#if they have any humanity left at this point

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 15.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of mate marks, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: I know, I know... It's been wayyyy too long. What can I say? Live happened. Also, I was super unmotivated to write since I didn't know where this story was going. But... I had some intense thoughts about it. So... voilá!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Carefully, y/n traces the soft pink skin on her neck. She wishes she had a mirror and looks at the scar that Katsuki left behind. She presses her lips together. Right now, she's sitting in the tub washing off the grime and sickness of the past week. Ever since waking up, Katsuki has been uncharacteristically attentive and careful around y/n.

Part of y/n still wants to be angry with Katsuki but she finds it hard to be harsh towards him when he lingers around her like a shy dog who got punished by its owner. She notices how he tries to keep his hands on himself. Only late at night can she feel him touching her gently when he thinks she's already deep asleep.

There's a rustle from the curtain that marks the doorway back into the tent. Katsuki enters the bath hut without announcing himself. Quickly, y/n tries to cover up herself with her arms.

“Nothin' I haven't seen yet, doll.”, Katsuki comments dryly.

It sours his mood that y/n is clearly uncomfortable with him seeing her naked. He thought that after the marking, she'd feel more relaxed and secure around him, but clearly, that's not the case. Instead of strengthening their relationship, the marking pushed them back. Y/n doesn't seem to trust him like before.

He strides over to the tub and holds out some fresh linen for y/n. Hesitantly, y/n takes the cloth and gestures for Katsuki to turn around.

Katsuki turns around in defeat. He tries to suppress the feeling of annoyance rising within him. He promised to take care of y/n, but he also wants them to be happy, preferably together. This also means gaining her trust again and making her see that there's nothing for her to fear.

He hears how y/n gets up and dries herself with the linen. When he turns around, he helps y/n get out of the tub by extending an arm to her.

Y/n waddles into the tent leaving wet footprints behind her. Katsuki watches for a moment how the footprints start to fade before following her.

Maybe I should get her some slippers. The floor must be cold, Katsuki thinks.

When he enters the tent, he sees y/n wrapped in the linen on the bed brushing her hair with her fingers.

She might need a hairbrush for that long-ass hair, too, he ponders.

Y/n looks up and meets his eyes.

“Are there any fresh clothes?”, she asks him and points towards the pile of old clothes on the floor.

Katsuki understands and pulls out a dress he asked one of the older women to make for y/n. He picked the color red to match his eyes and Drami's scales.

Y/n pulls a face. The dress Katsuki is presenting to her is way too revealing. Not in a I-don't-like-showing-off-what-I've-got way but in a it's-way-too-cold-for-that way. Y/n shakes her head disapprovingly. She doesn't fail to notice the disappointed look at Katsuki's face.

“I can't wear that. I'm gonna be sick. Again. Do you want that?”, she tells Katsuki.

Y/n hops off the bed and strides towards Katsuki's closet and starts pulling out more suitable clothes. Katsuki watches her with a scowl. While he finds it endearing that y/n keeps wearing his clothes, he's a bit disappointed that she refuses the dress he had made for her.

When y/n has found everything she needs, she gestures for Katsuki to turn around again. Katsuki sighs and drops the dress on the bed. Adverting his gaze, he starts peeling an apple.

He hears the rustling of clothes. He looks up again when he feels a dip in the bed. Y/n sits there bundled up in way too many layers of his clothes. Katsuki thinks she looks like a drowned rat in it. None of her attractive features are visible in the baggy clothes she's wearing. For a moment, he wonders if that's how her people dress their women but then he remembers the dress she wore when they first met. Actually, where did that dress go? He should keep an eye out for it.

Katsuki sighs and hands y/n the peeled apple slices he cut for her. Y/n happily grabs the plate and starts munching on one of the apple slices.

“Katsuki, you in there?”, he hears Kirishima call from outside the tent.

“Yes, what do you want?”, he calls back grumpily.

After a short moment of silence, Kirishima calls: “Can I come in or are you indecent?”.

Katsuki can feel the blood rising to his face as he gets up from the bed.

“Shut up shitty-face! Come in and tell me what you want!”, he yells back.

Swiftly, Kirishima enters the tent. His eyes fall onto y/n who gives him a small wave.

“The missus is happy, it seems?”, he asks his friend and leader who only gives him a low grumble in return. Kirishima sighs and shakes his head.

“Look, I know you're the leader and everything but let me give you some advice: Spending time with the mate is all good and well. Y/n having a baby would sure be good news to the tribe, but...”, Kirishima starts and Katsuki throws a mean glace his way.

“... but you also should show your face around the settlement. People are starting to question where their boss is.”, Kirishima finishes.

“What are you telling me, Kirishima? That I'm neglecting my role as chief?”, Katsuki barks back.

Kirishima gives him a blank look.

“Yes, Katsuki, that's what I'm saying.”, he answers his friend. Katsuki growls at that and turns around to y/n who almost finished her apple.

“The men talk.”, Kirishima informs him.

“They always do. What do I care about?”, Katsuki answers.

“They talk about you. That you neglect your duties. That this foreign woman bewitched you. That the course we're steering isn't for the good of the people.”, Kirishima says carefully.

“What course?”, Katsuki snaps at him. Kirishima holds his sharp gaze.

“They say that you're in over your head. They think you're afraid and therefore you restrict the tribe's movements. Some even express that the plan of focusing on women probably won't work considering that your own mate almost passed.”, Kirishima explains matter-of-factly.

At that, Katsuki grinds his teeth. Kirishima is loyal, so he's sure the man is telling the truth. But who do these men think they are? They've never led a whole tribe, let alone trying to save one from extinction.

“Fine”, Katsuki says, “Then let's give them something real to talk about.”

~*~*~*~

Y/n watches Katsuki put on his armor. He's been on edge all morning and she doesn't dare to question him about what's going on. He won't understand anyway which will probably put him into an even more sore mood.

Suddenly, Mitsuki enters the tent. She's holding a bowl with a blue paste inside.

“You're a fool.”, she tells his son.

“What?”, he snaps at her while sitting down at the edge of the bed securing a dagger to his side.

“You can't tell me that you think this is a good idea.”, she says but Katsuki only scoffs.

“I'm sure you heard what they say. They start to think I'm an unfit leader. I guess it's time to remind them why I've become their leader in the first place.”, he tells her as he gestures for his mother to

come closer.

Mitsuki only sighs and looks disapprovingly at her son. Then, she steps closer and starts painting stripes and other patterns onto his face and body. Y/n watches intently. She notices that the patterns are different than the ones that were put onto her when she was shown off to the tribe.

“You know I shouldn't be doing this.”, Mitsuki comments.

Katsuki doesn't answer.

“Painting you for war is your mate's task.”, she tells him and Katsuki scoffs again.

“She'll learn in time.”, he replies.

Mitsuki throws a glance at y/n.

“If you say so.”

~*~*~*~

After Mitsuki finishes painting Katsuki's body, she leaves the tent. Katsuki takes a moment to ready himself. Once they leave the tent, it will be all high energy until he returns.

He turns to y/n who is watching him intently. When he doesn't say anything, she tilts her head

questioningly.

Katsuki pats her head and gets up. He grabs his sword and secures it to his belt.

Suddenly, they hear drums outside of the tent.

“The drums of war are calling us.”, Katsuki tells y/n, “Time for us to go.”

He gestures for y/n to get up and follow him outside. Y/n does so without complaining.

Outside, it seems as if the whole tribe is on the street. Y/n sees all men wearing similar paint on their faces as Katsuki. Also, they're all heavily armed.

Y/n looks around alarmed. What's going on? Are they being attacked?

Suddenly she spots Kirishima in the crowd. He's wearing a dim expression. Kirishima makes his way over to Katsuki and y/n.

Y/n oggles at the swirling red patterns that were drawn around Kirishima's armor. Katsuki elbows her roughly and she quickly adverts her gaze.

When Kirishima reaches them, he only says: “You're a fool, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, I've been told so today already.”, Katsuki grumbles.

“I'm not sure if organizing a raid in Todoroki territory is a smart way of securing the loyalty of your subjects.”, Kirishima points out.

“They need to be reminded that I can easily kill them if I have to. The best way of reminding them is to wring a few necks of Todoroki soldiers.”, Katsuki tells him.

Kirishima gives him a long stare.

“I'm sure that's the best way to make your men believe in your leadership skills.”, Kirishima says sarcastically.

A blonde man passes them and gives Katsuki a clap on the back. Y/n remembers that she had seen him before on the day that they arrived at the settlement.

“We're gonna blast these suckers!”, the man whoops and disappears in the crowd again.

“Denki seems to agree.”, Katsuki notes and Kirishima sighs.

“Denki's an idiot. He'd pick a fight with a bear naked and still think he could win.”, Kirishima complains, but Katsuki only shrugs.

“Do you really think we'll have to fight Todoroki soldiers?”, he asks his chief. Katsuki nods.

“Considering the scouts report and the rising military presence even in the outskirts of the kingdom, we need to be prepared to fight trained soldiers with swords instead of scared farmers with pitchforks.”, Katsuki points out.

Now it's Kirishima's turn to sigh.

“Well, your plan for this raid better be good. I'd really hate to die because our chief's a fool.”, Kirishima replies and starts walking. Katsuki gestures y/n to follow him.

Y/n notes how the entire tribe is walking in the same direction. She didn't know that many people lived in the settlement. There are mostly men and some elderly people. However, she also spots some women here and there. When she tries to smile at them, they quickly avert their gaze.

Katsuki tucks at her arm and pulls her forward. Only then she notices where they are going. Towards the gorge where the dragons live.

The dragons are lined up infront of the gorge. Y/n spots Katsuki's dragon almost immediately. The red one is a lot bigger than all the other dragons, even the mean-looking black ones. At least the green one's not here, y/n thinks and shudders.

She watches as some of the men say goodbye to their loved ones and then heave themselves up on their dragons. She sees a man kissing a woman who looks just out of place like herself. She doesn't seem to enjoy the kiss.

“Y/n”, she hears Katsuki say and she turns to him.

Katsuki is staring sternly in the dragon's direction before turning around to meet her gaze.

“I'll bring glory to you and our tribe.”, he tells her. He doesn't know why he does. It's not like she'd get it.

Softly, he traces the side of her face. Y/n looks up to him with big eyes. He grips her hips and pulls her hips against his.

“I'll come back to ya.”, he promises while running his hand through her hair. Y/n steadies her stance by putting her hands on his chest. Katsuki runs his hand up and down her back before placing it in her hair again. Slowly, he pulls her face towards his and kisses her deeply. Y/n's frozen for a moment, but then she kisses him back carefully.

Eventually, Katsuki pulls back. He places a last kiss on her forehead. Y/n watches Katsuki striding over to his dragon and mounting it. The men cheer.

With a mighty gust of wind, Katsuki and his dragon rise to the sky. Y/n watches as the men follow him. The swarm of dragons set off east and the drums are pounded until the dragons look like tiny ants in the sky.

Y/n turns around and watches the remaining people retreat to the settlement. She's a bit unsure what to do next. Most likely, she can return to Katsuki's tent. But then what? Katsuki and Kirishima are gone and it's not like Nadia will be of any help. Speaking of which, y/n hasn't seen Nadia around anywhere. Did she not come to send off her husband? Probably not, y/n concludes.

Suddenly, a cold, strong hand wraps itself around her arm. Y/n whips her head upwards and is met with a pair of ruby eyes. For a moment, she thinks that Katsuki has returned for her. Of course, that's not the case. It's the woman that Katsuki argued with.

Great, y/n thinks, from all the people helping me out, it just has to be her.

Mitsuki yanks her arm and y/n stumbles after her. They walk back into the settlement in silence.

Mitsuki takes her back to her tent. Inside, her ladies-in-waiting are working on a variety of tasks. Mitsuki points her toward an ancient-looking woman who is sewing. Y/n walks over timidly and the old woman pats at a cushion beside her while talking. Obviously, y/n doesn't understand her but when she hands y/n a torn shirt, a needle and yarn, y/n understands that she wants her to help sewing.

Y/n isn't a great seamstress but she's repaired enough clothes to know what she's doing. Her family never had much money, so she's used to repairing things over and over again. Also, it's kind of a meditative task.

For the next few hours, y/n keeps sewing one clothing piece after another while listening to the chattering of the old woman. She has no clue what the woman is going on about, but she doesn't seem to be unsatisfied with y/n work. Maybe she's just trying to make conversation, y/n thinks. Y/n decides that she likes the old woman.

Eventually, the pile of clothes that needed mending is worked through. The old woman puts the clothes into a basket and with a few words to y/n, she's walking outside the tent. For a moment, y/n thinks about following her. However, the woman gave no indication that y/n should follow her.

Maybe I was just supposed to help out with the clothes, y/n thinks. She turns around looking for Mitsuki. Maybe the woman has a new task for y/n, but the woman cannot be found anywhere. None of the other women are paying attention to y/n, so y/n takes a moment to observe them.

There are two older women peeling potatoes. The women are engrossed in a loud conversation. A young girl is sitting next to them cutting the peeled potatoes into thinner slices. She looks timid and doesn't chirp into the older women's conversation.

Best not to bug these two, y/n decides.

On the other side of the tent, there are two other women around Mitsuki's age, sharpening knives. The one with the blonde hair and the black streaks looks kind of brutish. Y/n contemplates approaching them since her father showed her how to sharpen knives before. Before she can decide against it, she forces herself to approach the women.

The women look up when y/n approaches them. They ask her something but y/n doesn't know how to respond, so she only points at the knives. The women exchange a glance but then make some space for y/n. The woman with the blonde hair starts showing y/n how to sharpen the knife, but y/n already knows the procedure, so she simply takes one of the knives and starts sharpening it. The women watch her for a good minute before deciding that y/n doesn't need any help.

The three of them work in silence which y/n appreciates after the old woman has talked her ear off. Also sharpening knives is a more demanding task than mending clothes. Y/n has to concentrate so that she won't slip and cut herself.

She's so deep in concentration that she doesn't notice Mitsuki entering the tent again and approaching them.

Y/n continues her work and when she thinks the knife is sharp enough, she lifts it against the light to inspect the edge of it. When she lets down the knife again, she notices Mitsuki standing next to her.

A shiver runs down her spine. Gods damn it! How did I not notice her?, y/n thinks.

Mitsuki takes the knife from her and inspects it. The other two women and y/n watch her intently. Eventually, Mitsuki lowers the knife and nods. The blonde woman claps her back. Mitsuki barks an order towards the women and they go back to work. Mitsuki swirls around and leaves the tent again.

I guess that's as much approval as I will get from her, y/n thinks taking the next knife.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[It's been so long, I don't know who of you even is still reading this story. So, I'm probably going to reset the tag list.

Please comment beneath this update if you'd still like to be tagged in future chapters. If you don't tell me to continue to tag you, I won't.

You're new here and want to be tagged? Please also comment beneath the latest update.]

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[signanothername]

While, Murder is unable to be as sneaky or cunning as Killer due to him feeling 24/7, and getting replaced the most meaning most Murders are lacking knowledge compared to the other Killers or Horror, does Murder!Sanses frustrate Nightmare the most? You mentioned before that Nightmare likes control, and he can usually puppeeter Killers and Horrors quite well, but Murders are the most wild ones, and ones to not have any weak point for Nightmare to manipulate, since they cannot do crap to Dusttale, Murders' Papyruses are dead, so Nightmare doesn't any way to make them stay in line. What will Nightmare do? Torture him, it ain't like the human didn't already mentally or physically torture him, kill him, it would probably amuse Murder to make Nightmare snap like that. While, sure, Murders do suffer as seen when their escape attempt failed, they seem the most determined to not give a flying fuck about Nightmare's control, and test, disrespect or ignore it the most. Also you mentioned 'last Dust', does that mean that eventually Nightmare stop recruiting Dusttale Sanses?

I’d say yes and no

Nightmare does get a bit frustrated with Murder in general yes, but one of the reasons he keeps getting Murder under him anyway is not only a love for control (even when Murder makes it really difficult) but also because he finds it a tad bit amusing, he finds Murder amusing, for Murder to have this absolute fire spirit of defying him, is like playing a little game of control with Murder, the same he does with Killer

But the reality is, no matter how much Murder defies him, or escapes, or how he talks back, Murder is still stuck under Nightmare’s mercy, because the reality is Murder cannot always escape even when he attempts it, sometimes Nightmare makes sure to remind Murder of how powerless he truly is

So despite the fact Murder lacks clear weak points, Nightmare is still willing to take the long route to see if he could break Murder, take one in, entertain yourself with them, learn about them, apply what you learned to your next attempt, rinse and repeat

Nothing will change the fact Murder has a will of steel, but it also will not change the fact Nightmare still breaks him little by little, and if actually given ample time, Nightmare is completely capable of snuffing that fire out, but that’s the catch, he doesn’t, he makes sure there’s always a fire guiding Murder’s actions, because a Murder without a fire is just a useless broken toy that he played a little too rough with than he actually wanted to

Nightmare loves to see that fire within Murder, loves to see his defiance, loves to see him look him in the eye and talk back like he’s nothing, because it means that Murder is still thriving, still has use to him

Nightmare’s desire to break Murder, is not in the form of completely snuffing his fire out, but simply to keep him in line, to simply control that fire so he can manipulate it to do as he pleases, to guide it to where he wants it to go

A Murder without a fire is just Killer

A Murder with little fire left is just Horror

He already has Killer and Horror, he doesn’t need a husk of a Murder that just acts like Killer, or Horror

As for stopping the recruitment, yes, he does stop, but not just Dusttale variants, when Horror escapes and he kills the last Murder he had under him, he completely stops recruiting all together, this means he doesn’t get another Killer beyond Killer 5, doesn’t get another Horror, or another Murder, Nightmare stays within his lonesome in his castle for a very long time afterwards, it’s not a Murder problem, it a Nightmare emotional/mental problem

[wooyoungbf]

[img id:

screenshot of a tumblr text post, in response to an ask. it reads:

saxifraga-x-urbium said "You can't just casually mention garlic cock man and not tell the story that's against the law"

the reply from stammsternenstaub reads

Are you sure you know what you're asking of me? Are you sure? Well, okay. But don't say I didn't warn you.

This post is long and contains description of genital injury.

So as you'll know, worked three and: a half long, hilarious years at an NHS sexual health and contraception clinic. I loved that job, and packed it in because the Tory cuts to the service meant running it became hideously untenably stressful, but that's a story for another time.

One of my duties at the clinic was to take phone calls. Patients liked me on the phone because I have a nice voice and I'm basically completely unflappable, and they felt happy to tell me things. A vital skill in the wang biz.

One day, a man called. This was not unusual, "Hello," he said. "I need to see one of your nurses about my, er, my chap."

"Righty-oh sir," I said, "are you experiencing any symptoms that you're concerned about? It's just a yes or no kind of question."

"Well," he said, and I instantly felt a dark and terrible energy pulsate down the phone. "Well... sort of. But, uh, it's not symptoms of anything, it's just..."

I would come to regret what I said next. "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Well." There was a pause heard fidgeting. "I got a yeast infection."

Phew, easy peasy. Yeasties are easy to fix. I sounded reassuring and buoyant. "Well that's nothing to worry about, sir - if you don't want to get anything over the counter from the chemist, we can-"

"No, no that's not the problem. Listen -" he sounded serious. "Listen, I'll just tell you what's the matter, and you'll see what I mean."

This is where, whenever I tell this story, I like to ask the listener to play a little game with me. The game is "Where Would You Tap Out?" I'd have already tapped out by going to the chemist and getting some Canestan.

"I didn't want any chemicals on my chap, so I decided to go for a home remedy. Internet said garlic was good for yeast infections, and I've got a lot of garlic, so I figured that'd be all right."

I made sympathetic noises. Home remedies for yeast infections are normal, and garlic is actually quite effective. "Oh good," I said.

"I wasn't sure how much to use, but I figured, I have lot of garlic usually, so I minced a whole bulb."

The dark energy wafting down the phone intensified.

"I packed it all over my, you know, knob, made a poultice. Packed it all over the head, like a hat But, uh, Iwasn't sure how to keep it on.."

I couldn't say anything. I didn't want to scare him off by sounding judgemental.

"..so I just duct taped it all on. Wrapped duct tape all round it."

Still with us? Tapped out yet?

"So er, that worked, kept it on nice and tight, and I left it on over night."

Over night. All night with your cock mummified in garlic paste like some sort of fiendish chicken kiev.

"Caustic,"' I said, before I could stop myself. "Garlic is caustic."

"Yeah! Yeah, it is!" he said, sounding cheerful that l, too, understood the Way of Garlic. "So I unwrapped my dick and, well, it looked kind of like... melted."

I sat, silent, on the phone. Already I'd missed 6 other calls, watching them sail by on the other line while this saga unfolded.

"So I figured," he continued, the terrible juggernaut barrelling unstoppably through this phallic disaster, "I should probably exfoliate it."

"Exfoliate," I echoed weakly.

"Yeah," said this abject human disaster, misinterpreting my echolalic expression of horror as hearty encouragement. "So I had a look around the kitchen -" he was in the kitchen for all this "- for anything I could use and got my brillo pad-"

For anyone not in the UK, that's what we call one of these:

(a picture of a stack of green scouring pads)

I must have betrayed myself and given a gasp of horror at that point, because he quickly reassured me - "No, no, no, it's okay - it was a new one!" before going on to describe scrubbing the affected area to

remove the alkaline chemical burn that he'd inflicted on his poor, blameless cock.

"So you want to come in because of. this?" I said, assuming he would want a new dick by this point.

"Oh no, no " he said, jovial again. "No, it's all fine - it just, my knob's gone all... well, it kind of looks camo print now. I was wondering if you could do anything about it looking camo print."

No, sir. No, neither we nor anyone else can do anything about your camo print garlic cock mistake.

/end id]

okay so I don't know how to look it up but there was this reddit story about a guy who heard you could use garlic as a home remedy for an std and /wrapped his dick/ in garlic cloves and duck taped them on. when he took it off his dick looked all "melted" (because of the fucking CHEMICAL BURNS from that). so he tried to scrub the melted parts off with a brillo pad. he called a doctor's line not because of all that, but because the brillo pad made his dick "camo print".

Well he wasn’t worrying about STDs anymore

OK seriously though I’ve never heard of that guy and I am sad that he didn’t have access to better information.

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Mydei forcing reader to fight him for their freedom / violence elements and threats / Mydei is overprotective but he generally sucks

Sparring with Mydei has never been easy yet it was battling him that has reached a cruel force of nightmarish experience.

You weren’t necessarily a weakling in terms of average human performance, yet no matter how strong you could have been, there would always have been a gap in agility and strength between you two—something Mydei didn’t hesitate to spill out for you everyday, deeming you as weak against Amphoreus. He wasn’t going easy on you during this fight either.

“Come on, great warrior. Didn’t you say you’ll win today?” Mydei taunted, you just few steps away; not enough to feel any resemblance of safety.

The words and your current state were making you panic as you were quickly catching up with the extent of how little you had left. You were already seriously bruised up, but it was your stamina and exhaustion being depleted at this point that made winning seem impossible. You couldn’t lift up your weapon anymore, let alone swing it at him. Your combat didn’t last that long, but Mydei was ruthless and made you like this sooner than you wanted.

And the loss was going to be a great gamble and sacrifice. Mydei had never truly given you much of a choice—you were forced to fight him, a deal he had enforced on you after your continuous rejection of his offer of protection. His prize? You’ll give in to him and said ‘blessing’. Should you win… he’ll leave you alone, something you desperately craved after him constantly forcing himself into your life—hence why you agreed to fight him in his place; no matter how foolish the idea was considering what you’ll have to give and the fact winning was unlikely.

But as mentioned, agreeing didn’t mean it was a choice for you.

Being deprived of options lied in the fact he’s been forcing you to stay leashed to him prior the fight, something you should have been able to decide or reject as a natural right of a person. You could have only tried to get away then, using the offered deal— deal made using your false hope he’ll let you go if you win, with him knowing it was a wishful thinking in eyes of his prowess. The win was just about solidifying your place behind him, where your protests no longer would have to be acknowledged, nor your struggle—since he would win fairly and you said yes to the challenge. Your oppressor would no longer have to limit himself in keeping you in his grasp, a caged bird you were soon to become; exchanging your freedom for safety only suffocating you.

“No… I can still…” you replied, all through heavy breathing; moaning in pain each inhale brought.

Mydei’s eyes narrowed at your words, further provoking his anger. You were truly irresponsible to force yourself to fight instead of just conceding and avoiding unnecessary harm to your body.

“Your stubbornness will bring you nowhere. Give up,” he hissed, his voice raising in its volume.

He was charging at you once again, his armor claw glove soon to be piercing through your body. You tried to move but your legs finally gave up on you, and you could have only close your eyes to avoid seeing the splash of blood and your flesh being torn apart.

You were met with none. What brought you back to open your eyes was his voice, making your stomach drop from its triumphal pitch. “Finally.”

You were given just a few seconds to process the fact you’ve just lost and about to become caged in his life as you were being lifted up, your feet dangling in the air, before manhandled over his shoulder, both sides of your body hanging over it.

When Mydei felt wetness on his back, he scoffed, “Warriors don’t cry. If you do, you are too weak just as I have told you. I’m done with your ungrateful misbehavior and you refusing to see your need for me.”

His grip tightened on you, ignoring your cry of pain from abrasions being provoked. Guilt was reserved for the times you were listening to him, as he was having enough of you constantly putting yourself in danger. Fighting enemies you survived but ended with injuries.

“I’ll break your legs if you try to run away again, since everything I tell you falls on deaf ears.”

[shizuturnspages]

Hi can I request gojo x yandere reader

Well you can make a yandere reader in love with Gojo since childhood, obsessed with him to the point of sending the servants to take pictures of him to collect

In adolescence the reader lowers her obsession with him because they are in different schools and she does not have enough time to watch over Gojo herself so she faces people to monitor he's schedules

But I would like a plot where Gojo always knew everything (you know six eyes) And he didn't make any comment or movement because he likes the attention.

✨That's all folks (⁠⌐⁠■⁠-⁠■⁠)✨

Through Your Eyes, Only Me

Pairing: Yandere Reader x Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru always knew.

From the moment you met as children, when your tiny hands clutched at his sleeve and your wide, adoring eyes locked onto his, he knew. There was something different about you—not in the way everyone else was different from him, but in the way you looked at him like he was something divine. Like he was beyond human comprehension, something untouchable yet utterly, beautifully yours.

The world told you that Gojo was untouchable. And you? You believed it—but that never meant you couldn't watch.

At first, it was innocent. Childhood infatuation was common, wasn't it? You followed him wherever he went, hung onto his words, and ignored every warning that Gojo Satoru was above you. You were the shadow trailing behind him, never seen, never acknowledged fully, but always there.

He didn't stop you.

Even when he caught glimpses of the little shrine you'd made for him, the polaroids his Six Eyes saw being taken by the maids you'd bribed, the way his discarded candy wrappers mysteriously disappeared after he tossed them aside—he said nothing.

Because, in truth? It amused him.

It was the first time someone treated him like something other than a mere human.

He never had to ask for your devotion—it was already his.

And that was entertaining.

Then came your separation.

Different schools, different routines, different people.

You could no longer follow Gojo's every move yourself. That was unacceptable. The distance gnawed at you, left you sleepless, restless, desperate—so you did what you had to.

People could be bought.

Surveillance was easy to obtain when you had the right connections. It started small: bribing students to keep an eye on him, slipping money into the hands of those who attended Jujutsu Tech. You tracked his schedule like a general planning for war, ensured that no one got too close, that the wrong people were warned, intimidated, removed before they became a problem.

Did Gojo know?

Of course, he did.

Every whisper about him reached his ears. Every curious gaze that lingered just a second too long, every tense shift of the people you’d recruited—his Six Eyes saw everything.

He could have stopped it.

Could have stopped you.

But why would he?

Why would he reject the attention, the devotion, the sheer adoration you offered so freely?

It was entertaining.

So he let you continue, never acknowledging it, never calling you out.

But he saw.

And it thrilled him.

By the time adulthood arrived, your obsession had been honed into something methodical. It was no longer the foolish impulse of a love-struck child—it was careful, deliberate, hidden behind layers of control.

But Gojo still knew.

He knew when you switched from mere surveillance to direct intervention.

When rumours of certain women who showed too much interest in him suddenly disappeared.

When enemies who spoke ill of him met mysterious, unexplained misfortunes.

When your influence crept into his life like an invisible force, ensuring that he remained exactly where you wanted him.

You thought you were careful.

That made him laugh.

Because at the end of the day, you could never hide from him.

Your obsession wrapped around him like an invisible leash—one he never fought against. Because, truly, why would he ever reject the idea of being the centre of your world?

Your eyes had always seen only him.

And Gojo Satoru would never let that change.

Not now.

Not ever.

It was amusing, entertaining even, to have someone so completely devoted to him. He never stopped you because, deep down, Gojo Satoru loved being worshipped.

And if that meant letting you obsess over him for the rest of your lives?

Well, who was he to stop you?

After all, you were his little shadow, weren’t you?

[salem-witch-slut]

These Walls Come Down (18+)

Ellie Williams x Abby Anderson

SYNOPSIS: Sequel to "Behind Closed Doors"

Ellie and Abby were cruel to each other before, but now it's destroying them. Can they just admit they love each other already?

WARNINGS: Dubious Consent, pain, strap-on use (Ellie!Receiving), eating out, fingering, violent sex, crying, confessions of love, dom!Abby, sub!Ellie, both of them hurt each other, choking (not kinky, violent lol)

WORD COUNT: 3.4K

A/N: this has been in the works for literal months. Shit, maybe even a year! But heeeeyyy.. here it is... we're cool right?

Something shifted that day.

It wasn’t the first time she’s denied Abby’s advances. Certainly not the first time she’s pushed away the idea of aftercare from the blonde, but things between them went from passive aggressive banter and angry sex, to full on brutal fucking and never speaking a damn word to each other.

When they get paired for patrol, they are the first ones back every time. But you would think that after last time, Abby and Ellie would stop with the hate sex, but no. They don’t do anything normally. In fact, they may fuck more now than ever before. Every moment they could spare being alone? Abby was shoving her fingers into Ellie’s cunt and holding her mouth to stop her screaming.

At every lookout on patrol? Ellie’s on her knees with her face in Abby’s pussy, getting a massive fucking headache from how hard she would pull on Ellie’s hair just to make her eat her out faster. The sex was animal, and the words were few to none… But the one thing that did stop were the kisses.

Abby stopped kissing Ellie. Even if Ellie was expecting it and behaving to the best of her ability, Abby wouldn’t give her an inch. She would rather close her eyes and focus on the moment, and not give in to something she knows won’t ever happen.

Ellie missed it.

It wasn’t the same without Abby’s little kisses here and there. It wasn’t the same without her words of praise and not constant degrading. It definitely wasn’t the same with Abby leaving bruises and scratches all over Ellie’s body, and not even bothering to acknowledge her pain afterwards.

But why would she try? Until this point, Ellie has denied everything that Abby did to try and show she was human and not just someone to fuck her. But now that she wasn’t refusing, Abby wasn’t offering… And she has thought on so many occasions that she would feel so much better if Abby had kissed the bite mark that she left behind on her shoulder… or applied that salve that she always offered to do on her ass when she was finished with her.

But now, Ellie had no choice but to take care of her wounds alone, in the privacy of her small garage home. And she cried after patching up the cuts on her shoulder when Abby shoved her into the ground so hard that the pavement ripped her shirt.

Truth be told, Abby was angry. No, she was far from angry. Abby was fucking livid. She was expecting any day for Ellie to refuse her advances, but she just fucking took it every time. Abby wanted to stop the sex, but she couldn’t bring herself to quit on her own. No, she needed Ellie to say stop… But she never did. If anything, Ellie was hungry for more now that it was next to meaningless to her.

See the issue here? Both are upset that things have changed, but because they haven’t said anything or denied the advances, the other thinks that it’s fine and they continue like nothing is wrong, hurting each other more in the process.

Of course, they do. It’s Ellie and Abby.

It was the middle of a bad snowstorm. The path was frozen and the horses weren’t making it all the way back to Jackson in the blizzard. Abby and Ellie had no choice but to hide out in the lodge on their patrol route. The horses were downstairs while they set up their makeshift camp in the living room.

After starting a fire in the firepit and checking to make sure the area was secure, the vicious cycle of abuse continued on like nothing was different.

Abby had brought her strap this time. It was almost like she had anticipated them both getting trapped here for the night. It was only minutes before Ellie was pushed down on the ground, her legs wrapped around Abby’s hips as she pounded the toy cock into Ellie with so much ferocity, it was absolutely going to bruise her cervix later on.

Abby’s hair was loose from its usual braid, damp from the snow outside and trying to dry it out in the heat of the fire. Their clothes were laying by the pit so they could wear them tomorrow and was it any wonder how they started fucking so fast with having to strip off their wet outfits?

With every brutal smack of her hips, Ellie cried out and wrapped her arms around the blonde’s shoulders, hiding her face in her neck and trying not to actually cry and show any kind of weakness in Abby’s stone faced presence.

Abby wasn’t even looking at Ellie. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she had her head bent down, hair falling in front of her face as she gripped the fabric of the sleeping bag behind Ellie’s head and fucked the girl into a state of borderline pain.

It felt fucking amazing… but it was also hurting beyond what Ellie was capable of handling. She dug her nails into Abby’s shoulder and sobbed. “A-Abby—”

“Shut up,” Abby snapped, immediately cutting off the redhead’s plea and going right back to her violent thrusts into Ellie’s poor cunt.

“Abby, please—”

“Stop fucking talking.”

“Abby, stop!” Ellie shouted, grabbing the blonde hair and yanking hard. And this time, it wasn’t to tease her or make her get more aggressive. No, Ellie was trying to cause real pain in order to get Abby to stop moving for even a second.

It was the desperation in Ellie’s voice that made her finally stop moving, not the pull of her hair. Normally it would excite her, but this time, Abby only saw anger in Ellie’s eyes. It was really quick to break her heart as she moved away from Ellie, very carefully sliding out her strap and feeling her stomach twist uncomfortably at the noise Ellie made. It did not sound good.

“What are you doing?” Abby questioned as Ellie rolled over on her side, curling up into an almost fetal position and hiding her face in the pillow next to her head.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Ellie scoffed, not even bothering to look at her. “You try to literally fuck me until you break something, and I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’ve never complained before—”

“Because it never hurt that bad before,” Ellie turned back over and looked Abby in the eyes. Tears were glistening in those green irises and threatening to fall at any fucking second, but she bit her lip and held them back. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Abby undid the buckles on her hips and discarded the strap on the pile of clothes while sitting down next to Ellie on the floor. It took a lot of self-control for Ellie to stay on her eyes, and not her muscles. “I’m not the one being a total bitch.”

“No, you’re just acting like a heartless cunt!”

“You’re the one who has pushed me away at every single opportunity!”

“And you somehow think that means I want you to fuck me like you’re a wild animal?!”

“If you didn’t want it, you could have fucking said something.”

“You don’t let me say anything!” Ellie was getting in Abby’s face now, her hands shaking in fists as she was mere seconds from punching the blonde as hard as nature would allow. “You shove me down and that’s the final time I get to talk!”

“And what would you even fucking say? What’s the point of you talking if it’s just to shut me down every single time?” Abby deflected, her heart racing with adrenaline as she was fully prepared to fight her right here and now. Feelings be damned, Ellie didn’t get to treat her like this; like Abby has been the one emotionally unavailable.

“Maybe I fucking wouldn’t this time! Did you ever think of that, you stupid, ungrateful—”

There was no telling who attacked first. But in seconds, Abby was on top of Ellie and she had her hands wrapped around the girl’s throat. Ellie grabbed at Abby’s wrists, her teeth bared like a wolf as she tried kicking her naked form off of her with all her might. There was no telling what she could do in this state, because Ellie felt like she could fight a bear with all the adrenaline racing through her body.

“Get… off of me!” Ellie gurgled out, her knee coming in contact with Abby’s stomach as she shoved the blonde away and onto the floor. Ellie turned over on her side, coughing violently as Abby curled up and held her stomach with both arms wrapped around herself.

There was a moment of tense silence where neither of them said anything. All they did was look at each other and feel. They felt the pain that both could inflict on each other, and how much it hurt not just physically, but emotionally as well. Abby felt that dull ache in her stomach from Ellie’s knee, but also that unbearable pain in her heart when she saw how Ellie was rubbing her neck and coughing.

Ellie saw the overwhelming guilt in Abby’s eyes and how if there wasn’t a blizzard outside, she would run from this moment and hide away until hell only knows when. The pain in her throat was nothing compared to the agony of her heart.

They were both so painfully in love with each other that it was bordering on maddening.

Abby dropped down on her hands and knees and slowly crawled towards Ellie. For a second, Ellie considered grabbing her knife to fight her off again, but her nerves relaxed when the blonde simply fell forward and pushed her face into Ellie’s chest. The sound of sniffling had Ellie tensing up, and it was followed with the wetness of tears on her freckled skin. “What are we doing to each other?”

How does she respond to that? “I… fuck, I don’t know, Abby.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie blinked hard, looking down and seeing how Abby’s hands were curled into fists and she was tucking them between her thighs, almost as a way to hold herself back. Ellie knew how hard it was for Abby to apologize for anything, and she was apologizing to her? “Wasn’t supposed to happen this way… I never meant to hurt you like this.”

The way her hands were shaking with fear as Ellie reached for Abby’s face, lifting her head up to meet her eyes. Tears streamed down the blonde’s face, dripping onto Ellie’s chest as the redhead let out a painful sound.

“I hate you,” Ellie muttered.

“I know,” Abby said, taking the insult. She didn’t say it back, though.

Ellie continued. “I hate you. You drive me crazy, and you think you’re the best fucking thing ever, and you’re so arrogant, so fucking bossy, so mean, so… everything…”

Abby nodded, still allowing Ellie to cradle her head in her hands, leaning into the softest touch that they’ve shared with each other in almost a month. Her heart was racing and she just wanted things to go back to how they were… she missed Ellie’s kisses so bad that it hurt.

“I hate you… I hate that I love you.”

It was like a switch flipped for both of them. In seconds, Abby went from staring at Ellie to grabbing the back of her head, pulling her down and capturing her lips in the deepest kiss she’s shared with someone in her life. Not a thing could separate them now as Abby grabbed Ellie’s hips and pulled her into her lap.

“Say it again,” Abby whispered on Ellie’s lips as her large hands curled into her red hair.

Ellie gasped, shivering at her touch and the taste of her tongue. “I love you.”

“Fuck, again,” Abby pleaded, slowly readjusting before laying Ellie back down on the ground, this time with gentle hands sliding up her sides and grabbing for her neck. “Say it again, baby.”

“I love you,” Ellie said. Her heart was racing beyond comprehension as she met every single one of Abby’s feverish kisses. “I fucking love you, Abby.”

“I love you, Ellie,” Abby breathed against her face, breaking the kiss for the smallest second to push her blonde hair away from her face and really look down at the girl she was kissing. Ellie was practically hyperventilating, her chest rising and falling with every harsh breath as she reached up, tracing her fingertips against Abby’s freckled cheek.

Abby reached for Ellie’s wrist and kissed the inside of her hand. The small gesture was enough for Ellie’s eyes to roll back in her head and she immediately attempted to grind up against Abby’s solid thigh. The things that Abby managed to do to her were pathetic, but she can’t help herself when in the presence of such a goddess like Abigail Anderson.

“Let’s try this again,” Abby smiled. It was that silly, giddy smile that was hardly ever something Ellie got to see, but now she felt so fucking blessed with it. Her heart raced without a buffer of emotion as Abby reached for Ellie’s thighs and lifted them up. “Slower this time…”

Ellie reacted like Abby was a magnet and she was nothing but scrap metal in her path, reaching down and running her fingers through the blonde hair that fell in front of Abby’s face and obscured Ellie’s view. It was so different than what she’s used to… Abby was rough, calloused, and aggressive. But now?

Abby left searing hot kisses along the inside of Ellie’s thighs, rubbing at her tan, freckled skin and taking her time with everything. She could see the slight goosebumps raising on her skin as Ellie’s entire body shivered, reacting to Abby’s touch like she was a live wire.

This was a different kind of sex; Abby and Ellie had never done this gentle and slow. Even their first time together on a patrol, it was more a show of strength and to see who could end up on top. Abby won, but only because there was a wall behind Ellie and she was able to lift her off the floor and into the air where Ellie was defenseless and couldn’t really fight back (not that she wanted to).

Since then, Ellie had always been at the bottom in their relationship. But things felt different this time… And when Ellie felt Abby reach for her hands and slowly place them on the back of her head to card through those long blonde locks, Ellie snapped and bucked her hips upward, meeting Abby’s mouth halfway and groaning with pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Ellie shuddered, holding her hips upward for a second before Abby placed her hands on the bone and pushed her down to keep her still. Her tongue slid between the freckled girl’s slick folds, teasing at her clit with the tip of her tongue before dipping down and pressing onto her slightly gaped entrance. “A-Abby…”

The blonde shivered, her own body trembling with goosebumps as she nuzzled her nose against the fluff of hair on top of Ellie’s pubic bone. She focused her attention on Ellie’s clit, lapping at it like a dog as her left hand reached down and scraped her nails over her stomach, down that trail of hair that met her mound. Ellie’s spine arched, and her taste got richer afterward. Clearly, Abby was doing something right.

Extreme caution was used moving forward. Ellie whimpered, clearly still sensitive from the brutality before. Her eyes glistened with slight tears before she felt pressure against her opening and let out a deep, low groan of pleasure when two fingers slid into her. Ellie forgot to breathe and for a second, thought her lungs might have collapsed. 

Abby was gentle this time. Her fingers curled up, scissoring out for a second as if she needed to stretch Ellie after what her strap did, and she looked up to meet the redhead’s gaze before pressing her tongue flat on her clit and rubbing against that special spot inside of her that made Ellie cry out over the sounds of the snowstorm. 

“Abby! Ohfuck, Abby!” Ellie cried out, unable to keep her words contained as she arched off the floor and bucked her hips upward against Abby’s mouth. Very slowly, Abby removed her tongue from the girl’s clit and looked down, watching her fingers pump in and out of that pussy she has grown addicted to. 

“That’s it, sweet girl,” Abby praised, her chin wet with Ellie’s arousal as she scooted closer and pressed her arm into the space behind Ellie’s head. Ellie whimpered before Abby hit her sweet spot again, making her eyes roll back and cross for a second at the feeling. The blonde loved it when she made those faces, it was the sexiest thing to her to see Ellie blissed out after fucking her so good. “You look so fucking cute like this.” 

“Mmmfff… D-Did you h-h-have to say that?” Ellie stammered over her words, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against Abby’s with a wordless plea of attention. Abby conceded, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against her cheek before she began to pick up her speed. Her wrist flexed as she bent down over Ellie’s body, muscles rippling down her back as she focused on that spot inside of her cunt like it was the only thing she cared about.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Abby chuckled breathlessly, hair falling down in front of her face. “My sweet, pretty girl… I love you, Ellie–”

“Please don’t stop,” Ellie sobbed, holding onto Abby like her life was on the line. Abby met her eyes again, seeing them glisten with tears that were threatening to spill. “P-Please, Abby… Please, I love you, I fucking love you baby, s-so much–”

Ellie couldn’t stop saying it. Her words blended together as the pleasure began to take over. Abby gently rubbed her thumb on her clit, watching the redhead’s eyes and seeing the way her shoulders tensed and she fell back on the floor. Abby kissed her, unable to resist as Ellie’s words got swallowed up in her mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Ellie whined into Abby’s lips, her thighs shaking and her toes curling into the fabric under her body. Abby lifted her off the floor and before Ellie could voice her confusion, Abby had Ellie straddling her lap, legs spread apart as far as they could be before she hammered her fingers into her slick cunt with reckless abandon. Ellie saw stars in her vision.

“Come on baby,” Abby whispered against Ellie’s neck, kissing down the column of her freckled throat. “Come on, cum for me. Cum for your girl, Ellie.” 

Ellie sunk her nails into Abby’s back and barely had time to voice her warning. A broken sob escaped her throat as she wrapped her arms around Abby and buckled forward, face shoving against Abby’s shoulder and crying out in euphoria. “C-Cumming! F-Fuck I’m c-cumming Abby!” 

Abby cooed softly, kissing the girl’s cheek and up to her lips to take her broken sobs and words of pleasure. The sounds her pussy made were echoing off the lookout walls now, wet squelching noises loud enough for anybody to hear. Ellie’s body shook violently with pleasure as Abby fucked her through her orgasm, holding her close and then slowing her movements down until she was confident she could pull her fingers out. 

Ellie felt boneless in her grasp, holding the blonde close and scooting further up in her lap until she was able to hide her broken sobs.

“M’sorry,” Ellie said, her voice shaky. “I’ve been s-such a bitch to you for s-so long, and all y-you wanted to do was love me… I’m fucking awful, I’m sorry…” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Abby frowned, pulling back to look into Ellie’s eyes, the green irises sparkling as tears spilled down her face. “We were both awful… I should have been clear on what I wanted from the start.” 

Ellie sniffled, trying to school her emotions but failing miserably as her bottom lip trembled. “A-And what was it you wanted?” 

Abby laughed. “You. I’ve always wanted you… And not just to fuck you,” She kissed Ellie before continuing. “To love you.”

Ellie sobbed again, but she was smiling as she did so. “You’ve got me… I’m here, Abby. And I’m yours… for real this time.” 

“Good,” Abby held her close, basking in the warmth and ignoring the sticky feeling of her sweat against her own skin. “Because I’m not letting go this time.”

It took these morons way too long to admit that they loved each other. It only became clear after they tried to kill each other. 

But of course it did. 

It's Ellie and Abby. 

[kermdoeswriting]

Bruce Wayne's a Foster Parent. Also he avoids death a lot so a dead person can usually tell if a humans meant to have died but didn't.

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

"Bruce you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to but-"

Bruce just sighed from his side of the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nobody ever really expects to get a phone call nearing 3 am but exceptions had to be made when you were a legal foster parent and also a part-time secret super hero. If it wasn't one thing calling for him it was the other.

On the other side of the phone, Bruce heard the caseworker, Roni, chuckle.

"It's just for 3 nights and half of the day after, but I need you to be prepared for something before I can pass them off to you."

Bruce sat upright now on his bed, attentively listening to her words. Usually the kids didn't really come with any pre-warnings from the Caseworker themselves, letting anything about each Foster kid be said inside of their personal files that got sent along with them.

But when she gave out this information it was usually important. The last time Bruce had gotten a warning like this it was for Jason which was ages ago it feels at this point.

"What is it?"

"The kids are-" Her voice trailed off, like as if she was still searching for the right words to say. "They've been through what I can honestly only describe as the equivalent to a meta-kid trafficking lab"

Bruce shifted as he heard the driving continue on the other side of the phone.

"They're very guarded because of what they went through and they might display.. unusual behavior. More unusual then a meta-kids behavior after such a situation would be, but don't let it fool you! The kids are really sweet beyond being afraid."

Bruce frowns at the descriptions before replying to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the idea of these kids and what they might have went through.

"I'll make a note of it then. Thank you, Roni"

"No, thank you, Bruce. I really appreciate this last minute placement. We'll be by really soon"

He was left with a click as he removed himself off his bed and threw the covers to the side of him. Alfred would want to know that they would have 2 new guests in the manor, at the very least to greet them and have rooms prepared even if they didn't need to have them prepared further then what they already were.

It was less then 5 minutes later that Bruce found himself, with Alfred, greeting the temporary fosters at the front door. Roni looked tiredly at them as she pushed the kids front and center.

Bruce could relate heavily.

"Hello Danny, Ellie. It's nice to meet you both, I'm Bruce Wayne."

Danny just stared at the mans outstretched hand for a second before he turned to look up at him, a pinched look on his face. Ellie matched his expression, although being a bit more subtle about it as she looked over Bruce as a whole.

Eerily, Bruce felt like his very soul was being judge the longer the kids stared at him. He also felt a sense of familiarity with these two kids the longer this continued.

They seemed detached rather than afraid like their caseworker had explained earlier, more so viewing the world as if they were outside of it rather then in it in any way.

Danny was quick to glare at him after another moment, "You're a fruit-loop, aren't you?"

Ellie broke from her own scanning almost immediately when she heard Danny's comment, cackling beside him before shoving him off with her arm. The action made Bruce smile as he took his arm back and placed it by his side.

Alfred also looked amused between the pair of siblings before turning attention to the task at hand again. Bruce just smiled at his pseudo-fathers usual fondness over children, knowing he was being reminded of his own grandchildren.

"This is Alfred. He's going to be the one to show you over to your rooms for the next few nights." Alfred greeted the kids in the same polite way he usually greeted all guests before he leaned down and extended his hands towards their belongings. He didn't grab their belongings just remained leaning over them before questioning the kids if they would like help to take their stuff to their rooms.

Bruce only really saw it faintly and if it were any other moment he might have ignored it as a sleepless hallucination, but for some reason he noticed the change immediately. The twins eyes go from a darker blue to a flashing bright green.

As if alarmed by the sudden movement towards their belongings.

Danny was quick to catch his own staring as well, eyes flashing back to blue for only a second before reverting back to green. Almost as if to give off some kind of warning.

Ellie noticed his staring immediately and shoved Danny again, this time more forceful for his attention before turning to whisper something to him when she had him back.

Bruce felt his skin crawl before turning away to face their caseworker, not really understanding anything they were saying beyond hearing a few words and feeling their eyes look between each other and his back.

Death Touched was an especially new description, and one that stuck in his head the second he heard it.

Bruce waited until the kids were guided away by Alfred before talking to their caseworker officially and waking her up from her half delirious tired drop-off.

"Hey Roni? Is there any chance we can extend the Fenton kids stay?"

There was something going on here with these kids and he was going to get to the bottom of it. One way or another.

[sup38008]

Guys, do you think Adam and the other 2 (maybe 3 with Lucifer) archangels would be besties post cannon?

Like Adam and Michael are already like a married couple. So he’s already got one down.

Personally I think Adam’s first meeting with Raphael and Gabe would be rocky for obvious reasons, but then they become great friends. To the point even Michael is jealous of them.

And their friendship only actually happens because Adam is like the only being that treats them normally. Like their actual people(archangels) instead of eldrich entity’s that should be feared.

And no one has ever done that for them. Not even their fellow angel siblings. They are the highest and most dangerous weapon heaven has. And with that, the power, responsibility, and burdens of the job has left them above everything else. So there’s no room for actual genuine friendship.

Like even with Gabriel, the winchesters were kinda “friends” with him. But not the same way Adam and him could be. Like at their core, TFW feared Gabriel in a sense. I mean he is an archangel, they would be fools if they didn’t.

They knew he could kill them anytime he wished. He has repeatedly showed them his powers already. (Like the repeating Tuesday). So yeah, they weren’t really “friends”, so to say. Because at the end of the day, they wouldn’t trust him as far as they could throw him. Which isn’t much. If at all. And trust is a needed basic component in any kind of relationship.

And we don’t even have to start with Raphael, that mf ain’t got no friends, that’s for sure😭🤞.

And now we get to Adam, bro has lived with the archangel MICHAEL for like 1,000 years or 50,000. Pick one. He is so used to the archangel bullshit, it’s not even funny. 😞 And he’s like idk, the second or something oldest human, so bro is just chilling with anything after being with MICHAEL; IN A CAGE. For years.

So he’s used to super mega powerful being that doesn’t have human limitations.

So to him, Gabe and Raphael are just his boyfriends brothers. And just that.

He treats them like normal people, talk to em like normal people, and just acts like nothing bothers him. Like they don’t scare him. (They don’t, Michael’s protective ass ain’t letting nobody touch his human 💀)

So of course these lonely ass, sad ass archangels are like, “hmm, interesting. I now see what Michael saw in you”, and are like, “lemme give this a chance, he genuinely ain’t scared of me”. Cuz for once, someone isn’t.

They’re being treated normally, like normal people with their own issues and troubles. And this is exactly what they need after the whole, god just using them like replaceable toys in his story. THAT DOESN’T EVEN REVOLVE AROUND THEM, HIS FREAKING CHILDREN.

So yeah, a sense of normalcy is needed. And Adam is happy to provide it. Bro is literally the kindest person on earth, bro’s been dealing with Michaels troubled, protective, first nepo baby, and just-say-the-word-and-I’ll-eradicate-the-entire-universe-if-it-so- -much-as-bothers-you ass. To have the patience for that, bro has my respect ✊.

Also they would get along just fine too. Great even.

Adam has this side of quiet, melancholy, wise, and understanding to him, that developed in the cage. And this pair well with Raphael’s character, so they chilling having a cup of tea and biscuits while reading medical books on a sunny afternoon; basking in the company and just peace and quiet.

Adam also has this unhinged side that also developed in the cage, cuz Yk. Humans aren’t meant to live this long, so he’s just here and doesn’t give a flying fuck on a rolling donut anymore. Pairs well with Gabriel’s trickster ass self.

So they definitely ganging up on TFW, and pulling the craziest, meanest, and funniest pranks on them knows to man and; archangel apparently. 😩

This is also fueled by Adam’s dislike for the Winchesters. Cuz Yk, they left him in the cage. Some family they are. 🤷‍♀️ All in all, they become an unstoppable duo.

Anyways, what do you guys think? Thoughts and comments are welcomed in this blog. Write your hearts out, it will be appreciated! Let me know if y’all want to hear my perspective on this with Lucifer added. I think I have been rambling enough for today.

Buh-bye 👋

[ryoko-loves-roses]

Interference

Ler!In-Ho + Lee!Gi-Hun

A/N: Thank you to whoever suggested this!! It was really fun to write, but it's like 1 AM so I'm going to go to bed now lol. Please leave some feedback <3 Summary : After Gi-Hun vowed to find the man that created the very same games that changed his life for the worst, he decided to rejoin, only to find out that his tactic for his 'hero complex' would have some... consequences. ═════════════════════════════════════════ Seong Gi-Hun lost everything—his mother, his friends, and most importantly, himself. So why on earth would he want to join the games again? It was a question even the Frontman couldn’t answer. - As Gi-Hun sat in the back of that familiar black limo, his face was void of any and all emotion. He stared blankly at the golden piggy bank, with his dead eyes staring into its soul. The memory of the island was haunting him every time he closed his eyes. He could see all 455 people who died there - in vain. The man Gi-Hun was before the 2020 Squid Games completely vanished. The light that he once had in his eyes? Gone. The hope he had for humanity? Vanished. Or was it? - “Let me play the game again.” His dark voice rang through the tense air - he was in the back of the limo, making sure not to break eye contact with the piggy bank right in front of him. Silence followed him, his own self-doubt stirring in the air. Was he really wanting to go back? What the fuck was he thinking? Though, it was true when he said that the VIP’s would find it entertaining, would they not? A former player to cause chaos and wreak havoc. Before Gi-Hun knew it, the limo filled with gas, knocking him out in a matter of seconds. Once the gas cleared, the slide door that divided the front from the back of the limo was rolled down. The Frontman looked back, his black mask hiding his true identity. Was this really it? Is player 456 going back to the games? - Gi-Hun was startled awake, the rock-hard mattress beneath him. Was he really back here? The same place he got traumatized relentlessly? He quickly sat up, almost bumping his head into the top of the bunk bed in the process. As he got up from the uncomfortable mattress, he looked upon the sea of confused, and mildly distressed players. “Hey! Where the hell are we?!” One player yelled out, and another followed with “This is kidnapping!” There were comments left and right from the crowd as the guards in pink suits stood on stage. Gi-Hun just stared, silently walking up to the crowd, before pausing in his action. He suddenly whipped his head around, staring right at the camera on the wall. Something - or someone was staring back at him. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could feel it. God, what was he thinking? Getting himself into this mess AGAIN?? He thought that maybe - just maybe… he could try and help people… warn them?

For the first time, Gi-Hun read the clauses thoroughly. - players MUST compete. - any player who refuses to play are eliminated And of course… - the games can be terminated if a majority of the players agree. There was nothing in the rules that mentioned helping a player could get him eliminated, so why not try it? The next thing Gi-Hun knew is that they were all transported into a room he knew all too well… The ground was sand-filled, and the walls along with the ceiling had the allusion that they were outside, but it was apparent they weren’t. At the very end of the room, there was a giant doll - she looked familiar to most of the Korean players. Young-Hee - she was usually found in some Korean textbooks, that much was apparent, but why the hell was she here? Most players were confused, - till they heard the announcement. “The first game you all will be playing will be - Red Light, Green Light.” The announcer spoke, the voice echoing across the fake walls and ceiling of this room that the players were kept in. “You are allowed to move forward when it shouts out green light. You stop when it shouts red light.” At this point, the players - besides Gi-Hun, were scoffing in pure amusement. That’s it? A stupid children’s game? Gi-Hun however - was dreading this. “If your movement is detected afterward… you will be eliminated.” Young-sik, a man with curly hair and messed up glasses decided to speak as the rules of the game were repeated in the background. “I told you, Mom - no gambling, just stupid children’s games!” He exclaimed to his mother, who had gray-ish hair, standing next to him with a confused expression. Gi-Hun needed to think of a plan, but he needed to think fast. Before he could stop himself, he ran forward, now standing in front of everyone. “Listen carefully!” He yelled, his voice loud enough to break sound barriers. “This is not just a game!” At this point, the others were looking at the man like he was a junkie. What the hell was he on about? “If you lose the game .. - You die!” … What? The others were looking around in shock, but a bit of doubtfulness too. I mean… that’s expected, right? This man that they’ve never met (apart from Jung-Bae) was telling them that if they got eliminated, they’d die. It’s the instinct to not believe, right?

Some players laughed, some scoffed, but all n’ all, no one believed him. Even Jung-Bae - a man who has known Gi-Hun for quite some time was doubting him - his own best friend. “Hey! What are you talking about?” An old woman shouted from the crowd. “You say we’re going to die playing red light green light? -” Of course, Gi-Hun’s plan wasn’t thought out thoroughly. Without another thought, Gi-Hun responded. “Yes, that’s right!” He yelled out to the crowd of confused and partially amused players. “If you get caught - you die!” Right now, The Frontman was looking at the cameras, and though his mask was hiding his identity, he was in disbelief that Gi-Hun thought this would work. Surely no one would believe him right? - Gi-Hun didn’t have time to explain any further as, the doll, or so to speak - Young-Hee, turned around slowly, her robotic hand lifting, touching the tree in front of her. As this happened, The Frontman took off his hood, then mask, putting it on the table next to him. It was clear - In-Ho had bigger plans than just to let a stupid former player ruin them. He reached for his cup of whiskey, taking a swig as he heard the last comment from Gi-Hun. “Do not be alarmed or panic!” Gi-Hun yelled, trying desperately to make the other players believe him, but it was all in vain. In-Ho was almost… amused to a certain extent. Unfortunately for Gi-Hun, the announcer spoke one more time. “Let the game begin.” Gi-Hun looked back in pure fright - looking at the crowd again, he raised his hands in a stance motion… as the game began. “This… will be interesting” In-Ho thought to himself, tapping his foot impatiently against the concrete floor. - ”Mugunghwa-kkochi pieot-seumnida…” Quickly, and with great stances, the players moved across the sand floor, but once Young-Hee stopped singing, - they quickly stopped, along with Gi-Hun who made a quick motion. “Freeze!” He yelled out, the expression on his face anything other than calm. He wanted to make sure his efforts meant something.

Now - This ticked In-Ho off. He scoffed as he looked at the big TV broadcasting this incident in front of him. He should’ve known Gi-Hun would pull something like this, but truly, he knew Gi-Hun couldn’t be eliminated since he technically didn’t break any of the clauses that the games had in place. The point of the games is for players to be eliminated, which makes it more interesting to the VIPs. In-Ho watched on as no players got eliminated so far, which did take away the whole purpose. He got visibly irritated, which was rare given the fact that he is usually the master at controlling his emotions. Young-Hee’s robotic eyes glanced around the room, much to In-Ho’s dismay, green outlines took their form, showing him that no players could be eliminated. He just hoped that someone would make a mistake soon. As this tactic continued to be used, Gi-Hun figured he couldn’t stay in one spot for too long before the timer ran out or he’d be a goner, so he turned around, keeping his mouth covered as he ran at the third ‘green light’. So far, no one has been eliminated - “Freeze!” Gi-Hun yelled out again, his mouth covered to make sure Young-Hee couldn’t detect it. His bestfriend since grade school, Jung-Bae, stood beside him, a wary and fearful look on his face. He was unsure why his bestfriend - a man who he knew to be kind, generous, and outright a gentle person - yelling? Telling everyone that they’d get shot if they got eliminated from a stupid children’s game? He was starting to think that Gi-Hun really was crazy after all - In-Ho stared on, the floor of player pictures along with their player numbers still full to the brim. Fuck. Maybe In-Ho made a mistake of letting player 456 rejoin the games. …that was until a bee landed on kang mi-na - a girl with gorgeous hair, but one flaw - afraid of every insect in the book. Thanos was the one to inform her, and as she screamed with fear, she suddenly stopped with realization. “Crap.” She laughed, “I just moved.” And just like that, she got shot straight in the forehead. Thanos froze - maybe that ‘drunk guy’ wasn’t lying … In-Ho leaned back on the couch - his stoic features never left his face, though glad this could be the outcome. “Nobody move!” Gi-Hun shouted again, making sure to keep his mouth covered with his elbow. “You must not move!” The announcer then spoke - ”Player 196 - eliminated.” There was subtle frustration on In-Ho’s features, however - knowing Gi-Hun was “ruining” the game in some aspect. The others looked in quite horror, but so far, they managed to keep still - for now. In-Ho looked down at his cup of whiskey, humming in thought. Surely the frontman had all of this under control, right? He always preached about how he, himself follows his own rules, but if Gi-Hun couldn’t get eliminated, how would he stop this? So he began to think -

Unfortunately, Gi-Hun couldn’t save everyone from being eliminated. Around 90-ish players were eliminated, which the crowd of enraging players was told once they were escorted back to the main player dormitory, scuffed up and bloody per usual. Despite Gi-Hun’s efforts, he stood helplessly as he watched the others who first doubted him now blame him for even saying anything in the first place. In-Ho let out a sigh, leaning his head back. ”Gi-Hun, you imbecile.” He muttered to himself, suddenly picking up the walkie talkie that laid next to him, speaking a command into it. ”bring player 456 - unharmed and immobilized.” Once the command was spoken, In-Ho put his glass down on the side table, reaching for his usual black mask, and putting it snugly on his face, further hiding his identity. He then stood up… preparing for his final plan. - Under NO circumstance would he let a measly player ruin the fun.

… Gi-Hun awoke startled, his head throbbing with pain. The last thing he knew, was that he was dragged out whilst the others weren’t looking, and knocked unconscious almost immediately by two guards despite his pleas and efforts. There was an unidentifiable cloth in his mouth, gagging him, and making him unable to speak. Out of instinct, he tried to move his limbs but figured out immediately that he was restrained to the metal chair he was currently in. His arms were strapped behind him, along with his bare feet that were currently tied to the chair legs. The light flickered above him, as he looked around frantically, trying to speak but failing as he was still currently gagged. Then - he heard footsteps. Like clockwork, a man in a black mask… a man who Gi-Hun hadn’t seen before up to this point was surrounded by two of the familiar square guards. Gi-Hun’s eyes widened in fear, his frantic response still muffled by the gag as The Frontman walked up to him - the square guards stood at each side of the doorframe, closing the double doors and locking them in unison. The Frontman’s footsteps rang through the room as he stopped right in front of Gi-Hun. He knelt on one knee in front of the chair the frantic man was currently strapped in - now at eye level with him. ”Player 456.” His dark voice echoed off the walls, which shook Gi-Hun to his core even more - What the fuck was this about? Why was he suddenly kidnapped and brought into a room where god knows where?! He tried to speak, but all that came out were helpless muffles. “Mhhf-!” It wasn’t noticeable, but In-Ho was currently smirking. With one movement, he ripped the gag off of Gi-Hun’s mouth, earning a gasp of relief. “Fuck -” He choked out in a gasping voice, trying to make sense of the situation he was currently in. His arms and legs tensed, which only made The Frontman chuckle darkly, putting one firm hand on the chair’s back and keeping it steady as he spoke his next words. ”I should’ve known you’d try to save everyone. Your god complex is too strong, hm.” As In-Ho spoke, he contemplated taking off his mask, now deciding to keep it on, wanting to keep his identity a secret for now. ”Fuck you.” Gi-Hun spat out with a tint of venom and malice in his tone, which In-Ho honestly expected. He couldn’t help but smirk, though it wasn’t visible to his future victim. ” I’m stopping the harm you’re doing. I read the clauses, and nowhere does it state that I can’t help anyone!!” Gi-Hun argued, his voice rising in pitch. That was… true… and In-Ho hated that part. He knew he couldn’t physically hurt the man in front of him, but still - he wanted to give him a scare, to make sure he never tried this shit again. *” You have a point, Player 456. However—I can warn you without breaking my own set of rules… even though it may not be… conventional -”

What?... What the hell does he mean? Conventional? At this point, Gi-Hun’s mind was racing at many miles a minute, unable to pinpoint In-Ho’s words - or what they meant. Sensing Gi-Hun’s immense confusion, The Frontman stood up, his smirk hidden behind his mask. ”I suppose I will show you what I mean then, hm?” Before Gi-Hun could question it, The Frontman began to remove his gloves from his hands, showing his calloused but mostly manicured fingertips - despite this, Gi-Hun wasn’t sure what to think. “What … What the hell are you doing? -” Gi-Hun muttered, his voice becoming a bit shaky as he spoke. The man in front of him, however, put his black gloves on the table behind him, walking up to Gi-Hun with a purposeful stance. ”You tried to interfere with the games, and though you are correct that there wasn’t a rule set in place for me to punish you with elimination… nowhere in the book does it say I cannot punish you directly.” Gi-Hun didn’t have the chance to react before feeling two strong sets of fingers dig into his sides, - the man doubled over in hysterical laughter, and god almighty - if the room wasn’t soundproof, it was possible that the entire island could’ve heard him. - “SHIHIHIHIT -” Gi-Hun’s mind was racing as he tried to kick in reflex from the ticklish sensations, but his legs were tied down along with his hands - it was safe to say that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon… At this point, In-Ho was glad he had a mask because he was smirking like an idiot. Gi-Hun’s cackles rang through the air, gasping between laughs, although managing to speak a bit. ”EHehHEHAA-! FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU!-” …Really? All he could shout were insults? Pitiful. In-Ho only dug deeper, and goddamn - something about this man’s touch sent the other into fucking space. I mean, Gi-Hun never pointed himself out as the ‘most ticklish guy’ but somehow he couldn’t stop laughing. Gi-Hun’s fingertips as well as toes curled as In-Ho decided to change places. He stood in front of the breathless player, deciding to knead his knuckles into the man’s ribs And ohmygod -

Gi-Hun’s eyes widened, his laughter going up SEVERAL octaves. “FUHUHUHUHUCK-!! NOHOHOOHOHO!!” It hasn’t even been 5 minutes and the man was already laughing like a lunatic. At this point, In-Ho figured he should say something. “..I doubt you are the same man that won the games before… you are laughing like a child at a few measly pokes. Pathetic.” The man in black taunted, only kneading his knuckles deeper - Gi-Hun shook his head from side to side as he laughed himself to tears. Currently, Gi-Hun wished he had never rejoined these damn games, or helped these players, but surely that’s just the ticklishness talking … right? Gi-Hun’s feet drummed against the solid concrete floor, and he could only pray that this ruthless man showed him some mercy, but it didn’t come. In-Ho’s eyes narrowed in amusement behind his mask, again contemplating if he should remove it or not. Gi-Hun tried everything that he could - thrashing, turning, god - even begging didn’t make this cruel man stop. He looked toward the two guards who were still guarding the door, but they just stood there awkwardly, doing absolutely nothing to save him from this torment. ”IHIHIIM SOOHOHORRY-! PLEheHEHEASE-!” As Gi-Hun pleaded, In-Ho let out a low chuckle, suddenly retracting one hand… and reaching up to his mask… With one click, he undid the strap, - taking off his mask. ”Apologizing, Gi-Hun?” He stated darkly, his smirk that was filled with malice now visible as he stood up. ”Unfortunately for you, we have all day here.” Gi-Hun only had a brief moment of breath before In-Ho’s hands shot forward, both sets of fingers suddenly drilling in between Gi-Hun’s ribs… To say he screamed would be an understatement. Gi-Hun jolted, almost knocking the chair he was in to the floor as he cackled with hysterical laughter. ”FUUHUHUHUHUUCK-!! PLEHEHEHASE- PLEHEHEHEPLEEHHEASE-”Gi-Hun pleaded with every chance he got, but it was brutally ignored by the man who was chuckling darkly at his expense and tickling the living shit out of him. It wasn’t about the rules of the games anymore that much was clear - but it was about how humiliated he could make player 456. The guy who swore that he could stop the games was nothing but a melted, ticklish mess in front of his brutal enemy. He tried to get a good look at The Frontman’s face, but it was hard to do that when his eyes were filled with ticklish tears, as he laughed his ass off - ”I hope you won’t call yourself ‘the hero’ after this moment, Gi-Hun… because now, you and I both know that you don’t deserve it.” …as much as Gi-Hun didn’t want to admit it, it was true - what hero would cackle like a toddler at a few digs and scribbles? His sides and stomach hurt like hell, but no matter what, he could not stop laughing. … *In-Ho only hoped that after this moment, Gi-Hun learnt a valuable lesson: interference isn’t worth it.

[utilitycaster]

Forgive me if you've already been asked something on this topic, but I was curious about your opinions re: Laudna's epilogue. Specifically, about how her lifeforce and aging is now tied to Imogen's in a 'marriage' ceremony even though they've only been dating for a few weeks in-game. It felt like an extension of the flaws baked into her entire arc that Laudna bound her soul to yet another magical woman, and in a way that would discourage any conflict between her and said mage. Laudna's epilogue with Imogen being considered a 'happy ending' really hinges on the idea that those two each other's perfect matches

So this is an interesting approach! I have to admit: I don't find the choice to age to be particularly bad, nor discouraging of conflict. I think it just means that she'll live around as long as Imogen will, as a human woman. I think if they were to break up, or if Imogen were to meet an untimely end, it just means Laudna would still live to a typical human lifespan.

But this is an interesting point that I think I touched on briefly when interacting with that weirdo last night, which is that it really feels in the end that Laudna never has her own life. Hell, Liliana manages to more satisfyingly say "huh, I've spent my entire life from probably my early 20s to my 50s either effectively on the run and alone, I fell into the hands of a very powerful wizard who treated me as a vessel, I never really unlearned my brainwashing from that, and now that it's over I think I need to go out in the world and figure out who I am as a person because my entire adulthood was lost to that" and Laudna never does. Even the ritual to make her live a typical lifespan feels very much a having your cake and eating it too - it's always been interesting that Laudna made these sort of intermittently expressed overtures towards liking her weird gross undead state and that mechanically Marisha leaned into it beyond the rules of Hollow One but then she does not get the unwilling immortality because of yet another quite literal Deus Ex Machina. It feels like just one more case of this party getting to have it both ways, for free, without ever having to choose, and the dumbest people alive shrieking at me that what I find to be a desperate saccharine dying dream of an ending is happy and that because it is "happy" any criticism must be a personal failure (and then some other rando will weakly bust through like an incontinent kool-aid man to fart out how unfortunate it is people are so uncivil and unkind and attacking people's intelligence and morals this campaign, meaning, of course, me for existing while holding an opinion and not breaking down in tears and capitulating to everyone who comes on my posts, but not the people who come on my post and call me stupid and unfeeling, because they agree with those people, because campaign 3 appeals, as I've said many times, to the posers who can dish it out and not take it, and not to like, intelligent adults.)

I don't find this ending happy because it's so divorced from reality it feels like weightless nothing, in the end; that's my feeling on all the lack of consequences, actually - as one of my mutuals said, easy come, easy go. Laudna never has a story; she never lets herself out of her own cages to have a story. The only framing people can even come up with to make it happy is "she had TRAUMA and now she has an ENDING where she's left alone" and even then it's like. Personally my feeling on anyone who treats their trauma as the reason they are interesting should be made to retrace the steps of the Franklin Expedition, which will make them interesting and/or at least temporarily remove them from my vicinity. If being left alone to do nothing is happy, why aren't you guys giving me a happy ending.

I meant to be a bit more reserved in this answer, and I have a similar ask to get to as well but I think what I'm trying to express and slowly losing my mind over is that the people who like Campaign 3 and loudly defend it are increasingly quite literally not of an intellectual caliber or level of interpersonal empathy to even join in the discussion with those of us who found it lacking. It's like explaining quantum physics to toddlers. We find ourselves having to define words as basic as "conflict" and "consequence," and repeatedly, with eroding patience, explain "sometimes, I think it is interesting when bad things happen to pretend people, and it is boring when good things happen to pretend people, because they are pretend, and sometimes different people have different feelings, and that is okay! but you need to let people have different feelings. Someone saying they don't like the blue truck doesn't mean you can't like the blue truck! But you can't make them like the blue truck."

[lovelypastelsweets]

♡{Onychinus' Kitten:}♡ [Part #6]

Sylus Qin X female!Cat-Hybrid!Reader

{Notes:}

This is my first fan-fiction, if you have any tip/suggestions please let me know!In this story, the 'reader' is NOT the MC, and is female(I don't have an issue with males reading, but I don't know anything about guys, and I want to be authentic. If you'd like a male-reader fan-fic please collaborate with me to deepen my understanding of the male-mind)

{Trigger-warnings:}

This story will contain mentions human-trafficking(not in-detail; Technically hybrid-trafficking), the experimentation of humans-subjects, mentions past-trauma. ALSO; The reader is described as having all limbs, having the ability to use all senses, and as having hair. I'm sorry if this is an issue, I'm trying to be as universal as possible, but if you'd like a specialized part, please message me.

After dinner, the man, who you came to know as "Sylus", ordered his henchmen to escort you back to your room. He referred to them as "Luke" and "Kiren", but he didn't explain which of them was Luke, and which one was Kiren.

You now sat idly waiting for the two to arrive, with the bare, jet-black oakwood table before you. The crimson-red placement-mat gently cradling your hands as you softly rested them upon the table.

Sylus had left soon after giving his orders, so now it is just you and your new-found crow-companion.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as you waited. You were part cat, of course you get bored easily. It definitely didn't have anything to do with having a lack of a maturity level.

Little did you know, this wait was too, a test; To see what you'd do if you were left alone.

As boredom crept in, you leaned forwards onto the table, reaching out to pet the crow that sat perched on the table.

Y/N: "Hey, little.. Uh..? Me-? Meo-? Me-thh?.. Ah, little guy. I-ah, ha.. I can't remember your name.. He, he.."

You put you fingers through the the crow's feathers; It felt as odd as it looked. The feathers had a metallic texture, it was like dragging your hand across the handles of lined-up, thin silverware. Each feather had a soft texture and had some give, yet they were sold and firm, like a folding-fan.

As you petted the crow, it made a slight machnial "Iiia" noise.

Y/N: "Aw, do yo- Ah!"

Suddenly, you could hear footsteps as you went to speak. There seems to be two people walking towards the dinning room.You jolted into a proper sitting-position, retracting your hands to sit in your lap; The reaction rote.

The door opens to reveal the two hooded people who escorted you earlier.

"Wow, you're still alive? The boss really does like you."

One of them said.

"Surviving an entire meal with the boss definitely speaks volumes."

Said the other one.

"It seems we've been tasked with escorting you, again. So, let's go."

As they spoke, they walked to you, then gestured with their heads to leave. If you weren't imagining it, One of them seemed more flamboyant than the other. Looking closer, you realize that on their hoods, they have differing numbers; "06" and "07".

As you walked down the same hallway you walk earlier, gained the courage to ask for the subordinates' names.

Y/N: "Uh, h-hey? Is it alright if I.. Ask for your names?"

"And, what would you do with that information?"

"Just telling you wouldn't be any fun."

"Yeah."

"Why don't you take a guess?"

They turned towards you, and leaned in.

These two, they seem to be the very definition of "Mischief".

Y/N: "Uh.. Um, You're Kiren and.. You're Luke?"

You pointed at each of them, guessing a random answer.

"Wrong answer! Try again!"

"You only have one chance left!"

They spoke as if you were a contestant on a game-show.

"Um, okay. Then.. You are Luke and you are Kiren."

You said, reversing who you pointed at.

"Nope! That's incorrect!"

They said in unison, laughing as the began walking again.

You let you a small "Wha-!?", before walking with a quickened pace to catch up with them.

As you continue to walk, you caught sight of a window that you were nearing; Going outside was such a scarce thing, only done for training purposes.

Luke and Kiren immediately lifted their guards when noticing your reaction when seeing the window; A glint in your eyes and your fluffy ears gave a twitch. But, after a moment, your expression changed; Eyes drifting downwards and looking dejected. After all, 'why would they let you go outside?'. The twins could understand. And, against their better judgment-

"Do you want to go over there?.. To the window?"

"We can let you."

They spoke with such fragility. They sounded nostalgic. They sounded so gentle. It was like they had just out a band-aid on a old, ugly scar, that was left as a gaping wound since it was made- Not just to cover it, but to treat it with the care it never received. Your heart, it felt tight.

It was odd, but you wanted to take this chance. It may not come again.

Y/N: "O..Okay."

They kept walking, changing the directory to stand in front of the window.

You stood in front of it, the twins stood silently behind you as you slowly came closer.

The window was clean; Shiny and reflective.

You took a glance backwards at the twins, the thought of someone standing behind you while your guard is down makes you uneasy, but they keep at a distance, which at that, you decide to move look back at the glass before you, moving even closer.

Looking at your reflection, you looked odd, but you liked it. You looked so different, you were hardly recognizable. You didn't mind it though, it.. It felt right.

You came even closer to the glass, to see the world beyond it.

Leaning in gently, you hesitantly put your hands on the glass- It's cold. You jerk your hands back at the unexpected chill. After a second, you return your hands on the glass, intakiing the coldness with curiosity.

The dark cityscape sits below. It's a marvelous sight. Your lips curved into a smile, driven by your awe. You breath comes out in little huffs, wonder spreads through your thight-feeling heart and into your nerves. Your eyes widened, sparkles of excitement igniting within them.

Under their masks, the twins wore matching -as always- soft smiles.

"You seem to be enjoying this, but..We need to get going."

Y/N: "Ah.. Oh, okay.."

The sudden statement, brought you out of your awed-state.

Feeling sort of disappointed, you solemnly walked back to your room.

Before you reached the door, the twins came in front of you; One of them stood on the side of the door where the hinges are, holding the doorknob, the other faced you while gesturing the door as if it were a win-able prize.

"Are you ready?"

They gleefully said in unison.

Y/N: "Uh? Yeah..?"

You said, your voice unsure and confused.

"TA-DA!"

The two said with a flourish.

Your breath catches your throat- Before you, on the floor of an originally bare, dark room, is a large verity of bags and boxes filled with girls' clothing, plushies, and other items.

You're frozen in shock. "Did-did they.. Do this?" You thought.

Y/N: "Are.. Are these things.. For me?"

It was self-absorbed to assume, but you had to ask.

"Of course!"

"Who else would all this belong to?"

They replied. The one with "06" on his hood picked up a pink, plush bunny toy.

"As funny as it would be, the boss probably would kill us if we gave him this!".

He said while laughing.

The other twin walk to the gift-filled area and lifted a dress.

"If the boss wears 'this', death would be worth it!"

They both laughed as they pretend to wipe tears from their masks.

Their laughter was infectious, you began to giggle, too.

Without you noticing, they both stopped to witness you smile- It wasn't the forced one you gave before, it was real. It was beautiful. It was pure. It was something rare for the twins to experience, not just because it was from you, but because of the genuine, honest, and raw enjoyment in your smile.

Y/N: "Thank you. This- This is- .. A lot.. And, so.. So nice.. Thank you, both."

Through your slightly embarrassed and awkward laughter, your sincerity seeped through.

Nobody's ever done something like this for you. Nobody's ever went to such lengths for you before. Your chest felt so tight, it, and your stomach hurt. But you couldn't help but to enjoy this feeling.

Would this feeling last, though?

Were they just tricking you into lowering your guard?

["What does the word "Home" really mean?", it's a thought that always plagued you.. Would you ever learn the answer? Could you learn the answer here?]

[scalene-4]

for somebody that didn’t really use a cellphone until age 12 and didn’t own an iphone until senior year of high school, i’ve certainly made up for lost time. unless i make a conscious effort to face reality on its own terms for the first 10min of being alive on a given day, i usually roll over and grab this stupid thing to look at what other people are up to on instagram or scroll twitter and bear witness to the terminal polarization of society itself play out in real time.

i have to admit, if it were anyone other than elon musk (a nasty petulant man child of a person who seems to have obsessively dedicated his energy and platform to making life miserable for people like myself after his famous pop star ex left him for a trans woman) who had done it, i would genuinely think that buying twitter and changing its name to “X” was a hilarious and ascended move. like anything else elon does, it comes off as the bloated and out of touch result of never being told “no” in your life.

having unfiltered access to social media fundamentally altered me as a person in a really weird and kafka-esque manner. before senior year i was shy and watched the social dynamics of people in my class play out from the sidelines, disappearing into worlds of my own creation with my siblings and close friends once the school bell rang. i was a quiet kid and felt like nobody liked me or saw me, so why would i want to engage socially with the greater Point Loma High School Bubble once i wasn’t physically forced to? of course, these feelings were largely cope as like any other human being i just wanted to feel part of it all and i hadn’t yet realized that channeling this feeling of alienation into art was my greatest superpower. i saw the feeling as a personal failing of sorts, empirical evidence that i didn’t belong because something in me was broken and fundamentally unlikeable. secretly, i wanted really badly to be seen as popular and regarded by my peers, something i probably have never fully reckoned with as my adult life has largely been defined by the pursuit of becoming a famous musician. the roots of that go further back though and that will be a post on here for another time — at this point i’m an angsty 17-year-old completely cut off from the various social dealings of my classmates once school is out and i’m home with my guitar or a pen and paper or a lump of clay.

that all changed once i got an iphone 4S in the fall of my senior year. i immediately downloaded instagram and twitter and snapchat, wasting no breath in making up for lost time. i found that many of my classmates were quick to follow me back and engage with me on those sites, and i quickly became addicted to twitter in particular. the refreshing of the interface and pace of conversation and the way all of our adolescent drama played out for all to see in real time was basically kerosene for synapses yet to be fried on various psychoactive substances. i started making new friends at school from twitter, popular and attractive friends. i didn’t notice it at the time, but my previously regimented and passionate pursuit of excellence in songwriting and my instrument began to fade into the background as i was going to more parties and snapchatting girls and generally becoming a bit more full of myself with each passing day.

i like to joke that if i’d found tumblr at that age and had used soundcloud for discovery instead of just posting half baked acoustic demos to impress my classmates, i probably would have realized i was trans a lot earlier than i did. i tell myself that things play out the way they’re supposed to.

as time went on and the people from my phone began to see who i was in real life, i think whatever charm i was somehow able to conjure initially faded as i grew ever more confident in behaving like the exact kind of person i hated. i got too drunk at every party, i acted snide towards friends of mine i deemed to somehow be lower than me on my imaginary social ladder, i checked twitter every 45 seconds and i treated anybody foolish enough to date me like a disposable accessory. and the thing is, i wasn’t even really popular by any means. i think people kind of just put up with me because i was around.

i can’t blame my phone for this shift because it was simply the catalyst for igniting teenage insecurity into an unstoppable inferno of cringe behavior and self-centeredness. the nature of a tool depends entirely on the hands making use of it, and unfortunately those hands happened to also belong to a tool. thankfully about a week into college i fell in with a wonderful group of friends who immediately put me in my place and to this day we’re all still pretty close. they saw the lonely girl behind the toolish exterior and something about her was worth loving, even if she said dumb shit sometimes.

like i said just now, i don’t blame technology in principle for amplifying the worst parts of human psychology and behavior. i think those traits are things we need to reckon with in an existential sense, and we’ll always be inventing new things that enable our worst selves. however, i think right now in particular that dynamic is functioning at its most sinister in terms of our greater society.

we have just elected a convicted felon slash rapist slash racist slash wannabe dictator, someone who by any objective account had a messy and disastrous first attempt at the presidency and has wasted no time in round 2 sowing fear and hatred and platforming bigotry. so many people agree this man and his underlings should be taken down, but thanks to social media being the forum for these conversations most if not all attempts at collectivizing and strategizing seem to devolve into a mushy goo. no one can agree on who’s leftist enough or what constitutes bulletproof moral standing — my own community can’t even agree on who’s trans enough. no one wants to say it but i feel like all of this is largely due to the way these platforms incentivize negative engagement, and shrink our scope by addicting us to instant gratification. it’s a far quicker serotonin boost to dunk on some teenager with therian lesbian (it/she) in bio than to dismantle oppressive institutions over time collectively. we’re all hooked on feeling like we’re right and more importantly, like someone else is wrong.

i love the one meme where the left is arguing about whether or not a dog is allowed to play basketball or not, while a dog runs around the court dunking on all of them.

rich people will always have access to healthcare and abortion and be free to express their sexuality however they’d like (just look at how grindr activity spikes at any given RNC event), their decadent lifestyle directly subsidized by us peasants and our phone addictions. i think it is absolutely fucking insane that so many of us regularly acknowledge and joke about the fact that we’re being watched and our activities online are recorded and farmed and sold to advertisers. our going back and forth on x dot com about which pronouns are real actively and materially makes money for these people. our attention spans are so short that they can just keep introducing new events to milk our stupidity for capital and widen the gap as the world around us literally burns to death.

i think the whole luigi thing was a psyop sometimes.

think about it: wouldn’t it be in the ruling class’ best interest to knock off a mid tier ceo in a time of growing social unrest and awareness of the evils of that class? tiktok made it impossible to ignore the genocide israel has been committing on palestine for the better half of a century. even if we don’t always use them responsibly, we have open forums from which to commiserate and collectively realize that life doesn’t have to be this unfair. if i were a billionaire oligarch and could afford to do any insidious thing i wanted, my billionaire oligarch friends and i would absolutely sacrifice a lower tier one of our own in a staged event to placate the masses. when brian thompson was executed like a dog in the street we all pretended that it was this massive instant of social awakening and class consciousness, but really what happened is it gave us all means to sit on our laurels and pat ourselves on the back because Someone Else Had Done It For Us. notice there wasn’t a copycat killer! nothing happened! there was a highly publicized chase (the evidence every step of the way looking extremely convenient and staged) and then it turned out they found a guy and he was hot, and once he was imprisoned that was kind of the end of it. CEOs continue to leech off of us and destroy the planet with no fear of retribution, while the rest of us go online and tell ourselves good job.

tools are what we make of them. i think in this crucial time we’re experiencing, this rapid fall to fascism that is ALREADY TAKING PLACE, we either need to learn how to use the tools we have responsibly and intentionally, or perhaps make use of new or different ones. i feel every day like true class consciousness and organized uprising is within our grasp, yet we keep shooting ourselves in the foot while they laugh. i hope with all of my heart that the next brian thompson (would be awesome if it was elon) faces justice at the hands of the people, truly. no frills or discourse or fancam edits, just cold lead karma and an awkward gmod ragdoll pose on the ground.

regardless, it’s about to keep getting uglier and while i reserve no love for these disgusting rich pigs i’m trying to have a greater sense of patience and empathy for everyone else and even for myself. no one’s looking out for us anymore and it’s clear they never were; now that us faggots and trannies have lost our value as a photo op the democrats aren’t coming to save us. i have faith in and love for the people around me and hold a firm belief that we will have each others’ back once the chips are down.

i also wonder how much of my data has been sold in the time it took to type all this.

[artificialperscn]

"You've not been around Weyland-Yutani long, have you?" Max smiled with a sense of amusement. "There's a lot of us. Not all of them are like me though. Most are either domestic models or employed in the public sector. Some are life coaches, personal trainers, nannies, engineers, cleaners, personal assistants and things like that. Others can be used in jobs that prove perilous for humans since we can take damage without employers being sued and it's not like we get bored easily. Or at all, really." He shrugged at that, well aware that most people didn't care if their synthetics were damaged, they were just products, after all. "I was made specifically by the Company to work for them as a communications officer. I have more leeway than most synthetics, in that respect. No one owner giving me daily orders. I'm more... independent, I suppose. But I'm still regulated by my behavioural inhibitor like all the others."

A huff left him as he sat back in what looked like a more comfortable position, not that it actually made any difference to him aside from appearance's sake. "Sorry, I don't want to bore you with all that stuff." It was still odd to think about, the differences between himself and the rest of his kind.

"And you forget that I'm just a machine." Max teasingly reminded the man. "You're protecting me because I'm company property and because I'm a unique model. Ultimately, I'm an experiment, one that they'd lose vital data on if I was destroyed, or worse, taken without being able to recover it." A new expression took him, one that almost seemed like sadness. "You're human... that means you're still far more important than me in every way and now that you're working under the Company, you also have authority over me. If you order me to do something, as long as it doesn't conflict with my primary directives or behavioural inhibitor, I have to do it. The key difference is that you're able to fight back if someone tries to steal Weyland-Yutani property. Me." He added, pointing to himself. "I can't."

Agustín nodded, getting his rooibos and starting to fix two cups. It didn't even cross his mind that there was no reason for a machine to be drinking tea, precisely because of how gracefully Max accepted it. It seemed like this new contract of his would require a lot of getting used to these new circumstances. To this new form of life.

Shit, could he even think of Max as a living being?

"Another synthetic? Are there more like you? Like, many?" he asked, hazel eyes falling upon Max in curiosity. Would they all get a bodyguard too? Until last week Agus' life had been nothing but wealthy politicians or celebrities... This was quite an aggressive way to open his world to a whole new category of impossibilities.

"Order you?" He added, putting their teabags in the cups. "I don't think you're grasping the concept of having a bodyguard, Max. If anything, you get to order me. I'm only authorized to act without your consent if your life is in immediate danger."

At least, that's what a normal bodyguard contract would say. Sure, his affiliation to Weyland-Yutani had different clauses, but he hadn't bothered reading the 40 pages. He likely never would.

[mystardustinaperson]

this world should stop

how do we continue our lives when we see such horrible suffering around us

how can anyone see these pictures and videos and not feel anything at all

[crafting-mojo]

Oh hey isn't that that guy etho's obsessed with?

[warning-heckboop]

Oh to be able to make the complex lore comic that lives in my head about the concept of fairies, anti-fairies, and pixies once being a civilization of one single species of fae that splintered both metaphorically and literally due to internal conflict