possibly unstoppable, now. His gaze is on his own reflection but his focus is on you, sitting nearby with your back towards him.

“Mm.” he hums, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Did you miss me?” he asks, something like a teasing tone to his voice.

You turn to look at him through the mirror and he raises his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and turn back. “No.”

Eunhyuk smirks a little at that. He tugs at his collar to make sure his shirt looks fine, out of habit, then heaves a deep sigh and turns around. He walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and sits at your side, eyes on the book in your hands.

“Is that why you kept things for me?”

Clothes. A pair of glasses. Books he used to read during your time at Green Home.

“Who said they were for you?”

Eunhyuk is dead. Anyone from Green Home would have agreed with this statement. This fact. But you refused to believe it. Parting ways with the rest of the survivors you knew (as well as the only other person who shared your feelings on this matter), avoiding the military and living in isolation, you had decided to try and make living bearable. Settling in an old apartment in a small building near the river. With enough practice from before, you had traps settled around the place and at least one or two weapons.

You used to stay at the shelter at the stadium, but hated all about it. It was much too many people and too much change all at once. No matter how organized it was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay. So you left, and made your own home.

Maybe it was luck that you came back to check on Green Home a day after Eunhyuk came back.

(Maybe it was meant to be.)

“How long have you been living here?” he asks quietly. He watches your eyes scan the page on your book, watches the twitch of your lips when you hum in thought, watches every detail that he missed during this time. Time passes weirdly in the state he was in, and a lot changes. A lot doesn’t. Like feelings. “I missed you.”

You turn to look at him and he tilts his head. His expression is serious and his voice is as steady as it always is.

“Thank god, you survived.”

You stare at him for a while, silent, before looking away. “You didn’t even give me time to answer.” you sigh. “It’s been ten months here. I spent two at a shelter before I got sick of it.”

“Was it bad?”

“Terrible.” you say, “I’m sorry I left Eunyu there. She can handle herself well enough, though.”

Eunhyuk sighs at that. That’s a whole other problem. At least she’s alright. “I’ll find her eventually.” he nods to himself, gaze on the floor. “I have a lot of people to find, anyways.”

“You’re so strange.” you comment, suddenly closing your book and shifting your whole attention to him. Eunhyuk does the same in turn, gaze focused on yours.

“As in?”

“You’ve changed.”

Eunhyuk blinks slowly, before narrowing his eyes. You’re not wrong. But not right either.

“You too.”

You reach your hand to his face and hold the side of it gently. He tilts his head slightly into your palm, not breaking eye contact. It was worth waiting, even if just to see you again. Your eyes are colder and your skin gained a few more scars. He’s mildly annoyed he couldn’t keep away anything that hurt you, though he knows it simply wasn’t possible. He could direct his anger towards the other people that were with you.

But humans are just so… weak. How could anyone ever count on them?

“In any case, you don’t have to worry anymore.” he says, sounding almost cold. “Not even a little bit.”

He’s here, now, and he intends to make sure you won’t have to change more than you already have because of this hellish world.

[lovebvni]

repetition (a pick-a-pile)

in honor of my friends kai ( @klxudykai )and nile (who doesn’t want to be tagged), i want to do a little pap! this will be black white and purple themed for them too (their pfp colours)

i know both of them are going through cycles of repeating their actions over and over, and it is hard for them. i know it’s frustrating — hell i hate repetition. but you find peace in it.

this pick-a-pile is just advice for your manifesting and/or shifting journey. there is no real theme, but i asked spirit to bring up something you need to repeat for each pile.

this pap is intuition and shufflemancy-based. i am not using tarot nor cards at all for this. this is also for entertainment purposes. take my words with a grain of salt AND please do not use this as legal or life advice.

now, inhale and exhale. believe in your intuition, and pick a picture.

[1 ; 2

3 ; 4]

pile 1 the spiral.

hi pile 1! here’s confirmation for your pile : cycles, crying, cynical, the letter c (in your name of in the name of your significant other. casey and clark stand out.), puns, clairaudience, crown, clowns, (a lot of words w the letter c jesus christ..), underwater, drowning, sinking, the sea, oceans, water (s), fix your face, black, sexism, activist, reality shifter, cyclones, spirals, “i feel like im not seeing any signs/progress”

well pile one, you could feel like you are stuck in a cycle. just a torpedo and you’re getting hit with the same things over and over. you’re wondering why things aren’t changing, why this won’t end, but it’s because YOU won’t change. this is the harshest i think i have ever been in a pick a card, but you really need to get over yourself. realize you aren’t the person you should be, throw that person away and reinvent yourself. you want a lot in life, and you aren’t going to get it if you don’t decide to change yourself. the universe chose you for a reason, but if you keep having your own pity party, you aren’t gonna get anywhere. stop getting mad when you’re being told the truth. it isn’t there to hurt you. it’s there to help you. the truth is a tool. and as long as you keep ignoring it, you keep hiding from the monster inside your closet, it’s never gonna leave. it’s gonna haunt you. it’s like a negative spirit. lure it out and keep it coming. it is gonna hurt, but it’s worth it.

your required repetition is “continue to listen and change yourself. transformation.”

the waiting season is one where you need to work, don’t keep sulking.

now to interpreting your song, her by poppy. you have been trying to be someone else that you are not, for someone else. the chorus

“I'm getting to know her And all of her anger You won't recognize her If you encountered I'm getting to know her And all of her anger Picked herself up Put her back together”

you need to change and you know it, and you don’t know how. start with your anger, your sadness, a strong emotion and unravel it. unwrap it like a gift. keep pulling to you get to the root of the cause — hold it.. nurture it… and get the mud off it.

see this as a new start, pile one. i love you. you need to know you’re strong, and you can do this. don’t get annoyed, because i know you’ve been told this before. fix your face.

pile 2 ghouls

hello pile 2! here’s confirmation this is your pile!!: fairies, love, purple, green, heart chakra and third eye chakra, shadows, “on a silver platter”, polite, scars, romance, sacred, girl blogger, skull and bones, doja cat, fear of success, screaming, pink, sexuality, white, sensuality, fire and ice, opposites, blood, self sabotage, royalty, alternative, goth, knight, disability, multilingual, this specific dynamic, vampire

simplicity. simplify everything. that’s all spirit is saying. don’t over complicate things. that’s like all spirit is saying u guys 😭😭

they r literally saying clear your mind, just be the person you are meant to be. listen to your intuition, be creative, have love in your heart, even when times are hard, and let emotions flow.

spirit told me your manifestations are actively coming in 😭😭 idek why you’re reading this pac! like there are no notes, nothing else you need to do. just listen to your intuition and be in tune with yourself. god i love this pile bc yall r js so sweet and light hearted — like there’s so much hidden positivity here that’s waiting to come out.

good job on how far you’ve come, and hav fun where you’re going! love you pile 2!

pile 3 — unclear memory

hi pile 3! here’s your confirmation: “even a worm will turn”, disappointment, ditsy, protector, big eyes, proposal, hobbit core, hermitcraft, minecraft, silence, under another’s control, blush, light colours (pastels), resting, new opportunities, distractions, distant, chapell roan, wlw.

you’re over possessive but you cut out your heart. or someone else cut it out. you need to get your priorities straight. there’s so much going on in your brain. they all lead to the same thing, don’t they? like how a spider web meets in the middle.

you’re sad, i can tell, but you won’t let anyone know. you think you’ve done enough, or even too much, but in reality you’ve been distracted. you’re trying to hide your main in overworking. doing too much.

your repeating advice is “get back on track and focus on your morals”.

but dont become some else. become yourself. stop holding grudges. get yourself back.

pile 4 — kisses

hi pile 4! here’s confirmation this is your pile: shadow work, brooklyn nine-nine, wolf pack, furry, july, suicidal but continuing, height difference, jumbled thoughts, flowers, blue and pink, wash off the makeup, ombré, counting crows poem.

this is my dogs favorite song 😭😭

pile four, you have been looking for outer validation when you don’t need it. you’re searching for signs, for love, for confirmation you’re on the right path when you really jay need yourself. you’re putting yourself down and other people/the universe on a pedestal. YOU ARE THE UNIVERSE!! REALIZE THAT!

what you say goes. what you want will happen. and that’s that.

your advice is as follows ; “you need to just rest.”

and i think that’s great advice. sit down and relax. listen to music, meditate, be at peace. work on yourself. try journaling too!! it will help.

thank yall for reading!! <3 i hope this helps someone. finishing this at 5:55 pm btw!!