#if the killing isn’t necessary then he’s just a bad person :( (to himself)

[bytebun]

ok. I understand the v*shwood shipping now. relationship btwn two guys for whom hope is a skill.

[paymechildsupport]

Teacher!Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Reader // Teacher!Sukuna HC's <3

(THIS IS NOT STUDENT X TEACHER, READER IS NOT A STUDENT!)

Personally, I think it’s an actual crime there isn’t more teacher!sukuna content out there. I’ve only ever seen one fan art of it, and ever since I’ve been scrounging around on my hands and knees to find more

So m’ gonna just do it myself 🙏 

-!! [AFAB + AMAB] READER (HC’s involving reader’s bodily autonomy have both a female and male vers. → brief smut drabble at the end)    [everyone's in on this one👏]

-!! Reader is a rather powerful sorcerer 

-!! CW: Slight possessiveness (mainly for the short smut at the end → overstimulation, dacryphilia, slight size kink(?), mention of double cocks for og form Sukuna)

-!! Veeeery slight nod to manga spoiler if you squint. If you don’t know it 99% certain you won’t pick up on it

-!! Sukuna being a bit of a softy for his SO

3k+ words

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————

Awhile (around a good few centuries) ago, Ryomen Sukuna came to the conclusion that no, this was in fact not the way he wanted to live his life. He decided to put everything behind him; the bloodshed, the death, the massacres, and cannibalisms— (okay maybe that stayed the same)— all the things that essentially made his staple as the King of Curses. He’s a changed curse, he swears it. Honestly? Human food? Not that bad. Kinda worth changing his world view for 

With a changed work ethic, and a changed heart, Ryomen Sukuna made the conscious decision to become a teacher, — specifically a teacher in sorcery

—————-

Ryomen Sukuna works at Jujutsu Tech,-- the infamous King of Curses, who predominantly spends most of his days helping ungrateful brats obtain the necessary skills to kill his kind

→”No, you thick-skinned brat, you’re doing it all wrong!”

    “I’m sorry, Sukuna-sensei! I’m trying,--.. I really am! Could you maybe go over it one more time–”

             “No! You’re going to die all alone as your friends are tortured mercilessly!”

“How could you say that…” 🥺 

Following the fateful passing of Yuji Itadori’s grandpa, the poor kid awakened as a sorcerer with a rather nasty supply of cursed energy; a complete abnormality with an aura suspiciously like that of a certain Ryomen Sukuna… 

→ “The little brat is not living with me” 

“Awh, c’mon Sukuna-!! The kid’s a ticking time bomb to disaster, he needs help controlling his cursed energy, and who better to help than the amazing King of Curses himself!” 

“Shut up, Satoru Gojo.” 

“Ohoho~... looks like someone isn’t happy to become a single mother~~” 

“What-!? Single moth– fool, you yourself are a single mother” 

“...oh, yeah. Hehe… 😚”

“I hate it here…😒”  

Now, with the additional burden of personally attending to Yuji Itadori, there was only one thing keeping Ryomen Sukuna from completely imploding: 

You. His partner, his lover, his spouse, his anchor,-- the only source of light in his miserable, cursed life, – the sole person keeping him from reverting back to his old, murderous ways. 

Meeting a few years back, the ancient curse could’ve sworn the world got a dozen shades lighter the second his eyes landed on your form in the Tokyo crowd. Where everyone was actively moving away from his looming, intimidating hulk of a body, you looked at him with eyes void of the fear reflected off so many others. 

You approached him with interest, recognizing his unmistakable aura for that of the King of Curses, – and, to his utmost shock, – you proceeded to have a perfectly normal, civilized conversation with him. Never once did you look at him like you would a monster. Every time he’d get lost in those eyes of yours, never once did he find anything short of pure love and affection. It was sickeningly sweet. 

There on a mission, you introduced yourself as a fellow Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

Ryomen Sukuna could’ve sworn he’d heard your name before: rather infamous with the higher-ups, you were a well-respected sorcerer. That only aided to his immense confusion: why would a sorcerer of such high esteem and all around regard even remotely think talking to him, the King of Curses, was a good idea? 

Absolutely flabbergasted and entranced from your first encounter, Ryomen Sukuna was practically completely at your mercy. It took very little for you to simply haul him over your shoulder and take him wherever; he’d soon become akin to a lost puppy with you. 

Ryomen Sukuna is absolutely down-horrendous with his emotions. Hah, communication? Never heard of her. 

He’s never felt this deep for anyone before, and it terrifies him to no end. You terrify him to no end,-- the amount of power you have over him could be almost comical. 

At the start, he flat out avoided you altogether. Anytime he’d see you on campus he’d immediately start in the opposite direction. Anytime you’d attempt to strike up a conversation something would come up,-- he’d have to go somewhere, or the brats had gotten themselves in trouble again. And when Satoru Gojo found out about his little “crush”...  oh boy, the teasing was lethal.

It wasn’t long before he craved your touch, and Ryomen Sukuna started to enter withdrawal from your presence. You were brutal, the poison continuously being pumped into his veins, – which was extra ironic, considering he was after all the King of Poisons, – how the actual hell did he end up in such a position? What have you done to him? 

Man, he was cooked. 

With a lot of time, and a heck of a lot of patience, did the curse finally allow himself to reveal more of himself to you. 

It’s never been easy, – even after you two were married did Ryomen Sukuna still suck absolute ass at communicating his wants. 

He craved your attention, your gaze, your approval. You were the drug that he simply couldn’t get enough of. 

He’s not good with words, – in the past everything was just handed to him, – he had no clue how to actually work for someone’s affection. 

Please be patient with him, – he’s trying, he really is 🥺. No matter how much he denies it, no matter how much he complains he hates being dependent on someone, no matter how much he claims how meaningless love is, you both know deep down these feelings of deep admiration and affection aren’t one sided. Sometimes, that fact alone can get you through even his most frustrating of times. He pushes you away because he feels guilty, but almost immediately does he regret his actions and desire your presence more than anything. The things you do to him 

He lost his original form centuries ago, abandoning it after his near fatal confrontation with the sorcerers of the Heian Era. Gravely wounded, he absolved to staying hidden, laying low in the shadows. Sometimes he wished he still had that form, – still had his four arms, his two faces– he felt stronger, prettier in that body. Despite how much you told him how beautiful his current, two-armed form was, he wonders if you would’ve liked his original form– what it could do, how it could please your body. (But most of all he missed his two massive cocks to shove deep inside you–)

Ryomen Sukuna is very insecure about his image as the feared “King of Curses”. He’d be seen as weak, like he’d gone soft, – if anyone found out about you. That did little to deter you from showering him with your affections though <3 Even if he struggled to receive such affections–:

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing–” 

“What? Am I not allowed to visit my darling husband at his job?” 

“No- ..! Who exactly do you think you are, you can’t just waltz into wherever to embarrass me–” You were in an empty classroom in what would be the normal time for lunch. The students would be out eating, so it was only you and him.

“Is that really all you think I do? Embarrass you?” You fought to conceal the pained expression threatening to bubble up to the surface. 

“Yes! Do you know what they’ll think of me if they see me with you? He snaps angrily

“Are you.. Ashamed of me?” You blink 

“What-? No, of course not” His face contorts into a scowl 

“Then why can’t people see me with you?!” 

“That’s not what I meant–” He hisses 

“Yeah?” you retort, “then, what did you mean by that?” 

“I–....”  Ryomen Sukuna only ever seems to find himself short of words with you

Nodding curtly, “I’ll take my leave then” you make your way to the door 

“Wait-” you pause, he hated seeing you upset. It made him feel hopeless, it made him feel weak. “tsk, nevermind. Leave then” 

Huffing, you step out the door. Your second foot never even leaves the threshold before you’re lifted up by a pair of strong arms. 

“Gah-! Ryomen– what the hell?!” 

“Shut up.” the curse growls, placing you down on the nearest desk with a surprising gentleness, “just shut up.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck

You smile, accustomed to his brazenness, knowing this was him succumbing to his own affections for you.

“I’ll be quieter next time.” 

“Mmm… don’t be”

“Oh?” you quirk an eyebrow, “are you no longer embarrassed of being seen with me?” 

“No,” he grumbles, “if any pathetic worm dares to utter something against me, I’ll cleave their head off” 

Chuckling, “charming”

“I’ll do it for you too” that part he whispers, so low you almost miss it. Almost. 

“Awh, you’d slaughter anyone putting dirt on my name? And they say romance is dead 🥰” 

“Shut the hell up.” 

-------------

Sukuna Ryomen would have a special ringer set for you in his phone so whenever you’d text him he’d know it was you 

He never responds to anyone’s texts,-- anyone’s that’s not yours. 

The second he hears that notification that man is immediately scrolling. It took him years to figure out how to work a telephone,-- and he still kinda sucks at it. So it takes him a while to respond, – he’s just a slow typer :) 

He’ll be in the middle of sparring with Yuji for his training when he’ll hear your notification and swiftly whip out his phone, – still in the middle of fighting. Poor Yuji will still be sweating his ass off trying his very diddly darn hardest to land a singular punch and he won't even glance up from his phone 😭

It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, – the guy could be in the middle of fighting a Special Grade and he’d start texting you about what he wants for dinner while simultaneously throwing slashes 😟

Not big on PDA, – but alone? Man, you can’t get the bastard off you, – blud’s clingier than a kitten 😭he just really likes being nice and snuggled up in your arms 

Alone, will often call you, – regardless of gender, – doll, (whore), sweetheart (if you’re not being a pain in the ass), – possessive lil’ shit and likes to add ‘my’ in front of any pet name, just to enforce the fact that you’re his. 

Calls you karasu –(Japanese word for raven) 

Sukuna Ryomen is incredibly picky with what he eats, (unless it’s your ass–)     – he needs his meals done in a very specific way, otherwise he’s just not eating. It needs to be your meals too. If bro forgets to bring lunch or you don’t have time to make one for him he just starves. He’s an absolute menace when hangry– super grumpy. None of the students can stand him hungry, – and he refuses to defile his delicate palette with fast food of all horrible things

You got some of those cute cookie cutters for sandwiches and gave him little star sandwiches one day for his lunch. Mans was over the fucking moon. His ass refuses to ever eat another sandwich again unless its cut into cute lil’ shapes 🤏🥺

Be careful if you ever decide to visit him at work after a certain amount of times, cuz he will make you useful: using you as a sparring partner, giving you chores, making an example out of you to the other students. 

You’re strong enough to hold your own against the King of Curses in a quick spar, – which really only means you won’t get immediately eviscerated upon throwing hands. 

You’re strong, but nowhere near as strong as Ryomen Sukuna. 

He’d only give you a cocky smirk, telling you to hurry up and lock in. You stare at the expecting faces of Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – who you naturally have grown a rather close bond to, being around each other so often. He gives you a reassuring thumbs up, smiling with an expectant glamor. You gulp, glancing back at your husband who has the most shit-eating grin on his face. Oh, you were cooked. 

You manage to successfully dodge at least two strong attacks before being thrown onto your ass, the wind knocked out of you. Huffing, you scramble up, irritation giving you newfound determination. The King only raises an eyebrow at you. 

You explode into a sprint, dashing up behind him, seemingly catching him off-guard. You lean in real close to his ear, whispering in a sultry tone: 

“Your shoelace is untied” 

“What, I’m not even wearing shoelaces–” and he gets thrown into the nearest tree, snapping it in half. 

“Hahah!!” 

“No way, Sukuna just got his ass handed to him!” Nobara exclaims, grinning

“That was so cool!” gushes Yuji, sending a wave of pride flowing through you at his excitement. 

It is short lived, as your husband comes up behind you, glaring with a burning passion in his eyes. 

“You totally beat him up, you sent him flying–” Megumi slaps a hand to Yuji’s mouth, his rambling getting choked off with a “mmph-!” 

His smile is laced with dynamite as Sukuna dismisses the students early. Confused, but mostly relieved, the trio scurry away, Nobara and Yuji shouting cheery goodbyes over their shoulders. 

Only you were close enough to see the raging lust in the King of Curse’s many eyes. His gaze rakes over your body, tensed in a fight or flight state, predatory. You swallow, hard, chuckling nervously, “Heheheh…”  

Oh man, you were so horribly, undoubtedly cooked. 

(short smut begins below line)

----------

[AFAB vers.]

Sukuna is brutal, hips smashing against yours, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, slamming himself particularly hard into your leaking heat, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the teacher’s desk– his desk–  in his empty classroom, – only being held by Sukuna’s deadly grip. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  he punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, a look of pure bliss on your face. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his long, cursed life. 

-------------

[AMAB vers.]

Sukuna is cruel, hips smashing against your ass, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. He fucks you, bent over the desk, – his desk, in his empty classroom,-- and shaking like a pathetic mutt. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, large hand closing around your swollen, throbbing cock. Your eyes widen in horror as he begins to jerk you off at a grueling pace, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the desk only held by Sukuna’s torso. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  He punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, syncing with a violent pump to your cock, limpand emptied out. “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. You're so drained, already milked dry, a few meager squirts of cum dripping from your cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, the look of utter worship on your face enough for him to harden once again inside of you. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his tedious, damned life. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sukuna brain-rot goes hard-!! He's such a goofy lil' guy, I love him :3

[watashijeon]

Mon Ange. | KTH

listen while reading — Is there someone else The Weeknd

— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —

You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.

Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.

"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.

“I have to tell you something.”

Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.

He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.

"I think we should end our arrangement."

Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?

Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.

You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.

He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.

“Well, go on then.”

Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.

“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.

“I do, bye.”

He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.

Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.

But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?

“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.

And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.

How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.

You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.

The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.

He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.

…

He pauses.

Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.

He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.

In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.

Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.

You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.

Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.

Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.

He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.

Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.

Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.

It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.

Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.

He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.

Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.

Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.

The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.

“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”

It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.

“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”

Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?

“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”

“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.

“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”

“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.

Ping

If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.

It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.

“What is this all for?”

His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”

“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”

Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.

He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.

So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.

He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.

“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”

“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”

He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.

“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”

Click.

He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.

Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.

“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.

It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.

Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.

Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.

He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.

15 minutes before

It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.

He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.

“Tae..?”

Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.

You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.

“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.

Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.

It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.

Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.

That helped some.

Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.

Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.

It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.

You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”

God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.

He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.

Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.

It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.

But why did he want to stay selfishly so.

Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..

Corny and sappy he thinks.

He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.

Present

All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.

Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.

It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.

You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.

You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.

“Hello?”

“Hmmmhmm, hello.”

There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.

“Yes, Taehyung?”

There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.

“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.

Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.

Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.

You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.

Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.

But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.

All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.

He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.

You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.

Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.

You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.

“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”

His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.

You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”

It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.

He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”

It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.

It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.

You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”

Silence, absolutely nothing back.

“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”

Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.

Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.

He won’t comment on it properly, never does.

“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.

“What? Stop mumbling.”

He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.

“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.

That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.

The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.

Are you going to do well without me?

Are we ever going to be okay?

Will we ever be fine?

You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.

It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.

Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.

Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.

You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.

You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.

It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.

Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.

You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.

But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.

You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.

You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.

“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.

You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.

But why are you still laying here.. melting away.

He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.

Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.

His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.

"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.

"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.

Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.

You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.

He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.

"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”

"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.

"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."

You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.

He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.

He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.

Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.

Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.

It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.

Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.

Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.

You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.

Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.

So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.

“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”

He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.

"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.

The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.

Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”

Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.

Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.

He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”

Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.

“So perfect, all for me, hm.”

You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.

“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.

The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."

She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.

Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.

“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.

He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”

Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.

"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”

“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”

“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.

feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.

“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”

“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.

Back and forth, back and forth.

An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.

He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.

"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."

His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.

“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”

“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.

The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.

You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.

“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.

Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.

Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.

The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.

He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.

"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.

“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.

“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.

He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.

You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’

He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.

“Y-you, you, fuck!”

It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.

Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.

“Again.”

You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.

He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.

“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.

“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.

Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."

"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."

"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."

"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"

Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.

"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."

Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.

"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.

At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.

The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.

"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”

He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.

“Want to show this cunt off to the world."

“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.

“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.

“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.

He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.

It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.

You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.

That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.

Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.

Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”

Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.

“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”

You don’t answer.

“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.

The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.

It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.

While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.

You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.

Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.

Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.

Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.

It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.

“Tae..? You there?”

He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.

“Do you know what you are?”

You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”

It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.

“You’re my girl.”

You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.

“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”

He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.

[cupcakeslushie]

I know that Hamatos are all really confused about what happened to Donnie, but I can see April getting legitimately pissed and starting down every lead she can find to dig up the truth detective style. Because messing with people and being a bully is one thing, but manipulating and abusing someone enough to change their personality is another. And she messed with HER family. And “you’ve done it now- when I get you I swear to god-“

Not sure if April would find anything but I can see her initial reaction being frustration rather than confusion.

@starrobot96 @snipersiniora

I’m honestly leaning more towards Raph and April having the most intense reactions to what’s been done to Donnie. Raph, because he’s still dealing with his own Krang trauma. So Kendra messing with his little brother, similar to what was done to him. That’s gonna make him want to rip her apart. I don’t think he’d kill her. But Kendra is definitely not getting out of this Scott free.

Raph will more than likely be leading the charge in Donnie’s rescue, because I don’t think he would go with them willingly, and Raph’s not about to make Leo or Mikey be the one to drag Don away while he’s screaming and resisting. Raph would take that role solely onto himself.

Leo is way out of his comfort zone. During the actual search, he’s more serious than he’s been since the invasion. Thinking that everything will be okay once they can just get Donnie home. But when they do, one desperate, good-natured joke has Donnie terrified of even looking at Leo. From then on, Leo makes that distance bigger, by avoiding Donnie, scared of setting of another panic attack. Even when Donnie starts to reach out, Leo is now hesitant to say anything. That was their whole type of sibling dynamic, ribbing and joking with each other. But now Donnie is like a stranger.

Mikey really hammers away with the toxic positivity. It’s not his fault. He’s just so out of his depth. He’s not a baby, but this is intense stuff. Trauma that he always steered away from in his Dr. Feeling research. But now that knowledge is necessary…looking into it really takes a toll on his own mental well being, bad enough that Splinter sees and puts a stop to it.

April is frustrated with her own investigative ability, and feels guilty, because Kendra wouldn’t have even known about Donnie, if she hadn’t asked him to come by her school. We know, that’s more than likely NOT true, as the boys run into criminals all the time, but April isn’t thinking logically.

Im still not sure about the exact how’s of Donnie’s rescue, but April will probably be the one he latches onto most in the aftermath. The fake simulations with her, were never as bad as the ones with his brothers (ie physically painful) so even though he would be scared to talk to her, and be seen as annoying, Donnie will let her get the closest to help him. He goes from trying to desperately please Kendra, to trying to desperately please April, and it makes her insanely uncomfortable. But she doesn’t want to scare him off when he’s not giving any of them many openings to help. She has to be very careful with walking that line between helping Donnie recover, and making things worse by enabling all of Kendra’s programming.

April’s really gonna carry the brunt of Donnie’s recovery.

[emo-batboy]

Okay what is this I keep hearing about Harvery Dent and Bruce Wayne being caught kissing???? Storytime?

Okay so this is probably a much longer winded story than I’m sure you expected but here’s my whole explanation of Harvey/Two-Face in the Battinson universe:

I always like to imagine that there is a distinct difference between Harvey and Two-Face. In this world, Harvey is regarded as an accomplished man suffering from DID who is forced to live in Arkham to keep his second personality, Two-Face, behind bars. Meanwhile, Two-Face is a notorious crime boss and master manipulator. They share the same body, yes, and it almost impossible to tell them apart sometimes, yes, but Bruce is the only person that can reliably tell who is in control.

You see, over the years, Two-Face has become an expert at pretending to be Harvey, so much so that the guards at Arkham just refer to them as Dent now. There have been several incidents where doctors believed Harvey was somehow cured of his DID and they gave him more privileges due to “good behavior,” only for Two-Face to bash a prison guard’s skull in while trying to escape.

But the one person he can’t fool is Bruce, the man who knows Harvey so intimately that he can examine his facial features down to the micro expression.

They thought they would get married one day, Bruce and Harvey. It was sickeningly sweet. They were so madly in love. Then the accident worsened Harvey’s condition. Bruce will never forgive Two-Face for taking his true love away from him.

Bruce visits Arkham once a week to see Harvey. Only the guards know about their past relationship because the two can’t stop giving one another heart eyes while they play chess and tell each other about their day. They’ll talk for hours, and it’s no secret that a pretty, Bambi-eyed, lovestruck Brucie Wayne will pay off any guard to see his “friend” for another fifteen minutes or so.

But sometimes, Bruce walks into the room, sees Dent’s face, and immediately storms out. Because it’s Two-Face. Posing as his former lover, wearing his lips and cheeks and nose, but the eyes are just wrong, all wrong, and he’s giving Bruce a smile that isn’t even close to Harvey’s gorgeous smile. And it’s sick. The guards can’t tell, the other patients prisoners can’t tell, no one else can tell but oh, Bruce can fucking tell.

On other days, Bruce will be talking with Harvey one second, only to stop mid-sentence, scowl at him, and say, “Give him back. I’m not talking to you.”

Two-Face breaks into a grin. “I can never pull one over on you, can I, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up. Where is he?”

“He says he loves you, and you look very nice.”

Bruce has been held back by the guards several times for this very reason. He blames himself that they can’t hold hands during visits anymore. Instead, they talk through that stupid fucking glass, but at least they get a private room. The guards now know that even if pretty Brucie Wayne looks sweet and delicate when talking to Harvey, he can also throw a decent punch.

On good weeks, it’ll be nothing but soft words and smiles.

“I finally bought those chocolates you recommended,” Bruce says.

Harvey smiles. “Did you like them?”

“I did. Thank you.”

On bad weeks, Bruce will leave with hot tears streaming down his face, and the guards will treat Two-Face just a little harsher than necessary as they escort him back to his cell.

Sometimes, it’s a mix of both. Even rarer are the days when Harvey comes back right before Bruce leaves to say goodbye to his angel. Those moments are the most tender because they all know Harvey has trouble taking control back. But he did it for Bruce, just to make him smile again before they parted ways.

One day, however, a guard thinks he can flirt with Bruce. He makes a move when no one’s looking and receives an answer in the form of a black eye. Only a day later, he gets maimed by Dent and lands in the hospital. Bruce learns about it during his next visit.

“Your boyfriend’s other half tried to kill that guard last week,” another guard tells him.

“The one that grabbed my ass?”

“Two-Face put him in a coma.”

Bruce chuckles and picks at a loose thread from his dress shirt. “What you makes you so sure it was Two-Face?”

No guard tries making a move on Arkham’s favorite visitor again. And the star-crossed lovers keep seeing one another and confessing their undying love. Even after they accept their fate. Even when Bruce tells Harvey about Selina and how he’s slowly falling in love with her too. But something is holding him back.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Bruce whispers.

“I don’t either,” Harvey says, tracing his love’s hand through the bulletproof glass, “but I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m happy with you.” Bruce was always a crybaby, but he hates crying in here the most.

“You can be happy with me in here. But I can’t bear to be the reason you’re not happy out there.”

After a bit more convincing, Bruce finally agrees. Before beginning a new relationship, he tells Selina about him and Harvey, tells her that it’s non-negotiable, and she accepts it.

The next time Dent breaks out of Arkham, Selina gets a visitor. “Break his heart, and I’ll drown you in the pier,” he says.

Selina smiles as her hoard of cats purr against the stranger. Maybe they can tell just like Bruce can. Or maybe this is Two-Face doing Harvey a favor. Either way, she doesn’t particularly care.

Selina gives him a once-over and nods. “Likewise.”

Anyway, yes, that is my BruHarvey lore. Hope you enjoyed :)

@bruciemilf this is right up your alley, bestie

[inheartofwinter]

Drarry Fic Rec List: Us Vs The World

The list I want to show you to day is one I especially adore: fics with strong vibe of "us against the world". They could be good, they could be bad, they could save the world, they could destroy it, they could simply go on with their lives. No matter what, they will always have each other.

- Hell & Other Places (M; 2,5k) by @tepre

OR: 9 times Draco said ‘I love you’ and 1 time he didn’t.

Draco & Harry are sent to investigate a haunted Bed & Breakfast.

- Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis (E; 49999) by @vukovich

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead.

But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

Harry brushes it off until he can't. Until The Prophet is flooded with sightings of dead people. Until Robards throws himself on his sword. Until Ron turns on his own family. Until Harry scarcely trusts his own reflection in the mirror and trusts the stranger in his bed even less.

Until all that stands between war and peace is Harry, a name plate, a stadium of murderers, and Draco Malfoy.

God save the Ministry.

- Basement Level 9 (M; 2k) by @fw00shy

Draco was behind the bomb that blew up Level 10, though they didn't talk about it.

- Stay with Me 'Til Morning (R; 8,4k) by Lucilla Darkate

In a once upon a time world, white magic would triumph over black, good would carry the day, evil would be vanquished, the valiant would stand and be true, and always, always, true love would end with a happily ever after.

- Purple Words (E; 67k) by FangirlWolfie

“High five me.”

James immediately put Harry down and gave him a high five.

Huh?

Oh.

- In Grey Worsted (M; 2,8k) by literaryspell

Harry's only chance at happiness is slipping away, one piece at a time. He isn’t about to give up, though.

- Ever Fixed Mark (T; 1,1k) by @shealwaysreads

In which Harry decides to burn the world, and Draco watches on with adoration.

Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no, it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

- Dead Ends (E; 18,8k) by @toxik-angel & @melcarrianna

Head Auror Harry Potter is the best at his job. Head Auror Harry Potter always saves the day.

But someone has been picking off ex-Death Eaters one by one. Someone has been abducting Harry's friends right out of their homes. Someone is fucking the Minister for Magic.

The Minister for Magic and Head Auror are both very concerned about it.

- Because Potter Is Allergic to Poppies (M; 41,1k) by Lomonaaeren

Auror Harry Potter is in hospital being treated for a curse when someone tries to kill him. Obviously it is up to bored, trapped Apprentice Healer Draco, who was only admitted to the Healer Program in the first place to do the menial work, to find out who did it. Because then they will promote him. No, it’s for no other reason, thanks.

- Toujours pur (T; 21k) by Veralynn

"Malfoy would never confess truth to an enemy, and we’re enemies to him. That’s way I made a plan.”

“A rat,” Harry said.

“Exactly. Someone I can trust one hundred per cent about You-Know-Who. Someone who knows well Malfoy and his past. That makes you the perfect candidate.”

- REVOLVEVLOVER (E; 46,3k) by @firethesound & zeitgeistic

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

Career Choices: Harry: Hit Wizard; Draco: Anti-Government Extremist

- Who we are in the shadows (E; 99,7k) by @quicksilvermaid

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise?

Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself.

What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

- Draco Malfoy and the Heart of Slytherin (T; 34,9k) by sabershadowkat

At the heart of every Slytherin.

- The Boy and the Sleeping Prince (E; 26,7k) by @phoenix-acid & @writcraft

Harry is miserable and tired of being an Auror, coasting through life until he’s forced to make some changes. Spurred on by his passion for drawing and working with best-selling author Draco Malfoy, Harry develops a charm which gives children a magical, interactive reading experience. But when it’s time to test the spell, the two men find themselves trapped in a nightmarish fairy tale world. Can they escape unscathed, or is Draco right in his assertions that there is no such thing as a happily ever after?

Career Choices: Harry: Illustrator; Draco: Writer

- When Death Comes Calling (T; 2,6k) by @mystickitten42

It’s All Hallows’ Eve and as Harry investigates a string of seemingly related deaths, there’s one he hopes to prevent.

He looks over Harry’s shoulder and Harry turns too. They both see it, the dark translucent figure making its way to shore.

~ Or ~

Getting together in the face of Death. Literally.

- Servile (E; 68,5k) by calrissian18

“I would love anything you gifted me, My Lord, but this,” silver eyes, the same shade as the dragon that marked Harry's arm, glinted in his direction under the Death Eater’s hood, “is exquisite.”

- The Corruption Sequence series (E; 94,2k) by beren

Harry Potter is captured by Voldemort and the Dark Lord has plans for him that involve the essence of many different dark creatures. What Voldemort cannot know is that the presence of Draco Malfoy will affect the outcome of his plots and change everything.

- More Powerful Then Experience (M; 89,7k) by flightinflame

Harry's life changes when he is three, when his parents are murdered and the Dark Lord takes him to raise as his own.

Draco's life changes when he is six, when he finds himself given to a strange green-eyed boy who speaks Parseltongue and casts impossible magic.

Remus's life changes three years later, when a chance meeting proves to him that somehow James and Lily's son is still alive.

- The Gryffindor Prince (G; 6,3k) by @mfingenius

“Do not come near us again, evil Slytherins!” he exclaims, pointing his wand towards them again. Pansy and Blaise look more amused than anything, really, but they hold up their hands in surrender. 

“Alright,” Pansy says, agreeably enough, a smirk on her face. “But Potter, Draco’s a Slytherin, like us. He’ll have to come back eventually.”

Harry’s eyes narrow, and, a moment later, he is throwing Draco over his shoulder, arm tight across the back of his thighs so he won’t fall, and Draco yelps.

Have fun reading!

[maxwapan]

too spacious when you’re lonely

leon s. kennedy x male!reader

word count. 5.3k

cws. incest, stepbrother leon, pee, reader w bad bladder issues lol, crude language, handjobs, humping, OOC leon (duh), boring mid sexual encounter cause it’s leon, crude language

note. this is my first fic including dark(?) content so it’s wonky and mid and the overall flow of it is boring but whatever I tried my best. It’s not necessarily dark it’s just weird and icky and me just rambling lol :3 also the pee part comes out of nowhere sorry LMAO like ur just flashed

Leon Kennedy has always been the type to lead girls on, whether it be for one thing or another, he just didn’t care. Everything was a one-time thing to him. That hook-up last week, that promise he made to a buddy, that girl he had accidentally gotten pregnant… it all went in one ear and out the other.

He was a massive asshole, that much was clear to anyone with basic comprehension levels. But no one gave a fuck, because as long as you’re hot enough you’re given a free pass to do whatever you want. He knew that he was hot, yeah, but that’s like, normal. He’s only ever been surrounded by hot people his entire life. Why would he want to willingly hang out with someone who isn’t? That’s weird. No hot person does that unless they want something from you. Or they feel bad, which is probably worse.

Leon doesn’t hang out with you at all. He’s your stepbrother, so one would think he’d at least spare you a glance or a nod, right? No, no, not at all. You’re a fleeting thought to him. An “oh yeah, I forgot” type of topic. And that’s fine. It’s not like you’re the most socially indulgent type of person in the world. You’re not anything interesting. That’s why you’re not worth bullying either. Not worth some abrupt pantsing or name-calling— whatever big brothers are supposed to do with their younger siblings. Nada.

That kind of irks you. Kind of. Leon goes out of his way to make anyone he hangs out with miserable by just being himself, yet he avoids you like the plague.

It’s not purposeful, ‘cause he couldn’t care less about you— and that’s what grinds your gears.

Your mom marries some random cop who just so happens to have a kid your age, and now what? Aren’t you supposed to be a part of some picture-perfect family now? Because that’s not what it feels like. It just feels odd. You have to go downstairs for breakfast and dinner now, have a movie night every Friday, and whatever other cheesy nonsense your mom deems necessary. Where was all of that before? It’s annoying to think about. You don’t want to get all buddy-buddy with people you don’t even know or could care less about.

They probably feel the same way about you, which, whatever. The feeling is mutual. There’s just something about Leon in particular that gets on your nerves the most.

It’s just everything about him. His stupid blue eyes, his stupid side-swept hair, and his especially stupid smile. You’d punch his nose back into place if you could. Everyone else adores him. They practically kiss his ass and pucker up their lips to give him a nice rimming. It’s disgusting.

It’s a no-brainer that you’re jealous. Yeah, and what of it? It’s not like you want people to start looking at you as if you shit gold or something, but would it kill someone to notice you every once in a while? What’s Leon got that you don’t? Who’s dick is he sucking to get this many people tailing after him like lost puppies? And where can you meet them? All this who, what, why questioning is starting to hurt your brain, that’s all you know.

It’s hot in your room, and the ceiling fan’s low speed only manages to thrust more warm air towards you. The useless thing never works the way it’s supposed to. Restless, you sit up in your bed, running a hand through your mussed-up hair with an anxious sigh.

The sound of lively chatting and dishes clattering downstairs makes your ears perk, straining to hear what is going on. Something, something about your mom leaving for work soon, something else about your stepdad needing to fix the A/C… you lose interest and stop listening, eyes darting over to the alarm clock beside your bed, messily decorated with stickers and other knick-knacks.

9:04 AM.

It’s a Wednesday, which means both of your parents will be busy. Normally, you’d enjoy a day to yourself, but not this one. Wednesdays, if you’re unlucky, Leon will stay home to invite his friends over, the cute ones that have no personality or self-respect. If you’re lucky, he’ll bring home the ditzy blonde girl and Spanish-speaking man. They’re cute.

Leon definitely fucks the blonde. You’ve seen her press her chest up against his arm and sputter out nonsense as an excuse to get close.

You can’t help but frown at the memory. She’s cute as fuck, and he just sits there like an idiot, nodding along to whatever she was saying, a distant look in his eyes as if he were thinking about something else. What else does he have to think about other than the tits being offered to him on a silver platter? Dick?

Your mom calls out your name, startling you out of your foul mood.

“Come have breakfast!” She says, sounding like she was in the middle of something else way more important than you. You’re grown, you don’t need the reminder— or the attention. Maybe.

You don’t bother changing into something else, simply swiping some invisible lint off of your shirt and pushing back some hair from your face before heading downstairs, the old wood creaking under your weight.

You take the last step down, and Instantly, you’re hit with the smell of bacon and pancakes. Your mouth waters, stomach rumbling. Glancing around, you see your mom walking out the front door, keys in hand. No stepdad, and no Leon either. Either he already ate or he’s still asleep, neither of which you can bother to care about right now. Taking your seat in your respective chair, you began to eat your fill.

A mix of pancakes, strawberries, and bacon are all shoveled into your mouth, fork occasionally scratching against the porcelain of your plate and making you wince. Your mom makes good food. It makes up for all the other stuff she lacks, at least. It’s not like she has to make something good to get you to eat though. Caught up in getting your belly full, you miss the familiar creaking of wood coming downstairs.

“It’s early in the morning and you’re already stuffing your face.”

You feel your heart lurch, the pancakes passing down your throat almost getting stuck. Coughing, you wipe at your mouth with the corner of your sleeve, glaring over at your stepbrother, who isn’t even looking at you. Leon was rummaging through the fridge, snaking his hand in between some condiments to grab a protein shake. The same one his dad takes.

Oh, so he’s talking to you now? Is what’s snarked out in your head, but anxiety makes you flounder, wondering if he was speaking to you or not. Awkwardly, you slow down your movements, fork stabbing into the pancakes you were eating, now soggy with syrup. Eyes dashing up to steal a glance, you almost die right then and there when you accidentally make eye contact, meekly pushing your plate away and standing up to leave.

“What? Don’t want to eat with me or something?” Leon’s sarcastic tone stops you in your tracks, the mere attention making your heart rabbit against your chest— and not in a good way. Shit, man. What do you even say in a situation like this? What do you say at all? It’s not a big deal to most, but it is to you. It’s not like Leon talks to you every day, after all.

You open your mouth to speak, lips dry and tongue heavy.

“I’m just kidding.” He mutters, arm flexing as he rapidly shakes his protein shake, uncapping the drink before taking a swing.

Your words die out immediately, left gaping like a fish out of water. Just kidding? So he didn’t want to talk to you at all? You don’t know if you’re relieved or miserable, but your chest hurts, as if the mere situation has taken years off your lifespan. Gasping quietly, you nod, bunching your sweaty hands up into fists, as if the action would ground you.

“O—oh..‘kay, yeah…” You lick your lips, eyes on the floor beneath your feet. “I mean, would you want me to…?” Trailing off, heat rises to your cheeks, a feeling of inadequacy making you tremble lightly. Oh my god, you’re pathetic. You’re not hurt exactly, but something about him being able to shrug you off so easily like that stings. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but in the worst possible way.

Leon turns his head a little to look at you, his eyebrows pinching. He looks… concerned? No, that’s pity, you think. He’s pitying you, probably thinking about how unfortunate it is that you’re his weird little brother with no friends and social ineptitude. He probably thinks that you want to hang out with him too. You’d rather die, but you felt bad. That’s the only reason you even spoke in the first place. Honest.

“I mean,” you repeat helplessly, feeling as though you were digging yourself into a deeper hole. But your mouth kept running, seemingly out of your control. “I j-just thought that—“

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind…?” Leon cuts you off, looking back at the food set out on the table, most of it gone now. The sentence sounded forced, like he felt like he had to say it. Not that he needed to. He doesn’t wait for you, sitting down on a chair and serving himself some of the remaining food, occasionally giving you looks. Ones you couldn’t pinpoint the emotion behind. That’s scary. This is scary.

“You… okay?” Leon asks reluctantly. He’d rather be focused on something else right now, like who texted what and whatever, but he has to play the big brother role, right? His attempt at expressing care is lackluster, but at least it’s something. He has to care, but it’s not necessarily a want. If you didn’t look like you were about to shit yourself right now, he’d probably be less attentive, but you’re stuck in place and trembling like a sickly dog, and he’s a little concerned. Just a little.

He doesn’t want to get blamed by your parents for something that happened to you, or anything else like that.

You don’t answer him, and he gets a little creeped out. You don’t blame him, considering how fucking weird you’re being. Anyone, anyone at all talks to you, and you freak out like a girl wearing white on her period. Stomach churning, adrenaline makes you feel like you’re falling, the blood draining from your skin making you look as sickly as you felt. Leon’s worried now, considering the odd look he gives you, any thought of food currently abandoned.

He’s looking at you as if you were covered in blood or something, like Carrie at prom. He raises his brows and his eyes widen, jerking back a little as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What was he seeing? Are you really that freakish or something? What’s up with his face?

A sudden splatter of liquid against the wooden floors makes you look down, gasping at the sight you’re greeted with.

Pee.

You’re fucking pissing yourself.

Hands clutching at your crotch, you sputter, mortified and embarrassed, tears welling in your eyes. “O—oh! Oh my god, uhm, I- I didn’t mean to…” More liquid gushes. Your bladder has completely lost control of itself in response to your failure at trying to act like a proper human being. You wince at the loud sound, Leon doing the same. He just stares, and you just stare. You both stare at the growing puddle, at the mess, at your ruined pants— at you.

It’s all overwhelming, enough to make you burst into tears. Which you do. Fat, salty drops run down your cheeks, and you resort to the only thing you know how to do in a situation like this. Apologize like a fucking loser.

“I- I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean… fuck..! Sorry, I’m sorry!”

Leon doesn’t know what to say, really. Does he laugh? Make a face? Offer to help?

He cringes instead, raising a hand to try and stop your babbling. “It’s okay, It’s okay…” He speaks quietly as if trying to console a frantic animal. “Just— just don’t move, you’re… ugh…” He hasn’t even gotten up from his seat yet, but he does now, slowly rising and forgetting about breakfast. That always seems to happen to him somehow.

“Are you done?…” He asks, unsure if he should approach or not, his body tense with confusion. “I mean, with-“

“Yes! Yes,” You sniffle, dreading your existence. You pray to anyone, anything, to just kill you right now. To strike you down. “I— I’m done… I think… don’t look please…”

“It’s all over the floor…” Leon mumbles. Way to point out the obvious. Yes, you know it’s all over on the floor. You know it’ll seep through if you don’t clean it soon. But that’s the last thing on your mind right now. Your stepbrother just watched you piss yourself out of pure gut-wrenching anxiety. How have you not killed yourself yet? Maybe it’s the nerves, the fear of someone else walking in on you in this compromising situation and making a mockery of it. You could see the social media posts now.

‘Some yellow-bellied boy pissed himself because he’s too afraid to make conversation with someone supposed to be a part of his family’.

“I-” You choke, the dryness of your throat making you swallow thickly. “Can you h-help me?” You manage to get out the words, swallowing again. A tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a hot trail of moisture on your already-heated flesh. God, please say yes. You don’t think you could take any more embarrassing exchanges today– much less a rejection. Leon’s eyes flicker from the puddle of urine to the streaks of it running down your pant legs and back, over and over. It’s the one time you wish he could look at your face instead.

“Leon,” You plead, wiping your tears away messily.

“Right, right,” Leon inhales deeply, exhaling slowly to get a grasp of the situation. “yeah.”

He coughs into the sleeve of his letterman, “Can you walk to the bathroom?”

You fluster, brows furrowing.

“Of course I can,” You frown, sniffling. He’s treating you as if you’re mentally challenged, annoyance starting to swell in your chest.

Leon raises a brow, a silent question in his expression. “So do it then?” it says.

After some brief hesitation, you turn and fumble towards the bathroom, grimacing at the uncomfortable feel of your wet pants, the fabric rubbing against your skin nastily and making you feel itchy. You can hear Leon opening and closing some doors behind you, likely peering into the cleaning closet in an attempt to find something to clean the mess you left behind with. Hopefully he doesn’t use bleach, that doesn’t smell well when mixed with pee.

With shaky fingers, you flip the light switch up, illuminating the room in an instant. It smells nice in here ‘cause mom keeps it clean, who uses all sorts of chemicals and powders strong enough to knock anyone out. A whiff of urine makes your face screw up almost immediately though.

With a grunt, you pull your pants down clumsily, the material sliding down your legs with a wet noise after some effort and landing on the floor with a heavy plap. Hopefully the pee washes out. Those were your favorite pants. You follow up by removing your undies, letting them fall carelessly onto the floor beside your pants. Now you’re naked from the waist down, skin prickling with goosebumps. You really need a shower, like, right now.

“Hey,” Leon’s voice comes from behind, startling you. “I finished cleaning the… pee…” He trails off, eyes on your bare ass. For a moment, he stares, eyes eventually rising to your face— only to come down to your ass again. And again, face then ass. Mostly ass.

“Dude!” Your voice wavers, embarrassed. You turn your body to hide, but end up giving him a full view of your front too. “Get out!”

Leon keeps his eyes on you, slowly shutting the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

“I thought you wanted me to help you?” He says casually, his demeanor incomprehensible to you. He looks down at the discarded clothes on the floor, clicking his tongue and wrinkling his nose. “That’s… nasty.”

You stammer, words lost on you. Leon doesn’t wait for you to use your brain, moving forward, making you feel the need to step back.

“You know, most big brothers wouldn’t help their little brothers at all. Especially for situations like this.” He says quietly, eyes intently on your face now, making you squirm. Your hands clutch together at your front, feebly hiding your penis from view.

“S-so? What’s your point?” You glowered at him suspiciously, trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. You can’t help it. You’ve never gone this long talking to someone. It feels weird, but mostly dreadful. Stumbling over your words like a toddler is embarrassing, but they flow out faster than your thoughts can form.

Doesn’t help that your ass is bared too.

“My point is,” Leon rolled his eyes subtly, “you owe me.”

You squint your eyes. What?

“What? Owe you?”

“Owe me.” Leon confirmed with a nod.

Clearing your throat dryly, you lick your lips nervously.

“Okay,” Deep breaths, now, “owe you wh-what, exactly?”

Leon pauses, eyes glancing away for a moment before returning to yours.

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “That’s for me to worry about.”

Another pang of annoyance hits you, but this time it’s mixed with worry, making your chest tighten.

“Well then, are you going to help me or not?” You scowl. It’s unreasonably cold in the bathroom, the lack of warmth making you feel out of place. It feels like you’re talking to a stranger, and technically you are. Still, the only reason you can’t seem to figure anything out about Leon over a shallow level is because he’s annoyingly boring. Stupidly enigmatic; not in a cool way. Yeah, he’s popular in his little group of friends and what not, but that’s all he has going for him. He’s not interesting in the slightest.

Leon’s quiet for a moment, before vaguely gesturing to your top with a hand.

“Go on, get naked.”

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes.

“You know what I meant,” Leon counters, rolling his eyes openly now. “You act like I wanna gawk at you or something,” He scoffs, “what’s there to look at, huh?”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response, simply grumbling under your breath, hands moving to take your top off.

You throw the shirt down onto the pile of dirty clothes bunched together on the floor, eyes briefly lingering on the graphic design plastered on the front of it. Naked now, you turn and fumble with the shower curtain, pulling it back.

Leon approaches as you step in, reaching for the soap inside the shower caddy.

“What are you doing?” You chew on your bottom lip, tired of asking questions but unable to help the gnawing anxiety strumming through your ribs.

“Helping.” Leon simply states, taking off his jacket and hanging it beside the fresh towels. His biceps flex with every movement he makes, the muscles in his arms well-sculpted. The sight makes you frown, but you have no one but yourself to blame for not having a good physique.

You don’t question further; you don’t want to. All of the previous adrenaline has washed down, leaving exhaustion in its wake. With a quiet hum, you turn on the water, wincing at the cold spray that hits you.

Cursing under your breath, you mess around with the handles until you have a decent temperature, sighing in relief. Despite the uncomfortableness of being thrust into all of this, Leon seems to be taking it well, and that concerns you. What if he’s plotting something? What if you’re put in a stockade tomorrow for people to throw tomatoes at and sodomize?

Well, whatever. He probably has his embarrassing reasons. Any consequences are a problem for future you.

Cold hands make contact with your back, making you squirm. Despite the roughness of his skin, Leon is surprisingly gentle with you, the rough material of a washing rag delicately rubbing against your shoulders making you shiver. The soap smells good, at least. Like pine and some other fresh scent you couldn’t depict. Maybe it’s Irish.

Many thoughts run through your mind, most of them nonsensical and humiliating. Here you are, awkwardly standing still like a loser while your stepbrother helps wash you as if you were a vegetable. The way he touches you is oddly intimate. His hands brush against sensitive spots every few minutes or so, making you shudder.

But it feels nice, you suppose.

It’s nice to feel clean and not be covered with piss.

You close your eyes, tense muscles starting to relax. Leon notices, his hands now lathering shampoo in your hair.

“…you’re a weird one, you know?” He mutters.

You only hum. Yeah, so? He’s weird too. He’s weird for actually helping you out and cleaning your piss puddle off of the floor. And for… whatever this is. It’s definitely not a normal stepbrother activity, that you know. It feels kind of dirty, but the contact feels nice. Nice enough to make you almost melt into the touch. He doesn’t have the right to call you weird, but neither do you.

A hand splays on your chest, lightly squeezing one of your pecs.

Jolting, your eyes snap open. Inching away from the touch, you frown.

“I’m not a girl, pervert.”

“Could have fooled me.” Leon snarked bluntly, squeezing once more. This time he did it apprehensively, as if unsure of what he was doing.

At least he has the decency to properly clean you, thorough in where he reaches. He passes the rag all over your body, down your chest and in between your legs.

A weird flutter settles in your chest, pooling down to your belly. It’s not a special one or anything, it just feels weird. Not bad, not good. Just different. Letting out a shuddered breath, you grumble.

“Just help me to my room already.”

And Leon does. He rinses the suds off of you and drains the water, halfheartedly wrapping a towel around your frame before assisting you out of the shower. He half leads half carries (but mostly carries) you to your room, his body flush against yours, occasionally bumping into you. Something hard pokes at your butt, and you know what it is, but you don’t say anything. Your increase in heart rate does though.

Leon makes you feel small, you figured. He’s not mean to you or demanding, but something about his attentive behavior makes you bashful. It unfortunately makes you want more. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. Maybe mom and dad didn’t love you like you wanted them to. Leon doesn’t either, but this is fine. Any attention is good attention, as long as you can handle it without pissing yourself.

You’re pathetic for that, you know. You’re no bark and no bite, the worst of both worlds.

A towel ruffles your hair, interrupting your thoughts. Face scrunching up, you huff, withstanding the process as best as you could.

“Cold?” Leon asks gruffly, wrapping the towel he was using on your hair around your shoulders, accompanying the other one. It’s wet, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“Yeah,” You mumble, feeling shy. You’re trying your best to stay strong and confident, but the more the spotlight rests on you, the more vulnerable you feel.

Staring down at your lap, you fiddle with the towels surrounding you, trying not to pay attention to the weight of the spot beside you sagging, Leon’s body warm against your side. It’s odd, you think. His body is warm, but his hands are always cold.

He scoots closer, pausing for a moment when he’s flush against you, hesitating.

The tip of his nose presses against the top of your head, inhaling deeply. You shudder, but don’t move. Leon wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you both back into the bed.

“Smells nice,” He sighs, nosing the crook of your neck. The towels around you loosen their grasp, threatening to expose you completely. He doesn’t seem keen on releasing you any time soon, his movements slow but purposeful, curious. “Better than the pee smell.”

A soft noise escapes you, squirming slightly. “What’s up with you?…” You ask quietly, embarrassed. You know, yeah. He’s hard against your hip, pressing his crotch into you. Has he been hard the entire time? You wouldn’t know that, it’s not like you stare at his crotch 24/7. You know he’s hard right now, but you don’t know why.

“Dunno,” He says, holding you tightly against his chest, face pressing into your throat, “just like how you looked.”

You hum confusedly, an imploring look on your face.

“You know,” He groans, “the stupid look on your face. The one that looks like you got scared shitless. Like when you pissed yourself.”

That doesn’t make any sense, but okay. You don’t question his psyche.

You loll your head back, letting out a small breath. Like a fish on a hook, Leon’s reeled in immediately, his lips planting against the exposed flesh of your neck. He doesn’t kiss though, not yet. He rubs his face against you, like a cat claiming territory or a dog showing affection.

His hand finds your chest, squeezing just like he did at the shower. It makes you furrow your brows in displeasure, chewing on your bottom lip. “Don’t— that’s…” you grunt, “that’s for girls.”

“Feels like a girl’s tits to me,” Leon huffed snidely, ignoring your words and squeezing again. His fingers pinch your nipple lightly, toying with the bud.

His other hand snakes down your body, splaying out over your tummy. “Are all boys this soft?” He hums against your Adam's apple, finally using his lips to kiss at the spot. You mewl, slightly disoriented.

“No…” You close your eyes, “I don’t know… don’t you?”

“I’m not gay.”

You roll your eyes at that, pushing back against the mattress to get comfy.

“Me neither.”

The hand on your tummy trails down, fingers teasing your pubic region. You grunt, thighs spreading a little, a silent invitation. Your heart is pounding against your chest and your skin feels clammy, but this is the most attention you’ve had in days that isn’t coming from yourself.

Sighing heavily, you push your chest into the hand playing with it, feeling impatient.

“Leon…” You sigh again, agitation behind it.

Leon gives in, cupping your cock and balls in his free hand in one go, squeezing gently. He feels you up for a hot minute, grabbing you in his fist and starting to rub the length slowly.

You buck your hips slightly, moaning. The dual stimulation makes you feel all tingly, brain fuzzy with pleasant static. It’s nice enough to make you forget a thing or two, but Leon is being annoyingly slow. Not that you’d vocally complain.

He keeps his face buried in your neck, occasionally pecking at your skin or licking a sensitive spot. The heat of his breath against your already warm flesh makes you sweat. Uncomfortable, you tilt your head to the side.

Leon decides he can’t multitask, removing the hand on your chest to instead use it to tilt your head back to face him, his lips leaving your neck to kiss you on the corner of your mouth.

He pecks and kisses wantonly, but it’s nothing special. You move your mouth to his deliberately, pressing further for a deeper kiss. Leon’s a bit put off by the action, but he follows your lead, soon taking over by slotting his tongue into your mouth, slipping it through your parted lips.

Eyes drooping, you sigh into his mouth, suckling on the wet muscle lazily. Squeezing your thighs together subconsciously, you shudder at the amount of precum that has oozed from your tip to your balls, inner thighs sticky and wet. All this rubbing and squeezing is doing nothing for you, so you whine into Leon’s mouth.

He squeezes your dick in response, making you buck your hips again. But it’s not enough. Too little, too slow.

Panting, you pull back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Leon—“

His lips come crashing down into yours again, silencing you. Only making a soft noise of complaint, you go back to suckling on his tongue, pacified. Some part of you wonders if that’s how he jerks off his own cock. It would explain a lot, somehow.

Despite the slow pace, the squeezing and rubbing is a surprisingly nice change from the usual fast pumping you tend to do. It’s not much, but the more Leon does it, the more each squeeze is accompanied by a surge of pleasure, an exciting buzz settling in your tummy.

You start panting, whimpering softly now. Leon catches onto your oncoming orgasm pretty quickly, increasing the pressure in some of the contact while continuing to lick into your mouth all nastily. It’s sloppy and gross, the way you exchange saliva and spit with a man supposed to be your stepbrother. You couldn’t imagine anyone else doing this with you, though.

The lack of oxygen makes you dizzy, but that’s a nice addition to the flurry of sensations strumming through you right now. Moaning, you wrap your arms around Leon, clinging onto him tightly.

He bumps and grinds his cock against your hip, precum staining the front of his pants. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to fuck you though, content with dry humping your leg like a sniveling chihuahua.

Another squeeze on your cock and the coil snaps without warning, leaving you gasping and moaning into Leon’s mouth while cum spurts out your slit in ropes, each one landing on your tummy.

Leon groans, his lips pressing against yours hard enough to bruise, his hips stuttering against your leg. He humps the last of his own orgasm into you, shuddering as cum seeps through his underwear and onto your skin, the fluid sticky and warm.

Parting from the kiss, you mewl, eyes glazed over with ecstasy and body trembling with delight. For once, the silence with another person is enjoyable, and you couldn’t care less about anything else that has happened today. At least, not at the moment.

You dread the moment you’ll have to talk about what you just did, but right now you’re content. Glancing over at Leon, you worry a little, hoping he didn’t just wanna pump one and dump you to the side. You expected it, but that didn’t particularly mean you wanted it to happen.

He turns his head to look at you, and you frown a little, anxious as to what the expression on his face could mean. He looks like he doesn’t like anything all the time, and it’s stressful.

The look in his eyes is complicated, but you don’t have time to contemplate it. He ducks his head and steals another kiss from you, nipping your bottom lip lightly. You could jump for joy.

“Remember,” He mumbles against your lips, “you still owe me.”

You blink. You would’ve thought that this was what Leon wanted to get from you, but maybe you were wrong. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“I thought this was?…” You ask confusedly, trailing off.

“Nah,” Leon hums. “this was…” he thinks for a moment, “a tester. Y’know, like tryouts.”

“For what?” You squint, licking your lips and tasting the slight metallic tang from the nip.

Leon shrugs. He’s unsure of what he really wants here— with you, that is. He doesn’t want to think about it, not when all he wants to do is rest in post-orgasmic haze.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asks instead, eyes examining your face, trying to get a read of your expression.

You think for a moment, before mirroring his shrug.

“No, not really.”

[redr1vers]

walter doesn’t become a worse man over the course of brba. he just gets better at lying to himself about it. he always has that streak of cruelty in him - that part of him that keeps itself afloat by putting others down. we see it in season one in how he blackmails and verbally abuses jesse, how he treats that failing student, when he explodes the rich man’s car, when he beats up walt jr’s bullies. some of these things may have been justified - but through all of them we see walt being driven, energized, by those rushes of power, of cruelty. they may be justified, but that’s not why he did it. that’s just why he tells himself he did it, once it’s done. he was always driven by that rush of power, of cruelty, since day one.

and as time goes on we see how he gets better at these little excuses. he indulges himself more and more, bit by bit. he excuses his behavior towards his wife, his son, to jesse, to hank. walt uses jesse as a kind of life-raft, to keep his excuses and his yearning for power afloat. jesse is malleable, manipulatable, controllable. as the show’s body count rises walt tells jesse it’s alright, tells jesse it was all necessary, that they did what they had to do. he berates jesse to boost his own ego, uses jesse to keep himself in control, keeps jesse in an agonizing subordinate position all through the show, so he always has someone to keep him on top. to give him the power, the ego, the reassurance, the forgiveness that he needs. he isolates jesse, guilts jesse, shames jesse, and then when jesse breaks and does what walt wants - such as killing gale - he showers jesse with assurances, reminders that it’s okay. they did what they had to. there was no other choice.

and even as jesse forgives walt, over and over, buying walt’s excuses and manipulation, jesse can’t quite forgive himself. part of him understands it’s all bullshit. we see jesse try to fight it, without realizing who he’s fighting - screaming at the narcotics anonymous meeting, asking why? why does he, who killed a man, get to move on, say it means nothing, claim it was justified? by season 4, he’s accepted that it’s bullshit. he knows he’s a bad guy. he doesn’t do what walt does - chase himself in circles excusing, explaining, what he’s done. and so the rift between them - despite walt’s best efforts - starts to grow.

by the end of the show, walt doesn’t even need an excuse: walt is the excuse. he believes he’s the exception; the one who’s so smart, so exceptional, so special that whatever it takes to get his way is simply necessary. walter and heisenberg aren’t separate people, not really - it was all walter, right from the start - but walter likes to believe that they are; because heisenberg is special. heisenberg deserves better, so he should get better, no matter whose lives are at stake. it’s the classic case of a white man born and bred to believe he’s above all consequences.

so “heisenberg” isn’t a different person, not really. walt doesn’t turn into someone different over the course of the show. he is the same man, from the start to the end - an angry, bitter old man with an extraordinary capacity for cruelty.

[emry-stars-art]

Omg PLEASE tell us more about the hurt/ comfort after Neil gets back from evermore after being kidnapped

Oh you know the fun parts to brainstorm 👀👀 First I needed to draw some of the comfort so here’s a sketch:

Anyway this is aftg we’re talking about, specifically Riko and Nathan, so once again; it’s rather vague but take care reading on (or skip to the next bolded sentence for the comfort 💕)

I honestly still don’t have all the specifics on what might happen at Evermore! One option is just to make it very similar to Neil’s canon Christmas break, because the angles are similar: in canon, they want Neil quiet and obedient to play exy and not act out against his treatment, and in this au the only difference is instead of exy it’s… violence, essentially. But let’s be honest. This is a royal au, we have to add some things, right

So the main tenant is “they want Abram to do what he’s told without argument”. In my mind that includes being forced to watch every bit of Nathan’s work and then having to do it himself. Of course, Abram is still stubborn and still hates doing it more than he hates anything else, so it takes a long time for him to hurt or torture or kill anyone the first time he’s asked. Usually there is heavy coercion and harm before he touches anyone.

But the point isn’t to get Abram used to doing it, because he’s already as used to it as he will ever be. The Moriyamas’ focus is more on breaking down the stubborn streak and strong moral compass. The best way to do that, they figure, is to take away his personhood altogether. So Abram is never referred to as a person, and instead they more or less treat him like some inanimate weapon or like a dog. A very volatile, vicious dog. Kennels and muzzles and commands and all. Some starvation and sleep deprivation when they decide it’s “necessary”. Even long into his recovery Abram can’t hear a word like heel or sit without his muscles twitching to do so.

So it’s a mix of the dehumanization and punishment. Riko has almost free reign once again, though Tetsuji will step in at times when he deems it’s too much. (Though I don’t think he considered waterboarding/near drowning every time Abram is made to bathe or shower “too much”.) Near the end of Abram’s time, a week or so before he’s either rescued, somehow returned, or escapes, Tetsuji revokes Riko’s privileges altogether when Riko causes some heavy head injuries that concuss Abram and make him lose his sight for a while. It’s not permanent, but it’s long enough term that when he gets back to Palmetto, Abram takes a long time away from most people to recover. He doesn’t trust himself not to act before he can think when he can’t see his surroundings.

Back at Palmetto, it might take most of them a while to realize how bad it was. Day is most familiar with how Evermore works, but he was still high up in the chain of command and respect, so he wasn’t necessarily familiar with the underworkings like that. Abram was raised in the environment, he is horrifically good at more or less acting normal. And when he’s fully awake and conscious, he’s very good at keeping things separate - people can still touch him with enough warning, he still holds conversation when he has to. The worst things come to light slowly - the first time he wakes up in a flashback Abram and Day immediately decide it’s best if he doesn’t stay around Andrew. So Andrew kind of has to watch from the outside and it kills him. He watches when Abram refuses to bathe, but if he doesn’t get clean the wounds will get badly infected, so Day kind of has to make him. But Andrew can’t help - because as Day expects, Abram panics and Day ends up with several bruised ribs and nearly broken fingers. Abram won’t wear high collared or tight shirts any more, and one time in helping the Queen care for the castle’s hounds Abram has a panic attack when he’s accidentally left alone for too long. There are little punctures over his cheeks and nose in a circle across his face. He has a hard time eating around others. Abram never tells them what happened to him, but Andrew and Day slowly figure it out anyway.

As they figure it out, everyone does their best to adapt. While Abram’s still recovering his sight, Day announces himself and most of his movements. He talks all the way through finally washing and detangling Abram’s hair (even after the long time he spends on it, they have to cut out the worst mats) when Abram tells him it helps to hear a friendly voice in a language that isn’t the Moriyamas’. Day talks more often and more softly than he probably ever has in his life, because he’s made himself Abram’s main caretaker. Not to say he doesn’t make honest mistakes, because they all do, but he’s quick to change his behavior.

Then, when Abram’s almost fully recovered his sight, Day lets him stay with Andrew once more. Now it’s not as much Abram watching out for the prince - he will do his job well enough, but sometimes he still has to step back and away because of course he does. And Andrew’s approach is very different than Day’s. It isn’t as much his voice as it is his presence, or when he uses his calm but direct authority to tell Abram to go to sleep, I’m going to be right here. After Abram’s panic attack in the kennels, Andrew discovers that if there’s nothing around to pull Abram into a panic attack he won’t generally fall into one again after leaving the stressor, and Abram finds great comfort in some grounding hold on some part of him. Usually the back of his neck or his hands. He won’t let Andrew hold a knee or leg when they’re sat together, but he will put his weight against Andrew’s shoulder for balance. Little things that Andrew figures out by asking or trial and error. When Abram slips, accidentally refers to himself as “it” or “thing” - words he’d never use normally and sometimes even flinches from - Andrew learns to stay within arms reach, sometimes talking through his and Abram’s schedule. If it’s bad enough Abram might play with Andrew’s fingers and hands while he does, like he’s trying to make sure he can still touch someone without hurting them. This afternoon we discuss plans for the upcoming festival with Day, Captain Wymack, Abigail, and Aaron and Katelyn, and after we’ll eat. Join me in the garden? Always official, non-confrontational events. Slowly Andrew gets Abram readjusted to eating at a table and speaking without seeking permission first.

But again. There’s a lot of possibilities and things are always subject to change or be added, so this is kind of my jumping off point! (And is half of this summarized from things I’ve written? Yes. But I want to have something else polished and posted first so 👀 I hope to circle back to this soon) Thank you for the ask!! 🥰

[skylarstarlight]

Okay okay, I got some more ideas.

And yes, they revolve around Jouno and his fighting style.

I personally believe because of his fighting style, in his mafia, Jouno was literally nicknamed as "The Black Widow" since physical enhancements did barely anything so he resorts to his old mafia fighting style — full, relentless body attacks.

And yes, Tecchou as been on the receiving end of Jouno doing the famous Black Widow spin move and as ended on the floor more times than not.

And you ever realize that in the Hunting Dogs, when they have gone off track or done something that affects the Hunting Dogs, weather that be betrayal or what not — their hats or caps or both are usually off?

And Jouno’s hat was off because he betrayed Fukuchi when he declined the offer but his cape stayed on since he still clings to the idea of the Hunting Dogs, or some sort of redemption.

Imagine the time that changes.

Imagine he’s well into the Hunting Dogs and all three of them but him get kidnapped on an account with some old bad blood from a rival group. Like it’s the moment when that switch happens, when he puts aside Jouno. His sadistic habits, his temper, his teasing, everything. And simply lets Black Widow take control.

Like he ditches his cape AND his hat and ends up clearing the entire building in seconds. There’s also a huge maybe that Jouno is probably dissociating and not really in his head. Like Jouno isn’t even there, it’s just Black Widow. A cold, unfeeling, cruel and brutal, apathetic, strong and mission oriented weapon that is willing to accomplish what he needs too by any means necessary.

And when he finds the captor, he literally takes this guy down with ease WITHOUT his ability and threatens to kill his if he doesn’t hand over the keys to the Hunting Dog’s restraints which also restrain their abilities.

And imagine how concerned Tecchou is. Like Jouno’s voice isn’t as cheery and cold like it usually is — it’s practically dead.

And then after they go back to base, Jouno just casually takes off auto pilot and goes back to normal and tries to avoid the conversation about what happened and says he just “got into a mood” and he’s fine now.

Like he avoids that topic like the plague but nobody is forgetting the amount of dead bodies they had to step over and how silent Jouno was the entire time.

OOMF right in the heart

YES. I am a FIRM believer in something similar to this. Idk the first thing about Black Widow, but I have always had the headcanon that Jouno has moments of dissociation where he's just downright cruel like back in his crime days

Have you noticed how Jouno in general isn't really physically violent towards other people? (Like he does threaten them with words a lot, ofc, "I wish you'd die" and all that, but in general it's the other Hunting Dogs that are the violent ones) The only time's he's actually shown doing physical harm is I think kicking Tecchou in the back of the head in the pushup scene, and then the entire unit is there watching (if I'm forgetting something lmk, not counting that kick in the face in the flashback with the old lady).

What if that's just him not wanting to get too far into the mindset of hurting people? Like when he's interrogating people he'd lock the door so others won't get caught in the crossfire but he's cruel and he hates himself for it sometimes

Because he's shown to have compassion too, this would really clash with him. He only really goes to the point of violence when there's people around that he knows could handle it (aka other Hunting Dogs) or people that actually would deserve the worst in his eyes

Idk just some thoughts I've never really articulated it so apologies if it's kinda hard to understand!!!

[henrywinterswife]

Why Henry Winter (TSH) Isn’t The Worst Person - Analysis

Can we just take a moment to justify Henry’s actions even just a little? Yes, Henry was already disassociated from society and very much isolated even before he came to Hampden (car accident, according to Bunny?) and was of course uptight even as a freshman. But if it were not for Julian’s influence, Henry would’ve turned out alright. Julian pressed upon Henry that elitist notion far more than he himself originally had, he romanticized the idea of Dionysian madness, feeding into their brains how “wonderful” it would be to lose one’s self for a time. Julian knew exactly what he was doing by saying this. This of course perked Henry’s interests (to lose one’s self) because he always felt trapped in his mind, which he later confessed to Richard. And Julian knew this, and knew what would come of his lesson, as he told Richard in Chapter 1 that he ALWAYS knew what his students would do (huge foreshadowing). He knew the kind of person Henry was, knew how much Henry worshipped Julian, and how much he soaked in each and every word. Julian knew the bacchanal would lead to disaster and he didn’t stop any of it, while even encouraging it too by saying “Do what is only necessary.” to Henry. Yes Henry was bad, but he became worse because of Julian and Julian knew that. The bacchanal soon led to the murder of Bunny, and Julian there, too, knew the gang was involved in his death. Henry by then was guilty minded, but tried pushing it aside. When Julian couldn’t pretend obliviousness any longer after he saw the letterhead, he fled the scene, afraid of being tied to all the mess. This broke Henry. Henry, I feel, killed himself because he saw how all the control he once had as the leader of the group, vanished, and how his “god” (Julian) was now gone, and that he could no longer be “up in the clouds with Plato” (Bunny, Chapter 1) and would be forced to live in the real world, which he felt isolated from. Taking his own life meant seizing control once again, and living out a Greek tragedy story, which he was so obsessed with. Julian Morrow is the monster, not Henry Winter.

[oscconfessions]

[sent at 18:07 8/18/24 (PDT, M/D/Y)] WARNINGS: what some might consider ‘proshipping’, aka bad relationships that should never happen in real life and far, far, far too many words about them

btw i’m sending this here cause most people that follow me don’t like ONE so this way people who like it are more likely to see it and people who don’t might make even more vagueposts about me yippee kicks my feet :)

not enough lairy asks on here. i think they should be worse :) the kidnapper x victim dynamic is Interesting it adds an entire new level of emotional turmoil. it sucks for liam so so bad. So Bad. both ways- if it’s unrequited and if it isn’t. airy has a certain obliviousness about him that’s interesting. it definitely doesn’t absolve him of a single thing but it’s interesting. liam hesitating to actually kill airy, he wants airy alive, despite everything. characters growing to care for each other despite the baggage between them……

hm. it’s just! airy isn’t malevolent, and despite all the bad he did he Has an Excuse. an /excuse/. he needs help, definitely. needs to escape the plane, needs human connection.

airy could definitely develop a crush on the first person he actually gets to know, while fucking stuck there. he’d probably act slightly creepy about it. clinging onto liam worried he’ll leave, watching him as he sleeps, watching him as he does literally everything, following him like a lost duckling. he just likes to watch. he just likes being around liam. airy has shown a lack of knowledge for the concept of consent that could be very very bad. i’m not going to get into that lest i be ipbanned - there are some things about it i don’t want to talk about anyway - but it’s there, he doesn’t understand why he should care for others’ wants, he thinks that if it’s a “good” thing then he’s fine. either he justifies the kidnapping in his head or doesn’t realize it’s a kidnapping at all or doesn’t remember kidnapping people is bad actually. he thought they would like it. he thought he was doing something good. he just disconnects from the possibility it could ever be bad ever because - wasn’t it good? come on? maybe even liam’s almost murder slash murder attempt doesn’t provide the necessary reality check which is. bad.

the idea liam likes airy despite it all…. it’s interesting to me…. because of course feelings don’t have to be logical, of course you can be endeared to someone despite their flaws, despite what they did. yes i understand he was kidnapped. these things can still apply! and it would suck so bad for him because of course liam is aware of what airy did, not only to himself but to his friends as well. to bryce, to scenty. he doesn’t /want/ to be attracted to airy. he knows it’s horrible and knows bryce might hate him for it, he probably hates himself for it too! i imagine he’d toss and turn about it, thinking, what if i don’t actually believe airy’s bad, what if, in my heart of hearts, i believe it was okay. what if i’m too sympathetic to him. what if i don’t give him what he deserves. he would get sharp or avoidant with airy or both. airy is like a danger. he’s worried he can’t control himself properly when it comes to airy. he’s worried he’s like a ticking time bomb. he’s worried he’s a kidnapper-sympathizer. he’s worried this makes him a fundamentally horrible person. he’s worried that airy should be dead and he likes him anyway.

i imagine some sort of airy doesn’t die au where they’re forced to cohabitate. liam has to get used to airy and the way he stares into distances. airy takes this opportunity, unfortunately. he’s probably very touchy. if liam won’t touch him, he’ll touch liam- he /needs/ it like he needs water or food, after all this time without anything. he needs to hear liam’s voice. he wouldn’t let liam get avoidant. and even if liam hates him that doesn’t matter to him. liam, of course, simply has to Deal. unless he starts using that desperation to manipulate airy which- i can see it. offering himself up in exchange for airy being nicer to the contestants that are still down there that he’s still covertly figuring out how to escape. like, ‘if youre nicer to them i will let you hold me’, just to disambiguate so you fucks don’t immediately think of the worst everr…. liam learning how to deal with airy, learning to manipulate him. maybe gets an unfortunate enjoyment in it that he would never confess. i like my toxic ships two sided. regardless they just get used to each other in general, how to interact, airy probably gets less weird, comes alive. stops walking around like a ghost, even if he may be.

liam likes seeing airy smile more and act like he’s real regardless of romantic inclinations, and hates himself for that. starts going out of his way to make airy smile in an act he would never admit to himself, never put into words. airy just needs liam’s arm around his shoulder to steady him. he just needs to sit next to airy at the computer so airy doesn’t commit atrocities, that’s all. he asks to help with the reeds to get stronger and beat airy with the axe, in the future, definitely. it’s all completely fine and normal. maybe airy notices and maybe airy tells him he’s glad liam doesn’t hate him anymore, and liam sits there, feeling so horrible about himself he’s nauseous. sits by the river and thinks (i like to think that before liam would take airy out to sit by the river and watch the sun rise and now this feels like a mockery, and now he feels lonely, no other word for it). romantic inclinations have compromised him after all. he shouldn’t be the one here.

the thing is, regardless of how liam feels about airy he’s still unfortunately forced to hang around him, even if just so he doesn’t kill people. so even if liam hates him or loves him or hates him and also loves him(- which he does, at times) he still has to watch him. eventually he works through his feelings, simply because he must.

anyway airy is completely content with liam’s existence. if liam ever gets closer he savors it. he falls for liam’s manipulation- if it exists- so easily, never questions any of it. he’s happier. he’s happier than he’s ever been in years. :(

i like to think, through slow erosion, liam gets through to airy. maybe at first it’s just ‘this would make me happy’. or just ‘if you do this i will do that’. i like to think eventually airy catches onto the idea of morals. it has to sink in. eventually it does. eventually airy realizes what he’s done. eventually he asks liam if he should let go of the contestants, and then asks liam what they should do now.

liam’s succeeded and it’s just through. being there for airy.

they probably go to san francisco and figure out how to live together and then bryce gets in touch with liam and liam accidentally slips airy lives with him now and bryce asks him if he’s a kidnapper fucker as a joke and then liam smashes his phone. you know, normal things

oh right i accidentally made them good. fuck. anyway imagine liam under the duress of airy being a kidnapper, having to deal with his attraction. there’s something about liam having to deal with his own attraction too. maybe liam starts hurting airy as a punishment for what he’s done. maybe he never stops. maybe he enjoys it. maybe he manipulates airy and finds a way past his guard to help the contestants without his knowledge and likes it, and likes how airy will let him do almost anything.

and you KNOW, you KNOW if liam hurt airy airy would soak it up, because any touch is better than nothing. at least liam wants him. if this is the only touch he will impart, airy will take what he can get. he needs the attention. he likes the way liam smiles when he’s hurt.

airy just wants people to be happy even if it’s the worst ever……

also just. airy hurting liam and liam hurting airy in an infinite cycle. airy keeps encouraging what liam does to him. and maybe liam wouldn’t have done it in any other circumstance but that’s then and this is now- and he can’t justify it further except airy deserves this, right? it’s not about whether airy likes it. (it’s not about that he likes it. it’s not about how whenever liam starts airy asks for it and he asks for it in such a way that liam can’t help but-)

airy encouraging liam’s hatred.

the way airy is in general it’d suck for liam so bad……

anyway airy eroding liam so that they’re perfect for each other (derogatory)

.

[markerofthemidnight]

Thinking of writing a Rain Code Peggy Sue/Swap AU. As in, at the end of the final Labyrinth, something happens that resets the timeline to the beginning of Chapter 0 as well as swaps everyone’s roles, and Yuma and Shinigami are the only ones who remember the original timeline.

A few fun ideas for this:

Shinigami

“Human” name is Shini Requiem (as borrowed from another trainee detective that’s never mentioned in the true story, so the real Yuma never appears here)

The other detectives just assume the reason why she’s… like that is because the supposed amnesia just made her weird

Still doesn’t stop her from being fairly competent at times, though, so they don’t really complain (if only they knew 60% of her competence is just advice given to her by a reluctant death god…)

REALLY having a bad time figuring out how to do human things like eating, and sleeping, and breathing

As a result has absolutely no internal clock, either staying awake when she wants to fall asleep or falling asleep when she needs to stay awake

She also has to do things like breathe and blink manually until her subconscious figures out it has to do those things itself, which takes about like a day

She’s an absolute MASTER in Mystery Labyrinths, though, for understandable reasons

(which is even more impressive given the fact that personality swapping means that the mysteries are fairly different now, and even if they weren’t, it’s not like she can remember all the details of all the cases)

Is still brooding over the fact that her tits mysteriously disappeared when she became a human: combine that with the height difference, and she basically looks like an overly sassy little girl

(“NOW I’M THE FLAT-CHESTED UGGO! WHYYYYYYY?!”)

Has no problem walking but can’t really run since she’s used to just floating

Actually isn’t as mean to other people as she is in the main game

(which is absolutely NOT because her usual personality is just a defense mechanism since anyone in their right mind would be terrified of a goddess of death, and even her masters would probably despise her because no god should be that incompetent: so if they’re going to hate her, it should at least be because of something she can control, right?)

Yuma

Ghost form just looks like Shinigami’s but slimmer, blue, and with curved horns

Human form is a fancier version of his typical outfit except a foot or so taller with a crown, the aforementioned horns, and two demonic wings that he still hasn’t figured out how to retract into his body like Shinigami does for hers

As a result, whenever he transforms, the sequence consists of him flailing about trying to balance himself with the gigantic flapping monstrosities now on his back as his clothing just magically materialises onto him

“Arise, Mystery LabyriiiIIIIIIIIINNNTH-“

His confidence pretty much took a terminal nosedive as soon as the last Labyrinth made it finally start to get better

Is especially not doing very well coping with the mental changes that come with being a death god, which starts out as just being attracted to the scent of blood, but gets… worse, over time.

”Shini, you have to hurry! If you don’t, Zange will boom-kill… I did not just say that.”

(note: still called her Shinigami at first but transitioned over to Shini rather quickly. He is still Iiving in denial of the fact that it may subconsciously be a pet name)

His version of Shinigami’s scythe is his blade, and naturally its new counterpart is the Solution Scythe

(summoning animation now consists of them doing a short little waltz before Shinigami rips off one of his wings, which turns into the scythe, and a new wing grows back painlessly)

Really doesn’t want to stab Shinigami in the back all the time even though it’s necessary to proceed in the Labyrinths: between this, Crime Scene Recreation, GOD Shinigami, and all the other situations that require him to be forceful in any sense, he makes a terrible guide

[bleue-flora]

Hello, I come to you with a silly prompt!

In what way do you think Dream is disabled/affected post-prison and if he does, what do you think he does to hide it?

So I’ve loved all of the different answers to this, lots of fun. Sorry to be late in the game. Like usual I’m probably gonna make this more complicated than it needs to be. No surprise there though lol XD. But ya know you asked for my thoughts so here are my thoughts, as messy as they are.

See this is hard for me because there is a divide between what we know for sure is canon, what we can speculate in general and what is more fun to imagine. As well as, the difference between Minecraft and our physical world. Because like obviously no one can actually survive living that close to lava, so we have to decide which elements would match our world consequences and which wouldn’t.

Because it’s Minecraft and things aren’t necessary like the real world, I play looser with some of the effects. So things like for example messed up vision from the lava don’t apply. I mean everyone spends times in mines, the nether, even has lava in their house so it’s not something I personally include. The same with things like seizures and such.

When it comes to canon, obviously we know potions exist in this world, but the thing is there is never confirmation of them being used in the prison. They don’t appear in Quackity’s or Sam’s inventory (besides fire res) when they visit and during the visits we get to see, Dream is munching on potatoes to heal. So does that mean he never gets potions since basic food can work to heal in Minecraft or does he get some only with more severe and dangerous injuries or something. Or would he have sustained less serious injuries because the potatoes can only heal so much. Then again canonically Quackity is swinging a diamond sword and a netherite axe around, which aren’t exactly gonna do small damage.

And the thing with scars is that the only scars we know of are from canonical deaths, meaning Dream would probably have some from the other time he went to limbo (or multiple if went multiple times), and Tommy killing him (quite a few actually given how many arrows he took and stuff in staged finale) but there’s not necessarily confirmation of scars other than that, and Quackity can’t exactly take credit for those.

There’s also the question of whether he was dying and respawning as non canon deaths, especially because again Quackity is using some high damage weapons. Though I tend to lean away from believing that since that isn’t shown except with Sam accidentally killing Dream after Techno escapes.

I also don’t personally think he suffered anything super noticeable because the guards in prison as well as Ghostbur and Tommy and even Techno, don’t mention the torture. Ghostbur and Tommy don’t notice anything, Techno has to be told, and the guards like Badboyhalo even after hearing screaming still seems almost unsure of himself. Plus, Antfrost talks about visiting Dream and yet had no clue about the torture until Bad brings it up. So in my mind he doesn’t have anything too mutilated or missing body part wise, because that’d be kinda obvious. This includes eyes and also even missing fingers (though if he is missing one let’s just all agree it’d be his left hand ring finger because of Quackity’s breakup with his fiancés… ;]). (Though if we decide they were using potions then it’s interesting to play around with the idea of Quackity doing something like cutting off his arm and Sam having to fix that like I did in my fanfiction.)

So in my mind, no major cosmetic things, besides being smaller due to poor diet and starvation. Though again, in my mind it’s not quite the same as real world so I don’t like to image him as grotesquely skin and bones if that makes sense… (look he can be broken and still pretty ;D).

But despite what I said, I do like to imagine he has scars and I think potions may not have been a staple but probably did happen if Quackity ever went too far. Maybe early on before Quackity mastered his craft a bit more or later when he became more and more enraged and extreme in his desperation to break Dream. Either way, I think it was a rare occasion type deal. And because of that, in my mind he does actually have scars because the potatoes provide poor healing. So other people dying by falling in a hole or fight in a war don’t really have scars from that duo to respawn and potions or golden apples, while Dream deprived of that would have more lasting effects (because as someone with many scars I like to imagine he has some as a testimony to what he went through). This also means that some of his broken bones perhaps didn’t heal properly causing some pain or even having things not quite right. So fingers bent wrong if you really studied them or knees misaligned or whatever. So some sensation of pain at all times is pretty guaranteed. Though even without injuries healed wrong he’d still have chronic pain because scar tissue is very sensitive and messes up the nerves so it freaking hurts, it hurts to move, it hurts to touch, it hurts to use… etc.

One of the things he’d do would obviously be to the cover the scars to hide them from view, because embarrassment, shame, looking weak… etc but he’d definitely do it in really soft and not super tight fitting clothes because again the skin is sensitive.

I sometimes like to imagine that injuries that are obvious and badly healed enough he would like break them and reheal them, maybe even with Punz’s help. In general, though broken bones, concussions and stuff heal on their own given time so even if not the best, things heal eventually and Dream is up and about swinging an axe so it ain’t like he’s too debilitated. Still, moving and stuff would be painful and he’s definitely not in shape like he was so it makes sense why he uses so many pearls all the time and why Tubbo would say to Punz in the finale about killing him, “He was sluggish—he was slow—he was out of practice we took him by surprise.”

Though, I do think sluggish and slow could also be a reference to his mental ability as well, implying he isn’t as quick witted or as good at reacting, something that if you watch that finale fight does align. His counter measures aren’t super fast especially compared to how adaptable and swiftly clever he was before.

Obviously, he likely has Depression, PTSD, and an Anxiety disorder, as a result. Anxiety is the one we seen him at least try to mitigate by finding the most secure place to sleep so he can feel less stressed out, not going out and provoking people to avoid being attacked, kinda blocking out the world and stuff, not great for his depression though nor his PTSD…

I also imagine he’d be the type of person to think he could get over fears and trauma by exposure. Like sleeping in the cell with the lava down to remind himself he doesn’t need to be afraid of it… things like that perhaps. With limited success.

I imagine he has a lot of nightmares so he mitigates this by not sleeping as much as possible. Old habits die hard I guess…

Based off of Bad talking to Antfrost after the prison break about how he thinks someone was coming in and torturing Dream: “Anytime I would go and visit Dream he would be all shaky and he wouldn’t wanna talk.” I’d say Dream does shake, sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of weakness, sometimes out of stress, and sometimes because his body doesn’t work as it should. He mitigates this by trying to build up his strength and change strategies in battle if it ever gets debilitating, like switching to food, pearls, potions or TNT. He does a lot of pearling and running, and he never takes off his armor in fear of what might be around the corner.

Despite living in isolation for so long, he’s not overly social like he used to be. He goes days, weeks even without really talking to anyone between spurts of being overly talkative and needing interaction.

When talking to people, perhaps he hides his hands behind his back when they shake, he wears his mask to hide anything he might feel - fear, panic, sorrow, they can’t really see the tears building in his eyes or falling down his face that way. They can’t even really tell he’s hyperventilating unless they are paying attention.

He likes to do a lot of pushing down his feelings, which worked in the prison, it’s a good way to survive but it’s no way to heal. Maybe he schedules his meltdowns or panic to a later time - He’ll get upset about the fight with Quackity at home, he can’t breakdown in the streets now.

Maybe he spends days feeling numb, not leaving his bed, feeling like there’s no point. It’s better that way, if he doesn’t do anywhere he’s safe. If Punz asks he’ll lie, and Punz won’t believe him but he won’t push either………….

“Purpled, do you know what that does to a man do you know the limits that people have it—it goes beyond those limits its not okay.”

[thebibutterflyao3]

Let’s talk Black Brothers angst and the best friend’s brother trope, especially surrounding a Jegulus relationship. As the oldest sibling by two years, I would have been horrified if my best friend dated my little brother in high school or college.

Not because my brother was a bad person, or because my friends were. It simply felt like an invasion of my personal space. Your friends are often an escape from family, especially if you have a toxic parent, or parents. I can completely understand Sirius seeing Jegulus as a betrayal of trust by James and/or an invasion of his personal space by Regulus.

Some of that emotional response may come from fear of losing one or the other if the relationship failed, distrust of his brother if he’s still under their parents’ influence, or from physical disgust at the thought of the relationship itself. Either way, Sirius has a plethora of reasons to object to it outside of being selfish and wanting one, or both, all to himself. However, even if he is being selfish, so what? No character is without flaws and if Sirius’s flaw in a fic is that he’s selfish with his friends, let him.

Some fans act like Sirius Black isn’t an impulsive, dramatic bitch in the HP universe. This man tried to kill an enemy using his werewolf best friend as a weapon, stalked his own godson in a menacing dog form multiple times in and out of the wizarding world, immediately went on a revenge spree when James and Lily were killed, and laughed hysterically when he was arrested afterwards. The man who broke into both Hogwarts and a dorm full of sleeping children to try to murder a rat with a KNIFE, used the knife on the portrait when she wouldn’t let him in, kidnapped Ron to get to his pet, ran into dangerous situations without a second thought, gave a full on villain’s rant then taunted Remus and Snape in the shrieking shack, and loudly argued with anyone who disagreed with him…all while WANDLESS.

That man isn’t one to sit back and see what happens, or go along with it if he disagrees. Sirius Black will make it his life’s mission to annoy the piss out of James AND Regulus while seeing the entire thing as an attack on him personally. No Voldemort or Death Eater bs necessary.

If you would rather write a fic that shows Sirius being sweet and accepting of Jegulus, please do! I love reading fluffy versions of them getting along. Just keep in mind that when some of us write him as an impulsive, dramatic bitch, we are using his canon characterisation. Also, the sibling dynamic between the brothers will range greatly based on the back story the author gives them and how they are influenced by their own experience as a sibling (or not).

Personally, I’ve explored their relationship from three angles in my fics. Antagonistic, supportive, and reluctantly ambivalent. All three were a fascinating dive into sibling relationships. I encourage you to explore their dynamics, don’t box yourself into one head-canon! You don’t have to agree with him to understand or relate to Sirius’s perspective, even if he’s over the top.

As a bonus if you read all that: my brother actually ended up marrying one of my friends and they are very happy together. It was super weird for while, but having one of my friends as a sister-in-law is honestly awesome. I cheered them on when it was clear they were good for each other.

[yallaya-blog]

I was thinking about Terra’s character throughout the series. It’s understandable why she would be against war and killing since she is a child of war. She has seen the pain and trauma it can cause to people. As traumatic as the event was for her it pushed her to find alternative ways to solve an issue without immediately resorting to killing. She seen her dad kill before but she hasn’t fault him for it since she knows it was in self defense and to protect his family. The Coalition War was different since the people Mark was fighting against are their friends/allies. I don’t think that she necessarily agrees with what the Coalition was doing but she is against using war to resolve an issue since she knows firsthand how damaging war can be especially to bystanders. While her dad didn’t start the war he could have not went through with it or fought for a more peaceful solution sooner. This might be why she distant herself from her family since she feared what her dad was doing made him no better than Thragg.

I think the main reason why she separated herself from her father was, of course, because of the war, but also because of the fact that the Conservation Order (the regime Terra works in) wanted to break away from the Viltrum Empire BECAUSE of Marks decision to initiate war. However again this war is not a fault of the VE, it was initiated by VE’s emperor because the Coalition Of Planets was draining resources from poorer worlds and then displacing the people of those worlds in densely populated planets (like modern day Talescria) in order for COP to stay relevant, so therefore COP was at fault. The Conservation Order formerly affiliated itself with the Viltrum Empire because of its key interests: maintaining peace, solving conflict and improving peoples lives. I think CO’s disconnect from VE was not because of the soul PURPOSE of the war but because of war IN GENERAL and it’s damaging consequences (division, death, innocent civilians often paying the price, etc) which goes against what CO and Terra personally stand for. Terra is very passionate about helping people (example of this was when Mark was about to give up on an entire race of people because of their crime rate, but Terra saw that the only reason why these crimes were committed was because those people were hungry, were scared, and were dying because they lacked the resources they needed in order to thrive, and was able to convince Mark to spare them from any irrational punishment) and, like her father, can be very naive at times and because she can often be blindsighted by emotion she doesnt always properly defend her arguments for doing certain things. So generally speaking, Terra supports CO breaking away from VE because of the damage war does but she DOESNT condone any of what COP has done because her job is literally to prevent everything COP was doing. Even Mark himself admits that “this could have been so much easier if you had just TALKED to me” which again supports the idea that war isn’t a necessary solution to all problems. ALSO I DONT THINK SHE THINKS HER FATHER IS AS BAD AS THRAGG BC OF THIS WAR ‼️ Thraggs means of war was driven by viltrumite conquest and superiority over other beings (evil), Marks means of war was driven by abolishing an organization that was exploiting weak planets and damaging populations of people in order to stay afloat (good). Again yes Terra does fight to solve conflicts (when her ‘master’ [either her mentor Kregg or emperor and father Mark] had her battle that unnamed dude in order to bring peace between their people) but she by all means NEVER wants to resort to war because of the damage it did to her family and how it tears apart other families too. So basically is she defending the Coalition Of Plantes? Absolutely not. Its her duty to prevent what COP did from happening. Does she think this conflict could have been settled more peacefully without war? Yes. Goodness i love the extensiveness of her character sm I LOVE YOU TERRA shes just an alien girl in a drama-n-violence riddled universe