#imagine his rage when they’re together

[daevastanner]

Hi. Reminder that canonically Azriel’s siphons flash and he stutters (for the first time in the whole series) when it’s mentioned Gwyn is in danger ✌️ — And this is his reaction when just a few months ago he didn’t consider Gwyn a friend 😏

[luvingarisu]

headcanons | ryohei arisu

author’s note: i started aib and ohmygod this man, smut hc’s are definitely ooc but i just need him so bad so i’m feeding my own delusions.

warnings: nothing much, just my first time writing smut hc’s😭

synopsis: pre-borderlands hc’s! also this is LONGGG, i have too many thoughts.

smut hc’s are definitely ooc. realistically he’s gonna be a nervous wreck but let me pretend.

not proof read

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ pre-borderlands

♡ he’s a loser, you know it, he knows it, his friends know it, and his father definitely does. but it makes him all the more endearing.

♡ he’s so, so nervous at first, but once you both grow more comfortable in your relationship he’s giving into your every wish, genuinely at your beck and call. you’re his whole world and he just wants to make you happy <3

♡ he’s a little gamer! mainly pc (unfortunately, i’m a ps5 girly) but he knows his stuff. definitely uses emulators to play games like resident evil and the last of us.

♡ he prefers online shooters and stuff, but he doesn’t mind story based games if they’re more action based, like re4.

♡ i think he’d prefer a girlfriend who doesn’t mind video games (or loves them like him) so you can play together and talk about games :(

♡ would definitely emulate it takes two on both his pc and yours so you could play together, it’s such a cutesy little couple game! you guys would have a blast playing together! :(

♡ if you had a console best believe he’s using it for at least an hour every time he’s over, won’t admit it’s better than his PC but you both know it’s what he’s thinking.

♡ loves it when you sit in his lap while he plays :( and you love it too.

♡ arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his controller on your thighs, chin on your shoulder as he plays, but he always gets distracted, giving you the attention you want so easily, kissing your neck gently, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips as he whispers in your ear.

♡ i can’t imagine he uses pet names often, if he does they’re classics like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’.

♡ “Baby, you wanna hop on call for a bit?” he texts you at least once a day every night you aren’t together, he ends up screen sharing a movie or show you can watch together.

♡ is also a boyfriend that makes you watch him play i’m so sorry but he just is. you see him rage far too often over COD.

♡ loves it when you call him ‘honey’, just does it for him.

♡ he’s a nerd so that definitely extends to different parts of his life other than video games, when you go shopping you always end up browsing new posters, figurines, and mangas.

♡ AOT is my favourite anime/manga so i’m gonna hc that it’s his too! ;)

♡ his favourite character is eren. without a doubt, just thinks he’s so cool, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees him turn into the attack titan for the first time, “Babe! Fucking look, that’s so cool!-“

♡ thinks you’re so pretty. while girls loved karube, the same couldn’t be said for him. in the show he’s in his 20s so i won’t say he’s a virgin, but definitely not super experienced.

♡ just can’t believe he has a girlfriend as pretty as you, no matter what you look like, goth, emo, a girl who loves to dress up and wear makeup, or if you prefer dressing down he thinks you’re so stunning.

♡ “you’re the prettiest girl ever.” (literal heart eyes)

♡ “your makeup looks really nice, baby :)”

♡ *stares at you in the mirror while you brush your hair.*

♡ “baby can you play a game with me, i’m bored :(.”

♡ dates are super lowkey! but you both love it that way.

♡ walks in parks, cinema dates, shopping dates, lazy days on the couch or in his bed watching movies are the most common ones.

♡ he does splurge on an actual restaurant for anniversary’s and valentines and your birthday with whatever little money he has.

♡ dresses up on those days too! He’ll wear a plain black shirt or white button up (whatever is more appropriate) instead of a graphic tee and some nice jeans or black slacks (he steals them from his brother.)

♡ for gifts he also keeps in lowkey, and so do you! you both can’t afford much so you just appreciate what the other gets you.

♡ he gets you little figures and posters he thinks you’ll like, or plushies! if you like makeup he’ll splurge a tad and get you a nice lipgloss you said you’ve been wanting.

♡ is definitely a boyfriend who gets gifts catered to your interests and things you like rather than buying you stuff he thinks all girls like.

♡ just over all very thoughtful, sweet, and very very handsome even though he refuses to believe it.

♡ pre-borderlands smut hc’s

♡ isn’t a virgin, but not experienced. one or two bodies before you i’d guess.

♡ let’s talk abt his dick 🤭

♡ he’s above average, but not insanely big. 6 inches, decently girthy but not so much so that it would hurt. it’s so pretty. a perfect size, two toned, a few veins and perfectly straight.

♡ i see far too many people hc him as a sub, but i honestly don’t see that, he’s neither and doesn’t have much of an interest in power dynamics

♡ you’re his equal, his baby, why would he wanna control you in anyway? :(

♡ such a titty guy. he is’t picky about size, but loves the way yours sit so pretty.

♡ soft pecks slowly grow into heated and lustfully heavy touching above your clothes, his big hands and lithe fingers shyly manoeuvring under your top. Inching their way up your soft flesh, they always find your breasts, caressing them gingerly as he softly loves on you.

♡ positions are nothing crazy, he loves classic missionary sometimes, just staring into your eyes, watching your face contort as you whine and moan. god you just look so good.

♡ but he also loves prone bone, getting you on your stomach, sliding himself in, slowly, almost torturously so. he fills you to the hilt, groaning into your ear softly as your bodies press together, sharing their warmth. he props himself up on his elbows, thrusting into you gently and slowly. he wants to savour every moment. without a doubt, he always brushes your hair away from your face, putting a large hand under you chin to crane your neck around to him, kissing you slowly as he fucks you into the mattress.

♡ bro LOVESSS head. like so bad. he loves giving, of course, he’s never been much of a ladykiller, so knowing he’s able to please you drives him mad.

♡ but he’s always down for you to suck his dick. he prefers laying with his back propped against the headboard, letting you work away. with a hand gripping your hair, or caressing the back of your head, and his other hand behind his own head, his mouth agape and eyes fluttering closed.

♡ on certain days, he thrusts up into your mouth, but poor boy always ends up feeling a bit bad :(

♡ ohgod and his fingers.

♡ long, lithe, slender. his hands are dexterous, soft and not overly calloused. anytime he uses them on you, he has you laying beside him whilst he leans over you, pumping them in and out, his thumb giving all it’s attention to your clit.

♡ the dirty talk is light, just filled with praise and light teasing

♡ he’s just too soft with you, he could never degrade you in the slightest.

♡ “attagirl, baby.”

♡”doing so good f’me.”

♡”you look so pretty, baby, my pretty girl.”

♡”makin’ me feel so good.”

♡ and just strings of curses as he praises and loves on you

♡ he’s just too good to you :(

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this. PT 3.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

[shanastoryteller]

a continuation of 1

Dean doesn’t sleep.

He spends the night with a bottle of Jack and a crowbar, tearing into junker cars that were never going to run again anyway. Bobby leaves him to it, maybe sleeping, maybe not. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.

Casey sits there on the roof of a rusty beetle, legs crossed and leaning back on her hands as she watches him. He does his best to ignore her, but it becomes impossible around dawn when his Jack goes missing and he sees her tipping her head back to swallow it down. “Get your own.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” she says, licking the whiskey from her lips.

He snarls, “Fuck off. You’re not my damned babysitter.”

She laughs, not mocking, not cruel, but like she finds what he’s said to be genuinely funny. “That’s exactly what I am. I don’t think Samuel will be too pleased with me if I let you die of alcohol poisoning.”

The crowbar he’s been swinging for hours suddenly feels too heavy and he lets it drop, instead running a hand through his hair. He thinks the moisture there is sweat. It probably is, otherwise Casey would have had something to say about it. “And what? You do what he says or he does to you what he did to Lilith?”

“Lilith wished to bring about the end of the world,” she says, “and, more importantly, the end of you.” He shudders, rebelling against her words even after being confronted with the truth of them. This is because of him. Sammy did this to save him. He’d rather be in hell. “Killing her like he did was for Ruby’s benefit, but he was never going to let her live.”

“So he’ll make your death quick then,” he says.

“If I fail in my duty to protect you, I imagine my death will be slow and cruel,” she says. “But I’m not doing this because I’m afraid of Samuel.”

“Right,” he says, lips twisting. “Carrot, not stick. Your lover will be returned to you if you’re a good little soldier.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a soldier and Samuel is not a general.”

He wishes he was drunker for this conversation. Despite Casey’s words, he’s basically sober, too long between drinks, too long spent sweating it out in his rage. “I don’t understand.”

“Samuel is my king,” she says gently, reverently, “and I am his subject. If he calls on me to be a soldier, then I shall. If he calls on me to be a jester, then I shall.”

He wants to laugh, but his throat is too dry and she has his dam whiskey. “So, what? You’re just going to hang around watching me all the time? That’s perverted.”

Casey tilts her head to the side, spreading her legs and licking her bottom lip. “We could make it perverted, if you like.”

She’s hot, but revulsion rolls through him. “And if Sam called on you to be a whore, you’d be that too then? What would your lover have to say about that?”

“We’ve been together a long time. Exclusivity loses its shine after a while. We are demons, after all.” She sighs, shifting until she’s leaning forward, elbows on her knees and a look on her face that he almost believes is sincere. “You know better than most how cheap sex can be. If Samuel wished for me to use my body in that manner, I would not object. But it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like then?” he snaps. “Casey, I swear to god, I’m going to fucking lose it. This is – this is just–”

He can’t even finish. His baby brother is leading the demons, just like that yellow eyed bastard always wanted. They’re calling him king.

He tore apart Lilith like it was nothing. Ruby had told him there was no way out of his deal, but Dean wonders if maybe she’d just given up on getting Sam to wear the crown. Or if maybe his deal is still in place, still perfectly valid, only Sam’s not letting anyone collect.

“My orders aren’t that specific,” she tells him. “That’s sort of the point. You want to take a roll in the sheets? Sure. You want a hunting partner? Having a demon as back up comes with perks. You want to retire to some cabin and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist? I’ll take up knitting. Samuel could have ordered any of his demons to protect you, but he picked me. He didn’t just want to give you a bodyguard. He hoped that we could be friends.”

He doesn’t want a friend. “I want my brother.”

Casey softens. “He knows that. So does he. That’s why he couldn’t let you die. You get that, don’t you Dean? You made a deal with the devil first.”

Dean presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Everything he does ends up hurting someone he loves.

~

When he stumbles into the kitchen the next morning – or early afternoon, technically – Bobby is drinking a beer and staring at Casey, who’s seated across from him with four different boxes of sugary cereal in front of her and a jug of milk. Bobby’s eyes flicker over to him. “Someone went grocery shopping.”

“Where’d you get the money?” Dean asks and immediately regrets it. She obviously just stole it.

“Your wallet,” she says. Bitch. “Eating is fun. We didn’t have these when I was human. Want a bowl?”

“What the hell,” he says, collapsing down in front of her. She huffs, but gets up to get him a bowl and spoon, dropping it in front of him. The box of Lucky Charms makes his stomach twinge, so he settles for Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He says to Bobby, “You’re just letting her stay here?”

He shrugs. “It’s not like I can get rid of her, thanks to Sam. Besides. She bought beer.”

Technically, Dean bought beer. “Okay, that’s another thing,” he points at her with his spoon. “What’s with this whole sacrament thing? Is that how Sam’s getting demons on his side, making them immune to exorcisms and shit?”

He hopes not. The last thing they need is a hoard of supercharged demons, even if they’re answering to his brother.

She wrinkles her nose. “Of course not. Many of us believe. Others are simply interested in picking the winning side and chose correctly. Those who followed Lilith did so because they believed Samuel to be unworthy, but with her death they’ll know better. They’ll bow to him. Or die.”

“What about Ruby?” he asks.

“Credit where credit is due,” she says stiffly. It occurs to Dean that Casey doesn’t like Ruby and feels just a little bit of fondness for her because of it. “She realized the truth first. Probably because she used to be loyal to Lilith. It’s almost ironic. She is to Sam what Lilith was to Lucifer.”

Bobby shares an irritated glance with him. It’s not that Casey isn’t being forthcoming, it’s just that half of what she says doesn’t make any sense. “I was actually talking about the whole sacrament thing.”

She straightens, face alighting with a smug sort of pride. “No, Ruby hasn’t taken the sacrament. Samuel has only offered it to me.”

“So that you could protect Dean without being sent back to hell,” Bobby says. She nods.

He rubs a hand over his face. “I still don’t get how drinking my brother’s blood did jack shit.”

“I’m purified,” she says, then takes a large bite of her cereal.

Dean’s just now noticing that she’s mixed all four cereals into one bowl instead of eating them sequentially, which is the most demonic behavior she’s shown so far.

Apparently this is going to take a while.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (1 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, protective Kyle, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

With no one to turn to, you contact Gaz, knowing that he'll listen. But old instincts are hard to ignore, and Gaz comes to you because your current boyfriend isn't worth your love. He needs you to understand that.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

It’s late. The colors on the television are bright in the dark room. Sound is off but Kyle isn’t watching. It’s more for the background. A distraction. All the muscles in his body ache. That’s how it always is when he returns from another deployment.

Everything is fine until he arrives home and plops onto the sofa. Like a slumbering bear emerging from winter hibernation, his body reacts to the sudden silence of rest as if peace isn’t something Kyle deserves. It’s why he’s always gone, and because of his continuous absences, you left.

Lonely. You were always lonely with him, and it’s because Kyle made it so. It’s a constant regret that sits in the back of his throat like spice buildup. It burns. Rages. Simmers.

When Kyle’s phone starts buzzing, he doesn’t notice at first. The screen is bright like the television, but it isn’t until its rattling boxy body shifts that Kyle’s gaze glances downward. He considers leaving it, allowing the caller to fall to voicemail, but something stirs in his stomach. It hooks his attention.

Perhaps it’s the late hour or the sudden tightness in his chest. Something is bothering him like stubborn sticky spots on the kitchen floor.

Kyle sits up, reaching for the vibrating phone on the tabletop.

Your name scrolls across the screen.

At first, Kyle’s mind cannot comprehend it. The letters that make up your name move over the screen of the phone in a blur, almost like they’re moving too quickly. But that isn’t possible. Kyle’s mind simply cannot comprehend why the hell you’re calling him this late at night.

You are no longer his. The two of you aren’t together. You moved on and rightfully so. Kyle has seen all the social media posts, and sometimes the blokes at work might bring you up, usually to provoke him. But the fucking joke is on them. The separation was mutual. It was kind and calm and fine.

But that doesn’t mean Kyle hasn’t thought about you. There is no box inside his head to put you in. There is no hole or lock or key or barren wasteland where he could simply toss your memory into and forget.

Kyle didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to let you go.

But you weren’t happy. He was always gone, and still is. Kyle never figured out how to be a partner to you when he was a partner to his work.

He regrets not fighting for you. He regrets not speaking up instead of gently bowing out.

And it’s late. It’s fucking late. Why are you calling him?

Hope—or a sliver of it—blooms in his chest, twisting around inside his body like ribbons around bone. When the feeling pulls taut, that excitement slides into worry.

The two of you are not together.

You rarely call him.

But his phone is buzzing.

And you are waiting on the other end.

Kyle’s slides his thumb across his phone’s screen, answering the call. He brings it up his ear, and that is when he hears it—a choked inhalation. It is one he recognizes. You’re crying, and trying to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” asks Kyle automatically, the instinct to take care of you rising to the surface.

There is a soft sniffle before you speak. “It’s—fuck. I’m sorry for calling you this late. I didn’t think you’d even pick up. Or be home. Are you home? Shit. I—”

“What’s wrong?” he repeats, because there has to be something wrong. You’re calling him, not your boyfriend. “Are you hurt?”

The idea of someone putting hands on you builds in his mind. It is followed by so many other possibilities. A wrecked car. Someone following you home. Everything.

“No—I mean.” You pause, sighing. The difficulty to communicate doesn’t sit right with him. You’re clearly in distress and the need to fix it is unbearable.

“Are you at home?” This time Kyle lowers his voice. Makes it soft. Gentle.

“Yes,” you answer.

He nods as if you can see him. “I’m coming over.” Kyle is already pushing off the couch, shrugging on his coat, and reaching for his keys.

“Kyle.” You say his name—just his name—and it says so much.

The ribbon between his bones loosens. Tightens. Ties his emotions and memory of you all together until your face is all he can picture.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kyle makes it in fifteen.

When you answer the door, Kyle shatters like glass hurled against the wall. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. The look on your face dances between anger, sadness, and relief. He has no idea where on the spectrum he currently sits but this vision of you only puts him back to those days when he’d come home for a few days, taking off again, leaving you with nothing for stretches at a time.

There are no awkward greetings. No embarrassed flushes. Kyle does not hesitate, and you open for him. He reaches for you, and you answer in kind, embracing Kyle so hard you might squeeze the air from his lungs.

That would be fine. Kyle would happily suffocate.

Kyle stands and holds you, breathing in your familiar scent, pressing his face into your hair. His eyes close, and it’s just like before. Like you never left him. The sensation of you this close ignites every possessive part of him. It tells him to not let go and to keep you close.

But you are not his woman. Not anymore. And yet you should be.

He does not pull away until you do. But you don’t retreat into your flat, or slip out of reach. You stay right where you are, the two of you hovering just inside the doorway. On instinct, Kyle is touching you, one hand cupping the side of your face, your tears staining his skin where he touches your flesh. His other hand is on your upper arm, thumb rubbing across the bare skin there in gentle strokes.

You begin to melt, the muscles in your body relaxing. What Kyle wants to do is to take you to the couch or the bed, to drape you over his body, to place you in his lap. That is the intimacy he craves. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

Those gorgeous lips of your part, mouth opening as if you wish to speak, but whatever you want to say is lodged in your throat. In their place come fresh tears and sudden shifts of emotions that range from frustration to despair.

You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and Kyle only wants to fix things.

“Look at me,” murmurs Kyle, both hands now cradling your face. “Let’s get you settled. Yeah?” You nod, your small smile forced. “Come with me,” he coaxes.

He draws away and gently reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to the sofa. He instructs you to recline, grabbing a few more pillows and a blanket. Once you’re all tucked in, Kyle digs around in your kitchen searching for snacks while the kettle boils for tea.

The need to take care of you is overwhelming. Kyle’s head throbs from the incessant voice that tells him to get you calm, to make you comfortable, to listen when you’re ready. The routine is easy, and Kyle provides, executing what you need without prompting or even second guessing it.

And you open up for him. Thank him. Reach out with your hand to hold his as he sits next to you on the couch. You’re calmer now with your tears wiped away and your face no longer puffy.

“Ready to talk about it?”

Your thumb runs along the edge of your mug. “Still want to hear it?”

“You can tell me anything,” he replies automatically.

You lick your lips and inhale. “He yelled at me.” By the defeat in your tone, Kyle can immediately tell that this isn’t the first time.

Kyle stays quiet, allowing you to take the lead, to tell it however you need to.

“This time it happened after we met up with some of his friends. I called him ‘boyfriend’ and got a few odd looks. In the car he told me not to call him that. I didn’t understand so I pushed.” You glance down at your tea. “He screamed the whole ride home. Dropped me off here and wouldn’t even look at me.”

Kyle goes cold all over. You’ve been with this guy for almost six months and he’s upset that you referred to him as your ‘boyfriend?’ No. Fuck him. That’s fuck boy behavior. That’s a man who wants all the benefits without any of the commitment. You don’t deserve that. And this fucker doesn’t deserve you.

Sighing, you reach for your phone and unlock it, turning it around to present it. Kyle takes it, staring at the screen. There are texts upon texts from the guy, all of which you’ve left unanswered. It starts as an apology and quickly becomes angrier as he scrolls.

But you did answer him. It’s the very last message. You sent it just before you called Kyle.

We’re done, it reads.

And there is no answering reply. There are no pulsing bubbles to even indicate that he’s formulating a response.

Good. Fucking good.

Kyle extends his arm, returning the phone. You don’t lock it. You shut it down, tossing it onto the table. Placing the mug of tea down, you sit up, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes. There is so much he sees there, but he won’t move first even though he wants to, even though he wants you to return to his arms so he can remind you just how perfect the two of you are for each other.

But sometimes memory and the movement of it are just the length of a singular breath.

Maybe it is Kyle that moves first. Maybe it is you. In moments—seconds—you are straddling Kyle’s lap, arms laced around the back of his neck, your mouths pressed together in perfectly wanton need, a reunion that shakes every bone in his body.

You are fresh air. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Strawberries with sugar and cream. Sweet. Perfect. And only for his consumption. That is always how it should be.

Kyle’s hands slide up your body, over every curve.

“I miss you. I miss you all the time,” you confess, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.

Your admission is validation.

“I’d never tell you to not call me ‘boyfriend,’” murmurs Kyle against your mouth before going in for another kiss. “I’d want to hear you say it all the time.”

His words are a promise. An invitation.

Take me back. Please. Choose me.

Your lips part and Kyle slides his tongue inside, relearning your flavor. It is heaven dissolving on his tongue. He chases it, chases you, until you’re tugging at his clothes, wanting them gone.

It doesn’t matter that this is your sofa. If you want him, Kyle will lay himself bare, let you have whatever the fuck you want. There isn’t much to remove from you, but once the two of you are bare and you are straddling his lap, Kyle gives all his love and attention to these next moments.

Your body briefly resists, and then it melts, allowing him entrance. Kyle wraps one arm around your waist, hand splayed over your lower back to support your weight as you roll your hips up and down his cock. His other hand holds onto the side of your throat, keeping your gaze on him as you fuck yourself on him.

It’s glorious. Perfect. You are so slick and warm around him. He never forgot, but the real thing is better than memory. Better than his hand in the shower or the dark. You are moaning, light and wavering and only for him.

Your fingers dig in, nails clawing but not tearing. On the next rock of your hips, Kyle slides deep, and the sound you make nearly snaps his control. He holds fast, hand sliding to squeeze your ass as your movements become frantic and with no purposeful rhythm. You’re seeking your end, and Kyle wants you to have it. He needs you to have it.

“Come on my cock, love. For me. Yes. Like that.” You squeeze and Kyle groans loudly. “That’s it. Fucking hell, love.

You turn your face into his neck to stifle the cry that erupts from your throat as your orgasm hits you. Kyle nearly finishes himself, your pussy a vice around him, claiming him. A shudder runs through your limbs, and then you’re nipping at Kyle’s neck and jaw.

“Finish inside me,” you whimper, drawing back enough to gaze into his eyes.

Kyle doesn’t need you to say it twice.

Changing position, Kyle slides both hands to the curve of your ass. Lifting, he shifts you until he’s propped up on his knees. Your legs drape over his arms, completely open for him. You cling to him and Kyle brings your bodies together over and over again.

He will finish—he will, but Kyle needs to hear that word first.

“Are you mine?” he asks between clenched teeth. It’s the only thing keeping him steady. He’s ready to snap, ready to release.

You nod and it isn’t enough.

“Say it.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.”

Kyle grinds his pelvis against you, rubbing perfectly across your already sensitive clit. You cry out, clench around him again, but still, he needs to hear you say it.

“What am I to you?”

“Kyle,” you moan, and he laughs.

“Not that.” A little spasm runs through you and Kyle feels it reverberate all the way to his brain. “Won’t give you what you want until you say it.”

You gasp as the next thrust punches the air from your lungs. “Boyfriend,” you manage to whimper. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Fucking right.

Kyle immediately takes you to your back on the couch, thrusting a few more times before pressing taut, sealing your bodies together as his own release overcomes him.

His mouth meets yours and Kyle’s body is singing, pulsing, and bright.

You are his.

You are his.

You are his again.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria

[bruciemilf]

Now I’m thinking of Alpha Martha scooping in like “is anybody going to love and cherish that omega” and not waiting for an answer. She uses every Wayne gala to flaunt her Omega and later, pup in Carmine’s face. The only reason she hasn’t killed him yet is that seeing his rage and sad plans to get Thomas back is amusing and if it ever comes down to that Thomas deserves the honors.

Gosh, I’m starting to fall in love with that concept. Just imagine stern browed, lethally beautiful Captain Martha Kane, infamously known for her service in the military.

She reeks of bloodied snow, and sweet pomegranate with a note of petrichor. Of gunpowder, grainy and dark and rich, and of something so alluringly nameless Thomas can’t shake off.

The rumors about her hawk like gaze aren’t just rainwater.

Her look is made of storms and winter and Thomas shivers when he sees her for the first time, walking aimlessly around Gotham’s museum. His mother’s museum.

Carmine’s now, legally.

She stops just besides him, — she’s tiny, for an alpha, and he’s big for an omega, and for a moment, Thomas feels vindicated. So they had anomalies, too. Good. They earned it.

“Beautiful.”

She’s referring to the exhibit they’re admiring together. She has to be. Thomas stays quiet.

“What’s your opinion about it? I’ve visited her hundreds of times and I just can’t understand it. Not correctly, I think.”

He scoffs, but otherwise, the silence continues to expand.

Of course no Alpha understands The Good Omega.

Right above them, exposed almost proudly, imprisoned behind a thin layer of glass with rose gold framing, with delicate ivory marbled in, The Good Omega displays an omega women kneeling by her alpha.

It’s not intricate, or complex in composition. It translates well, and it’s just detailed enough.

Her mouth is sewn shut.

It’s a blood painting.

“She used to be an artist, I believe, “ Martha continues, with just the barest twitch of discomfort in her face, but she doesn’t allow her attention to shift. “I thought maybe you’d have a better perspective about it.”

“I’m not allowed to speak to you. As you well know.”

She pauses for a bit. “I apologize. You have no collar on. Your alpha didn’t pick one yet?”

He hums. “He can collar me when I’m in the ground.”

Oddly enough, that answer satisfies her. Pomegranate blossoms on his tongue.

“It’s freedom,” he continues, not really caring about customs. He already defies them daily. “It means freedom.”

Martha listens, but she huffs, half confused, half incredulous. “That doesn’t look like freedom to me. “

“That’s because you’re used to it,” He grits, turning his own gaze on her. He’s been told he smells horrible when he’s angry. He hopes this tiny, beautiful alpha chokes on it.

“Suffering is the only freedom omegas have. It forces you to look, to awknolege. There’s no exits The freedom of existing, that’s all we got.” He scoffs, not even noticing she’s clingy to every little sound.

“ Enjoy it while you can. Its going in the junkyard next week.”

“The junkyard?” She echoes, almost offended by the idea, but the casual insult. “Who’d throw away something like this, omega? It’s too valuable. “

Omega.

Thomas wants to purr and he rages, almost.

His smile is nasty, and full of teeth, and he’s grown to love how alphas cringe at the sight of it. Not this one, thought. This little beast stares at it like it’s living art.

“The same people you fight for. Thank you for your service, alpha.”

Thomas turns, not bothering to bow, excuse himself, or make a respectful exit. One good thing about being a rich omega is that he follows no rules his alpha doesn’t specify.

Nowhere did Carmine say he wasn’t allowed to ditch gorgeous alphas.

—

“You’re back rather early, Madame,” Alfred greets her with a kiss on one of her brow, soft as anything, his like tea, blueberry and dark chocolate scent hugging her deeply.

He takes a whiff of her, frowns, both in intrigue and concern. “…Why do you smell like unhappy omega?”

“Alfred,” She says, “I want to retire. Would you be a darling and contact my lawyer?”

“Oh, thank heavens. Anything else?”

Martha’s gaze bleeds blue, her thighs buzzing with the sneer of Thomas’ anger still, “Can you ask him if I can legally kidnap a taken omega?”

[cherryblossombankai]

Summary: Years after the final battle, a retired Endeavor moves out of the city. You are working as his new housekeeper, and you begin teasing feelings from him that he didn't expect. Word Count: 5,025 Warnings: lots of talk about feelings, enji and rei talk about the past, all around there's some mention of past abuse and such, enji has a prosthetic arm, unprotected sex, smut with feelings (lots and lots of feelings), fem!reader, she/her pronouns for the reader, age gap relationship (reader is implied to be the same age as Fuyumi) Tag Lists: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet, @hinomasumi, @renjis-wife

The dream had never changed. Deep down Enji knew his family would never truly be happy with his presence. He had tried to shake off that feeling for Fuyumi’s sake at least. Of all in the Todoroki family, she was the only one who seemed at peace with fate forcing them all together again. All she’d ever wanted was a happy family, but this was not a happy family. It never was, and it never would be. 

When Rei asked for a divorce, Enji didn’t fight her on it. He’d been living alone in the old house with the ghosts of the past for the better part of two years anyway, and she deserved a chance to be with someone good. Someone who would see her gentle strength for what it is, and savor her. The last time she’d come by to make sure he had food, he’d finally gotten up the nerve to put a stop to that as well. 

“Do you come here because you want to or because you feel you must?” he asked her, his voice gentle despite the raspiness it had acquired. Gentleness, something he never imagined himself practicing. 

“Somewhere in between, I suppose,” her voice was unsteady. 

“I don’t want you to tie yourself to me any more than you want to. I have more than enough money to hire help,” he sits back against his chair and stretches out his legs. They’re still sore and stiff, but he can stand on his own again, but he still uses a cane sometimes. “You should be using this time to do things you want to do. You shouldn’t worry about me.” 

Rei sits down beside him. “A man asked me out,” she confessed with a flush on her cheeks. “I suppose it’s difficult to imagine not being married anymore. I know the divorce was my idea but—”

He doesn’t have to hear the rest to know where she’s going with this. She’s worried if it was the right choice. Despite everything she’s worried about if he will be okay when she moves on. More than anything, she’s worried about stepping forward with a new relationship.

“Is he good to you?” Enji asks. 

“Y-yes, he’s very nice. We met at the library.” 

“That’s good. Do the kids know?” 

“No, I wanted to make sure you were truly okay with this before things progressed.” 

“Rei, all I want is for you to be happy.” 

“I am happy,” she admits sheepishly. 

She feels guilty to an extent. Guilt is an emotion Rei has never quite been able to get over but she has slowly learned not to misplace it anymore. So much of what went wrong was out of her hands, or she’d done her best but living with Enji was certainly living with an unstoppable force. There had been a brief moment in time when it felt like they were at peace, but it hadn’t lasted long. It almost feels like she just imagined things were better than they were. But she remembered the flush on her cheeks the first time he kissed her deeply and held his face in her hands so delicately. She remembers how he fumbled with the clasps on her lingerie on their wedding night then apologized when she winced the first time they were together. 

It seemed like almost overnight the gentle cradling of his hands turned into harsh slaps. The gaze that seemed concerned about hurting her when they were intimate became fierce with determination and rage. It had all fallen apart so quickly, and there was no way to pull it back together. It had taken him quite literally being beaten within an inch of his life for him to see the error of his ways. Still, they’d all paid the price. 

“You should find some way to be happy too,” Rei breaks the silence. “I know you think you deserve to be alone forever atoning, and maybe you do, but everyone who loves you wants to see you happy.” 

Enji furrows his brow, “No, I don’t deserve—” 

“Being miserable for the rest of your life won’t change the past,” she sighs softly. “And over the last few years, we’ve all seen the change in you. Even Natsuo asks about you sometimes.” 

“I have been thinking about leaving the city,” he admits quietly. “This house is much too big for me, and I just…I want quiet.” 

“I think that sounds nice,” she smiles softly. 

“I found a little place,” he fumbles through his pockets for his cell phone. “Well, Keigo —Hawks— found it for me,” he explains as he pulls up the house listing. 

 Rei takes the phone from him and looks it over. The house is a small two-bedroom in a tiny town known for its therapeutic hot springs, which are conveniently within walking distance of the house. She can see why Keigo would consider it for Enji.

“It looks nice,” she says as she flips through the photos. “Enough room for you and…Someone special.” 

Enji snorts softly, “Ah yes because everyone is on the market for a broken-down hero.” 

“Why not? You’re still handsome,” Rei giggles. “You could meet someone.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

The weeks pass slowly. With Keigo’s help, Enji closes on the house. Over dinner he’d announced to Shoto and Fuyumi he was moving out of the city. He had texted Natsuo as well to let him know, but he didn’t expect an answer. He just didn’t want Natsuo to feel neglected anymore. He wants Natsuo to know that he’s always on Enji’s mind just like the rest of the children. He’d gone to the hospital to visit Touya as well and tell him the news, and also assure him he’d still be coming to visit him. Touya, who made a miraculous recovery due to some uncovered research from Garaki’s lab, had taken the news worse than Shoto or Fuyumi had. 

“You’re running from me?” Touya had croaked, his voice just starting to recover. 

“No, nothing like that Touya.” Enji’s cane taps across the floor as he comes closer to the glass looking into Touya’s chamber. 

It seemed like yesterday Touya was locked in a tank, but now he’s able to have a proper bed. His skin is growing back slowly due to the regeneration cells used in his treatment. The doctors said within a couple of years he’d be healed, albeit with some scarring.

Enji places his hand on the glass, “Perhaps when you’re ready, you could come live with me.” 

“You’d want that?” Touya looks up at him, tears brimming in his blue eyes. 

“I’d love that,” Enji smiles softly. 

Touya comes to the glass and places his hand over Enji’s. “Save a room for me, yeah?” 

“Always.” 

With all of that settled, the day came for him to move. He was a little nervous. Keigo and Shoto, to his surprise, came to help him move. Fuyumi did as well, but she spent a lot more time worrying about him being far away. No matter how many times he reminds her that he’s only a short train ride away, close enough for him to come to the city every day if he wants, she still worries about him being lonely. 

“I know how you are,” she says as she follows the guys outside as they load the moving van. “You’re liable to just lock yourself in the house and not talk to anyone for days.” 

“Well, don’t worry too much about that. I hired a housekeeper,” Keigo speaks up. 

“You did what?” Enji frowns. 

“Yeah, she’s a real nice girl.” 

“Oh! That sounds nice,” Fuyumi grins. She and Keigo share knowing looks that Enji picks up on, but decides not to say more. The last thing he wants to do is encourage this behavior. 

Once the moving van is packed up, Shoto and Fuyumi offer to drive it to the new house. Enji rides in the car with his driver. 

You’re already at the house, using the key Keigo had given you to let yourself in. He had told you that you would be working for Endeavor when you were hired. Many of the housekeepers he’d interviewed walked out the moment he revealed the identity of the client, but you had remained level-headed. 

“He is still trying to atone for his mistakes,” Keigo had told you. 

“He helped save the world,” you smile kindly. Keigo was pleased you remembered that. “I suppose the least I can do is keep the house clean and mind my own business.” 

He’d hired you on the spot, and now you find yourself getting the house ready for him to move. Keigo had even sent you some money to go buy some basics for the house. You may or may not have taken some liberties. You were putting together a bouquet on the porch when the moving van pulls up and is followed soon after by the car. 

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath. You hadn’t expected him to be here today. You stand up quickly with the flowers in your hand. 

You see Shoto and Fuyumi first, they hop out of the moving van. You wave to them, noticing how Shoto seems a little shy when he waves back. Fuyumi smiles softly and walks up to introduce herself. 

“I’m the housekeeper,” you explain after introducing yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you! It’s good to know someone will be around to help him and stuff,” Fuyumi sighs happily. 

For some reason, her attitude has you expecting a feeble old man to emerge from the black car. Instead, the man who emerges is instantly recognizable as a former number-one hero. He’s tall and still broad as though he works to keep in shape despite his forced retirement. The only hint of his injuries is his cane and the few scars he has on his face. 

“Hello, Todoroki-san!” you smile softly as you come down the steps to introduce yourself to him. He greets you with a kind smile before looking at the flowers clutched to your chest. 

“Are those for me?” he asks uncertainly. 

“Oh! Uhm…Yes!” you lie and hold out the unfinished bouquet. 

He chuckles softly as he takes the flowers and blushes. He’s never been gifted flowers before. It makes his heart flutter in a way he didn’t expect. “Thank you.” 

“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been cleaning inside to get everything ready for you. Takami-san gave me some money to buy some things for the house.” 

“I see,” Enji sighs softly. Of course, Keigo would make sure you take on the role of a lady of the house. He feels embarrassed at the idea of Keigo putting in so much effort just to hook him up with someone. 

“I bought a few groceries, and of course, some cleaning supplies and Takami-san said you didn’t have much for decor so—” 

When Enji opens the door to his new house, it almost looks as though you’ve moved in. It’s what Keigo had told you to do, start some decorating to make it feel like a home. Enji notices the pretty rugs and floral tapestries you have on the walls. He looks down at you, raising his eyebrow. 

“I can take it down if you don’t like it,” you blush. 

“It looks nice!” Fuyumi says as she walks in behind the two of you. 

“Heh, it’s pretty,” Shoto smirks and playfully nudges his dad. 

“It’s fine,” Enji groans before taking the box Shoto is carrying from him. 

“Would any of you like some tea?” you offer, hoping to break the ice. You feel a little silly now; already being here when he arrived, having decorating…It didn’t matter if Keigo encouraged you to do it, you feel foolish. 

“Tea would be nice,” Fuyumi says as she follows you in the kitchen. Shoto goes out to get more of the boxes out of the moving van. 

“Todoroki-san, would you like some too?” you ask. You can’t help blushing when you realize he’s putting your flowers in some water. 

“That’d be nice, thank you,” he responds. 

While you’re making the tea in the kitchen, he sets the flower vase on the kitchen table. Then he and Fuyumi go to look around the house. He notices right away how much effort you’ve already put into it. Everything is spotless and there’s a few touches here and there that show you’ve tried to make it more comfortable. 

“She seems nice,” Fuyumi comments to him as they step onto the back porch to look around at the garden. 

“She does,” Enji agrees nonchalantly. 

“Very pretty,” she adds. 

“Oh, want her number?” Enji offers, wholeheartedly sincere in his words. Ever since Fuyumi came out to him, he’s been doing his best to be as supportive as possible. 

“Not exactly what I was thinking,” Fuyumi giggles. She looks in through the door to make sure you’re not close by. “I was thinking you should ask her out.” 

“You have to be kidding me! She’s the same age as my children!” 

“So? If she likes you and stuff,” Fuyumi giggles. 

“Absolutely not!” he insists.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fuyumi giggles. She leans against the door frame as Enji looks at the potted plants you placed out. “It’s a good thing she decorated. You wouldn’t have thought to do it.” 

“She could’ve waited until I asked,” he grumbles under his breath. 

“Well, your feathered friend is pretty persuasive,” Fuyumi reminds him. 

Within a few hours, it’s only the two of you in the house. You’re busy unpacking boxes when he sees everyone off. His body is a little achy, as it always is after a full day of activity. He wishes he still had his youth some days, but then again he’s grateful for the clarity he’s found in his age. 

“You should rest,” he says softly as he walks into the living room where you’re fussing with the curtains. You’re not quite tall enough to get the rod on the hook. With ease, he reaches over you and fastens the hook. You smile up at him before straightening the curtains. 

“I should at least make your bed before I leave,” you insist. 

“No, really, that’s not necessary.” 

You giggle as you look up at him, “Sure it is! Where will you sleep if I don’t?”

“I’m capable of making my own bed,” Enji blushes and steps away.  

“Yeah, but I get paid to make your bed,” you argue playfully. 

He rolls his eyes at you, “Fine, fine. But then I want you to go home and I don’t want you coming in too early.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t overwork myself,” you brush past him and make your way to the bedroom. 

He follows you, although he’s not sure why. He leans against the door frame and watches you dig the sheets out of the box Fuyumi had helpfully labeled ‘linens’ and begin making the bed. The thought suddenly crept up on him that you might be the first woman to be in his room in years. He turns away quickly and walks away. 

You notice him stomping off, but of course you don’t know why. You hum softly as you make the bed then throw the pillows on it. 

“Todoroki-san, should I make you something to eat before I leave?” you ask as you breeze into the kitchen where he’d been taking solace from what your presence was starting to do to him. 

“N-no,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Call me Enji! You don’t have to use honorifics.” 

“Oh,” you blush deeply. You’d spent all day wondering if you should’ve called him Endeavor-sama or Todoroki-san and now suddenly he’s permitting you to call him by first name. Yet he won’t turn to look at you and he seems so damn eager to get out of your presence. You clear your throat and when he turns around, you’re bowing at the waist. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.” 

Enji feels like he’s going to melt. He shakes his head and comes closer to you, placing one hand on your shoulder to guide you to stand straight again. 

“You haven’t,” he assures you softly. “I’m sorry…I didn’t expect…you.” 

“Oh? Did Takami-san not tell you I was going to be here?” you blush. “Did you not want a housekeeper? I’m so sorry! I must have seemed crazy all day—” 

“No! No, listen it’s fine. I’m glad you’re here to help me,” he lets out a sigh. “I just meant you’re very…Uhm…” His words fail him completely. Pretty? Yeah, sure you’re quite pretty but he can’t tell you that. Nor can he tell you that it’s been ages since he was close to a woman besides Fuyumi and Rei, one of which was his daughter and the other his now ex-wife who he never deserved to be close to in the first place. “Fuck,” he growls and turns away again. 

“How about tomorrow we can start over?” you suggest shyly. 

“Start over?” 

“Yeah,” you come closer to him and place your hand on his back. “It’ll be good.” 

“Alright, that sounds good,” he agrees. 

True to your word, the next morning you come into the house with a fresh smile. You don’t even say anything about the awkwardness from the day before. You make cheerful morning conversation, and as Enji sits at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and watching you cook, he can’t help wondering if anyone in his family was ever this content in his presence. Does he deserve this feeling now? Maybe he’s a desperate old fool, but he admires you. You’re sweet and funny, even towards him. You aren’t graceful all the time, but you are confident. Even when you mess up, you giggle through it in a way he’d never be able to imagine. 

As the days go on, he becomes even more of a fool for you. He can’t help it. 

He finds himself at the grocery store and passing the flower section, he considers buying you some. He remembers you had a bunch of daisies in the house and he realizes they must be your favorite. He picks up a bouquet of them, but then changes his mind at the register only to then change his mind right before paying. 

He comes home to the sight of you sweeping off the front porch. You were wearing a pair of corduroy overalls that hugged your curves in a way that had made him bite his lip when you first arrived this morning. He notices your bare feet. This morning your hair had been down, but now you have it pulled into a messy updo. He’s always liked long hair. Rei had grown her hair out as his insistence, but he’d been thrilled when she cut it off after their divorce. She was healing. 

“How was the grocery shopping?” you ask as he comes up the steps. 

“Good,” he grumbles and shoves the flowers at you. His cheeks are flaming red, and he doesn’t look you in the eyes. 

“For me?” you giggle. 

“Y-yeah, take them home,” he rushes past you. 

You watch him go into the house, and you smile softly to yourself before going into the kitchen behind him. He’s putting away the groceries when you find a vase to put your flowers in. 

“My roommates would probably just knock them over, so I think I’ll keep them here,” you explain as you set the flowers on the counter. 

“Roommates?” he asks. Although you’d talked a lot about yourself, you’d never mentioned roommates. You also never mentioned a boyfriend or girlfriend. 

“Oh, yeah. I had to get some roommates to help cover the bills,” you shrug. 

“Is Keigo not paying you enough?” he asks and he’s already fishing into his pocket for his checkbook. 

“He’s paying me plenty,” you insist. 

“How much do you need?” he opens the checkbook and places it on the counter. 

“Really, it’s okay!” 

“Just tell me,” he presses on. 

“Enji, stop!” you snap. His eyes come to meet yours. He can see right away that you regretted taking such a tone with him, and he has to fight down his own pride wanting to lash back out. 

“I was trying to help,” he growls softly.

“I know, but it’s fine,” you insist. “Lots of people my age have to have roommates. We’re not all heroes making bank.” 

He watches the way you force a sad smile before turning away. It had been his desire only to take care of you, but of course, he always pushes too hard and breaks the things dear to him. 

The rest of the day is quiet, and for the first time in months, you don’t stick around for dinner.

He’d been shocked the first day you called out of work. You told him you weren’t feeling well, and just needed to rest. He’d been sure to keep up with all your chores for you so that you wouldn’t be overburdened when you returned. But then you called in for a second time, then a third. 

It was almost a week before you finally showed yourself again. This time you weren’t smiley and happy like before. Your brows were furrowed as he sat down at the kitchen table in front of you. You’re staring into your coffee trying to get up the nerve to slide the envelope across the table to him. 

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing to the little cream envelope. 

“It’s…My two weeks notice.” 

“Your what?” his eyes widen and he wants to pretend he’s not hearing this. Fuck, you were the only thing that made him want to get out of bed most mornings. 

“I just think maybe I shouldn’t work for you anymore, Todoroki-san.” 

“Why?” he feels like his chest is being ripped open. “Because of the money thing? I am sorry about that! I didn’t mean to…” 

“It’s not that,” you sniffle back some tears. “It’s really not that.” 

“I see,” he looks miserable. “Is it me? Did I offend you?” 

“No! No, nothing like that.” 

His hands are shaking as he tries to find something, anything to make you stay. He doesn’t want to lose you. Just thinking that you would walk out that door today, and he would never see you again, he felt like dying. 

“Don’t go,” he pleads. His pride be damned. 

Little did Enji know, you were leaving because you’d fallen for him. It happened so suddenly that you hadn’t even realized it. Everything had just fallen into place, and every time you came to work it felt more like coming home. All of his little quiet gestures, like buying you flowers and making sure to keep your favorite tea around even though you only told him once which one you liked best, had made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. When he’d offered you a check, you’d felt like a commodity instead. It had made you wonder if he only did nice things to keep you around. But now…He’s pleading. You never thought you’d hear Endeavor plead. 

“I just think it’s for the best,” you whisper before standing up. You grab your purse to leave before you lose your nerve.

Enji rushes to his feet. The kitchen table is pushed aside as it just becomes an obstacle keeping him from you. The effort of pushing it sends a sharp pain through his back. At the same time, he takes his first quick steps towards you, he falls to his knees from the nerves in his back searing with pain. Still, his hands reach for you, grabbing at your skirt. He’s fought through worse pain than this. 

“Don’t go, please don’t go. I’ve been alone…For so fucking long,” he pleads, not caring how foolish he looks. “I know I’m a stupid man. I’ve made mistakes, and I fucked up because I couldn’t just tell you…How I feel…” 

“Enji, let me help you up,” you whimper as you try to pry his hands off your skirt. He wraps his arms around your legs instead. 

“Don’t go,” he pants softly and he nuzzles his face against your thighs. “Stay with me, just…Stay!” 

“Enji,” your hands are gentle in his hair as you lower yourself onto his lap. You kiss him softly on the cheek before hugging him tight, burying your face in his chest. “I…I love you…” 

“Oh…oh…” he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you against his body. His nose is in your hair, taking in your scent and his hands are kneading at your sides. “My precious girl…” he gently kisses you. The taste of your lips makes his blood run hot, and you can feel the heat rising on his skin. 

Everything else is forgotten now. He may not have told you he loves you, but every touch proves it. The way his tongue is slow and tentative against yours, his hands are gentle yet insistent as he touches you. He keeps your body pressed close to his, not wanting to part even a little from you. Even his moans, the first time you grind against him, are so incredibly desperate. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks between kisses. 

You nod eagerly and he pushes up your skirt. His thick fingers brush against the wet spot on your panties, making you moan softly for him. Months of shy smiles and lingering touches culminated into this hunger neither of you can contain any longer. 

He pushes your panties aside carefully and begins rubbing your slit carefully. His hands are a little shaky, it’s been so long since he’s done anything like this. Already his mind his in a daze.

“Is this good?” he asks. 

“Y-yes,” you pant softly and spread your legs a little wider for him. 

Every moan he manages to draw out from your body makes his cock twitch in his jeans. The outline of his cock is finished off with a thick, sticky splotch of precum on leaking through. He feels needy, feral even. Your walls are hot on his fingers, making him hunger even more to be inside of you. 

“I need you,” he growls as he pulls away from your kiss. 

He can’t be bothered to take the time to do this properly. He needs you now, and he can tell by the look in your eyes that you need him too. 

“I need you too,” you whisper. 

He pushes you against the kitchen cabinet, only making space enough between your bodies for him to open his pants and push them just past his ass. Then, he’s hovering over you once more, guiding your legs around his waist. You only get the quickest glimpse of his cock and the dark red patch of hair at the base before he’s pinning you against the cabinet and pushing into you carefully. Your arms wrap around his waist and your hands rest on his ass. 

“F-fuck,” you whine as his girth stretches you past anything you’ve felt before. He knows he’s big, huge even, and that’s why he’s going slow despite every instinct to slam into you. 

“You feel fucking amazing,” he groans softly. 

He clings to your body like he never wants to let you go. He works his way into your warm walls and pauses so you can both acclimate to the feeling once he’s bottomed out. 

By the time he starts his pace, he’s rutting into you like a man gone wild. His face his buried against your chest, his mouth drooling and biting at your tits through your thin shirt. He loved that you didn’t wear a bra, he had noticed it from day one but didn’t want to be a pervert. Now he’s leaving saliva stains right on your shirt from biting at your nipples. 

“You’re fucking perfect, so perfect,” he pants as he fucks you. “Love you, love you, love you…” he emphasizes every declaration of love with a deep thrust. 

You can’t even make a coherent thought come out of your mouth. You can only moan and cry his name in blazes of ecstasy. It’s music to his ears, knowing he’s managing to bring you to this state. You don’t even manage to warn him when you cum on his cock. The pleasure takes over your senses completely. He can only tell by the way you grind against him and your walls clench so tight around his cock that you’ve reached your peak. His nails dig into the meat of your thighs as he feels himself reaching his climax. 

“Shit shit shit,” he grunts. “Do I…fuck…pull out?” 

Your hands grip tighter on his ass, “No, please!” 

His eyes roll back in his head as he quickens his pace. His hips snap frantically, and he shakes when he reaches his peak. You’re filled and then some with his seed. It’s dripping out even as he continues to fuck it into you. 

Finally, he slows himself to a stop. You’re limp and weak in his arms. Your head rests on his shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” he asks as he rubs your back. 

“Mhm,” you hum sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed. 

He carefully holds onto you as he stands. He manages to hold you with one arm long enough to pull his pants up. They hang loosely from his waist as he carries you to the bedroom and gently lays you down. 

“Rest,” he whispers and kisses you quickly. “Let me take care of you.” 

“Will we do it again?” you ask as you watch him dig through his drawers for a shirt to dress you in. He didn’t realize until now that he’d ripped your clothes. 

“You don’t regret it?” he asks as he carefully undresses you only to slip a black sweatshirt onto your body. It’s big on you, and he loves the sight of you in his clothes. 

“Not at all,” you smile softly. 

“Then, we’ll do it again,” he promises. “Next time, I’ll go slow. I’ll make love to you like you deserve.” 

“Mm, sounds good,” you giggle as you snuggle up on the bed. “Nap first though.” 

“Yes, yes, nap first,” he agrees.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Bill Dickey SFW Alphabet

This is more so for the TV pilot version and not so much for the comic version. I LOVED it the moment i saw it and i’m so disappointed it was never picked up 😭 but at least we’re able to make our own content for it 🤷‍♀️

Please just remember that this is my interpretation, we can agree on some things and disagree on others, but that’s ok! If my interpretation isn’t for you then i encourage you to find content that works more for you and your interpretation. 💋

A- Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they like to show affection?)

- He is surprisingly more affectionate than some might think. Especially when he’s around the guys or other people in general. He likes being able to show you off like the precious gem you are. He considers you his most valuable collectible, though you have to tell him quite often to stop comparing you to objects. He likes to be able to have his hand on you at all times, wether it’s holding yours, around your waist, or placed gently onto your leg.

B- Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

- Absolutely terrible. It would go one of two ways: 1- He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from being the raging misogynist that he is, constantly questioning your knowledge of everything you interact with. You would barely be able to get any words into a conversation without him cutting you off. Or, 2- He’d be so invested in the fact that a girl wanted to spend time with him that he’d try way too hard to make himself seem like the perfect guy. Nonstop staring, especially at your chest or thighs, opening every door and pulling out every chair, but he would also try to keep any other guy from getting close to you. He’d even go as far as staring down the cashier at the movies for looking at you too long.

C- Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

- He loves getting to cuddle, but only when it’s just the two of you. He’ll show you off all he likes, but he only likes to cuddle when he knows you won’t be bothered. It’s something he wants to be able to enjoy for as long as possible, being held close by a hot girl is something he can only imagine, why would he want it to end?

D- Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, etc.)

- He wants to, but children are out of the question entirely. He’d absolutely love to get married one day, specifically so he can tell people he’s not only married, but he’s married to an absolute dime. However, he doesn’t want anything to do with children. He thinks they’re too messy, too loud, too much responsibility, and he’ll have to constantly keep watch of his collectibles around them.

E- Ending (If they had to break up with their partner how would they do it?)

- If he did ever break up with you, it would be an immediate regret. You’re quite literally the only girl who’s ever wanted him and he wants to make sure it stays that way.

F- Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

- He absolutely wants to get married, just as long as it’s to you. If he had it his way, your first date would’ve been at a wedding chapel, but realistically he wouldn’t put a specific date on it. He wants to make sure you can live together comfortably first, or at least until you’re able to get out of your parents places.

G- Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally)

- Not as gentle as you’d like him to be, but he’s learning. When he gets angry, rarely ever at you, he just needs a minute to get all his anger out before he apologizes and tries to word it in a way where you’d be able to understand why he’s so pissed off that Josh insisted on borrowing one of his comics for a day longer than planned.

H- Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

- He enjoys getting them, especially when he’s pulled in tight and held close to your chest. He says it’s comforting, but you know the real reason why he enjoys it. When he hugs you he tries his hardest not to squeeze you too tight, but he’s just happy he’s able to get close enough to a girl to do it.

I- I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

- First day. You’d get through one date, converse over your shared interests, and as soon as you start yapping on and on about your favorite things he’s smitten. It feels nice to know that a girl, especially a hot girl, can be as obsessed with something as much as he is. When he says it for real he nearly cries when you say it back. He didn’t know that someone could find him likable enough to love.

J- Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

- Insanely jealous. It’s not to the point where it’s overbearing, but he will shoot dirty looks at cashiers if your transaction takes longer than normal or will immediately assume a guys normal common decency towards you is their attempt to take you away from him. He never blames you, it’s always the other guys who are trying to get you all for themselves.

K- Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

- Bill has absolutely no preference for when or where you want to kiss him. It’s only when he’s in front of his friends that he wants you to tone it down a little. He just doesn’t want them to use it for their own perverse imaginations. His kisses always start out gentle but he just can’t help himself with you sometimes. If his lips can reach it, you’ll get a kiss there.

L- Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

- Absolutely awful. He doesn’t like children, he finds them to be too annoying, and he can never see himself having any in the future. They’d want to get their grubby little hands all over his still boxed action figures and he’s never going to let that happen.

M- Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

- Surprisingly enough he does quite well in the morning. He has routines that does morning and night, though sometimes his ‘mornings’ are closer to 11 AM. On weekends he’ll lay in bed for a while, but other than that he’s up earlier than you for the most part. He just doesn’t want to wake you because he’s too busy focusing on the fact that there’s a girl asleep in his bed.

N- Night (How are nights spent with them?)

- He never goes to bed earlier than midnight, and that’s on a good day. How nights are usually spent in the basement with the guys doing their normal club things, but when he comes upstairs after they all leave he wants to get into bed with you as soon as possible. Most of the time you have to remind him to brush his teeth and take off his glasses before he gets into bed, but it’s only because he’s so eager to get you to lay with him and watch one of the Star Wars movies for the millionth time.

O- Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or do they open up slowly?)

- He’d be very open with the things that are easy to read about him. He’ll go on and on about his interests, telling you every minor detail about every one of them as if theres going to be a test about it as soon as the conversation is over. It would take about a month, give or take, before he actually starts telling you about his own personal life. He needed to make sure you weren’t dating him on a bet before he gets too comfortable.

P- Patience (How easily angered are they?)

- He’s angered pretty easily but it’s never at you. You know that he can get into heated arguments pretty often with the guys, you’re used to hearing them scream at one another every time they’re together, but if he ever yells at you it’s only when he’s relaying the arguments from earlier on.

Q- Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they mention every little detail in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

- He’d memorize everything about you like it’s his job. He can remember the most minute detail of a horror movie he saw once years ago and it’ll still come back to him like he watched it five minutes ago. He likes being able to know everything about you, especially when he sees how giddy you get when he remembers the little things. He sometimes has to keep himself from pointing things out when he’s with the guys and saying “(y/n) would like that!”

R- Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

- When he first saw you. That moment replays in his head over and over again every time he thinks about you. Of course he gets some of the details mixed up, sometimes when he thinks about it he’ll imagine it as if you were a princess and he was a knight that was so captivated by your beauty, or an alien priestess who warped his mind to make him become obsessed with you. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

S- Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

- He’s not necessarily overprotective, but he’s definitely a little bit possessive, he does question a lot of the other guys that are around you. He says that since he knows how they think, he knows how they act, and he doesn’t like it when the other guys in the comic shops or the movie theaters imagine you in all the ways that he likes to. He never thinks you’re doing anything to intentionally make these guys want you, it’s not your fault that you’re an absolute smoke show. He likes to always be around, just in case someone tries something with you.

T- Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

- At first he wouldn’t be the absolute best at remembering things like that, he’s just not used to it. In order to remember better he keeps lists of everything important: your birthday, anniversary, and he even has things like your favorite color, movie, restaurant and order. He tries his hardest with the little money he has, but he’ll always pick up something for you whenever he sees you. Plus, he knows that whenever he gets you something, he’ll always get something in return.

U- Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

- A smaller list would be his good habits. He’s gotten better overtime, especially when you tell him he’s not getting any until he does what you say. And in those cases, he does it happily. If you tell him to shower, he does it. If you tell him to clean, he does it. It’s just a little more difficult to get him to do these things on its own. The most difficult thing about him is his constant need for new things for his various collections, though you were able to find a compromise when you agreed that every time he bought something, he had to get something for you too.

V- Vanity (How concerned are they with their appearance?)

- Not very, though when it comes to specific occasions he makes sure to really focus on himself and how he might be perceived. For the most part, he’ll shower at least two to three times a week, he doesn’t mind if his hair gets greasy but when it gets unruly it becomes a problem. His routines make sure he brushes his teeth at least once a day and he never leaves the house without making sure he doesn’t look a complete mess. He’ll rewear clothes until they either smell or have a noticeable stain, or if he runs out of clean clothes entirely.

W- Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

- Absolutely. He can’t imagine life before you, and any time he can recall times before then he was in misery. He still gets into physical fights with the guys, and he still goes out and causes disturbances in all his local spots, but now he gets to do all those things with a girlfriend. One who listens to him and cares about him, and it’s nice to know that even with all his flaws he’s still got you.

X- Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

- He wants you to sit in with the club so badly, and it’s not like you’ve never been around them before, but he knows that if you’re around them for an extended period of time he knows where their minds might wander. He’s shown you things like all the movies and games and books they talk about, but there’s no possible way he can have you be around the guys for more than an hour.

Y- Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

- Interestingly enough, he would hate having someone that does everything he says. He wouldn’t want to have someone listen to everything he says and does anything he asks. Though he’ll never admit it, he likes having someone challenge him and tell him what to do.

Z- Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

- He always needs something on when he sleeps, wether it’s a TV show or a movie, he needs something for background noise. It’s a lot easier to sleep with nothing on when you’re over, he says it’s because it’s comforting to have another person there, but even when you’re over he insists on putting on a movie to fall asleep to.

[soodoonimin]

Logan Howlett and animal instincts (or in other words my long winded analysis of a comic book character)

So before I start, just know that I have read a lot of comics but I don't know everything. I can take notes all day long but I have a bad memory and comics are confusing so please be nice and enjoy, this took a lot of effort to put together, it’s mostly my thoughts on the character as I read the the comic books. The movie character is a lot different and I will also probably do something like this for movie Logan as well (though it will be significantly shorter).

Also there are some pictures that have blood and body horror so beware.

What does it mean to be human? Well that's a question we as humans have been trying to answer since we could think to ask it and ever since then we've never been able to give a fully conclusive answer. Why? you may ask, well because think about it like this, the traits we most often associate with humanity (higher thinking, creativity, empathy, and love) may not and some times do not always exists solely within us when applied to fiction, we write whole stories about how robots can be human too, how aliens can be human etc etc as long as they have these traits (more or less) AND LOOK I'm not going to get into a whole philosophical discussion about the nature of humanity on Tumblr.com but I do want to take a second to talk about how those traits are applied to Logan and how he has to fight to prove his humanity.

So mutants are an oppressed people but being a mutant isn't always the same for everyone. You can be a mutant like Rouge who can kill people with a single touch or mutant like Storm who can bend the weather to your will (the most obvious example). You can be a mutant like Jean with no obvious physical signs of your mutation or you can be a mutant like Kurt, where 9/10 people think you’re a demon of some kind.

But what happens when you're a mutant like Logan Howlett? I mean you look human enough, sure you're a little more hairy than most people, you have fangs, you smell, and oh yeah the claws but those are retractable so overall....you're just a normal person right? Nothing you can’t hide, right? Yeah, for the most part, yeah. But there are a couple of other things about you that someone might not know from looking at you, you have an extraordinary healing factor, you have almost animal like senses and when you are pushed to your absolute brink you go into a monstrous like a rage and kill everything in sight.

For every gift Logan was born with theres a very real curse attached to each one.

Healing Factor: Logan still feels pain, the healing factor isn’t just limited to his body but it also messes with his memories, and more importantly he’s lived a very long life. In The End comic and Old Man Logan comic etc, when he’s out lived most of the world, he’s miserable.

Keen senses: Seems great, until they’re exploited, imagine what being able to smell and see and hear that well all the time without relief must be like. Imagine not being able to tell when someone is going to die? Or when they’re lying or when they haven’t showered etc. sure you might get used to it like you might get used to pain but that doesn’t make it pleasant.

Claws: Need to really touch on this one? Aside from the obvious please remember that Logan’s claws aren’t in his knuckles but in his fucking forearms so when using them he needs to make an effort to direct them or….

Berserker rage: great to get you out of a pinch but you can’t control it. (We’ll talk more about this later)

Most people don’t see these very real downsides of Logan’s mutation, they just see a small, angry guy, who’s good at fighting and can take a hit better than almost anyone.

Here’s what worse, a lot of people (X-men included) don't see, they don't all the ways Logan hates himself (and those who do don’t see the depths of that hate he has for himself). They don't see the scared little boy whose father was killed in front of him. They don't see that little boy who killed his father's murderer and was abandoned by all but one person for one person (Rose). They don't see the young man who accidentally killed his first love while trying to protect her from his brother. They don't see the man who lived a relatively miserable life being plucked up by a group of people who only saw him as something to be experimented on. They don’t see the man who believes that if he loves someone he's destine to hurt them in one way or another because he has multiple times over (even if it wasn’t always his fault). They don’t see that for all the times that they call Logan an animal, he already believes them and he’s called himself worse many times over.

(Deep down he truly believes he deserves be to alone, especially in death. That would be his “deserved” hell. Eternal loneliness.)

Which is funny because I think Logan goes back and forth in deciding on whether or not he has any humanity in him in the first place. See in the Black, White and Blood comic, the FIRST story told in this series, is an account of Logan’s time at Weapon X and we get this…interaction:

Pourquoi tu me fais ça?///Why are you doing this to me? This "monster" asks him this on the cusp of death....

(Moments during the Weapon X program, be they real memories or not, when Logan’s humanity shone through)

And THIS almost immediately snaps him out of mind control he's under going. I don't know if he understood the words per say but I think even if he didn't, he still understood the plea on a human level. Because it wasn’t Weapon X who responded, it wasn’t the berserker, or Wolverine. It was Logan Howlett. It was a moment of humanity that broke the conditioning he’d been put through that answered that plea and stopped him. Because if you think about it, if these two memories actually are real, that means that Logan recognized this plea as the same one gave to the scientists. Now determining what did or didn't happen during the Weapon X program is difficult to parse out because they implanted false memories. BUT regardless of that there was always a part of him that held onto his humanity. But I think that just adds to the horror of it all. Imagine not being able to know what memories are yours and which ones are not? So let me ask, even if those memories are “false” does that make them any less real? Does that mean that Logan suffered any less under their stewardship? He was still kidnapped, he was still experimented on, still tortured. He still had the adimantium grafted onto his bones, he was still made into a living puppet and was still seen as nothing more than a weapon, an animal, a monster by the very people who were doing all of this to him and in some respects they are the reason he is seen as a monster by others.

At the end of that comic (where he was momentarily snapped out of his conditioning) he states that no his humanity wasn’t stolen from him but he still lives with that guilt of everything he can’t remember and the things he can remember are unreliable.

I know a lot of people haven’t read the comics so I’m not trying to do annoying about it BUT if you get the opportunity to PLEASE go read The Weapon X comic (by Berry Windsor-Smith) & Wolverine’s first limited series run (by Chris Claremont).

I specifically say that second one because I think the story that’s told is probably one of the more interesting told for Logan because of the relationship he has with Yukio and Mariko. I’m not going to get too deep into it because I really think you should read it for yourself but the basic outline of it is that where Mariko loves the man, Yukio loves the “monster”. And when he’s initially trying to court Mariko it’s his attempts to in a sense to court humanity but he fails and when he turns to Yukio. And for her part it’s not just as simple as her loving the “monster” but more than she goads it out of him, for thematic reasons and plot reasons. But needless to say, they both love Logan but they both love an incomplete version of him. (It’s a really good story and it’s literally what sold me on the idea of reading through any of the older comics.)

Anyway, (in the comics and movies especially) some people solely see him as a man with an uncontrollable side that they’d run from at the first sign of aggression and others only want that animalistic side and don’t love the man that Logan is. The thing is, he is both of those things. Think about it like this. As humans we like to think ourselves above the food chain, we like to think of ourselves as *more* than animals. And sure we’re definitely one of the most successful species of animals on Earth and we definitely don’t act on instincts in the same way most animals do, we’ve created society and rules and we do things a lot different than other animals but we are still animals.

So Logan isn’t both a man and an animal anymore than you or me. But he is a man that is more in touch with those animal instincts than the rest of us (bc of his mutation). Which I think is why when he does act on those instincts, people see him as less, because we (yes even comic book characters for this argument) only seem associate those traits with animals, with something lesser than ourselves.

The thing is, being “an animal” doesn’t need to be an insult or a condemnation of any kind. Humans are still animals but humans are still kind, and caring, humans have still created beautiful art and music and food and architecture and have got to the stars will probably go beyond the stars all while still being an “animal”.

So I think where most people get hung up on word “animal” is because it has such a negative connotation when applied to humans. And thus that negative connotation basically perpetuates itself so the only time we call other humans animals is when we mean to attack their humanity.

So back to Logan. Imo, there is no better example of this than the way people, Logan included, treat his (and subsequently him) berserker rage. Logan describes it as a monster that shares his soul, something else inside him, the real thing that makes him a monster, something that he doesn’t like, something he’s scared of, something he can’t always control but that he does everything in his power to keep away from the people he loves. Because Logan doesn’t like to kill, he doesn’t like hurting people. He might be good at it, he might be known for it but that doesn’t mean he likes it. Even when he thinks death is a deserved punishment, he isn't ever happy about having to kill. And he even says as much at one point in the comics.

And as a real quick aside, but this is almost exactly what sets him apart from Victor Creed. They're both men whose mutation gives them heightened animal like traits. The only difference is that Logan is ashamed of those parts of himself especially when they pertain to violence where Victor likes it, enjoys it; he goes out of his way for violence.

(If there is more to Victor Creed than meets the eye please tell me bc I gotta say I don’t actually know too much about him except that any time I see him in any Wolverine media I immediately laugh bc I know the two around to brawl. And I’m almost never wrong lmao)

And mind you there are times when Logan is also a hammer in the sense that he tends to punch his way through most of his problems. But he doesn't go out of his way for it in the same way Victor does despite having every reason to.

Logan has killed people but unlike Victor he isn't a killer. Even if that's what he's "the best at".

So when he goes into this specific rage that labels him a monster (an animal) it’s almost always in front of someone he loves and it’s almost always in a moment when he’s trying to prove his humanity (when it’s being used thematically and not for plot convenience). Like if you go read the comics 9 times out 10 when Logan is being called a monster or animal by some scientist or an enemy looking to humiliate him. But it’s almost always in the mitts of a life or death situation. A situation that anyone would fight light hell to get out of even with an amazing healing factor like Logan’s.

Because he still feels pain.

He still wants to survive.

He still feels.

And at the end of it all, he feels ashamed and horrified with himself and he'll always have to live with that guilt and shame. There's a point in one of the comics when he describes his heart as being slower to heal than the rest of his body and I think its interesting because although that story he's talking more from a "heart broken" sense. I also think that can apply just as equally to idea that it also harder for him to heal from not just heart break but also from shame and guilt. In certain situations, it takes longer for him to forgive himself emotionally because he suffers physically in the short term. He’ll never have a physical scar of his wrong doing and so he carries the emotional weight of it with him.

But also because he isn't just dealing with himself. In those moments when he comes out of that rage, the people he loves are in shock and are scared because they saw the “monster” and some people do reject it and in so they reject him and although rejection is something Logan thinks he deserves, it doesn’t make that pain hurt any less. it doesn't make it any easier to heal just because you agree with them, and in a way I think that's what slows down that healing process. Logan's inability to forgive himself.

Because that's the thing, Logan, would rather be scared of himself than forgive himself, be it because of his past trauma or because of the Weapon X program (which in the Weapon X comic it’s implied if not outright stated that the scientist at Weapon X are the reason he feels the fear he does about himself). Logan is scared of no one on Earth more than the man he sees in the mirror. And that’s because in his lowest moments when he looks in the mirror he doesn't see a man, instead he sees an animal, a monster. He doesn’t need the rest of the world to tell him what he already thinks of himself, it just doesn’t help that he has a choir of voices that are sometimes louder than his own telling him his worst fear is real. He is the monster that hides under his own bed but the problem is, while the monster is 'real' is a physical sense, it does not share a soul with him anymore than the boogeyman does. He wrestles with himself. Somedays he believes he's a man like anyone else and other days he can't drown out the voices telling him he's nothing more than a monster.

And as my last touch on the beserker rage, I want to posit my own theory about it. Personally believe to some extent that it isn’t part of his natural mutation and that instead it’s something that was “given” to him by the Weapon X program. The reason I say this is because I think it would make a lot of sense that like the adimantium claws and false memories it would make sense to give you “weapon” this uncontrollable rage (that mostly comes out in times of great duress). Not just because it would be one more thing Weapon X has taken from him (control over his own emotions/body) but also because wouldn’t that just make sense on the side of the people who ran the project? That your living puppet have a fail safe of sorts in case it ran into something bigger than itself? During the Weapon X comic, the scientist are constantly surprised by how resilient he is and even though some of this surprise happens in a false memory, they really do believe they can kill him at one points so if they thought they could kill him, why not something else? Why not give their investment insurance? And what better insurance for an animal than monstrous rage. 

But of course none of this is even to talk about the kind of person Logan really is. The thing that I think most people (in the comics) tend to ignore about Logan, in favor of focusing on his rough exterior (and some of his more questionable characteristics) is that he really does have a heart of gold. Now do not get me wrong, he can do some pretty fucked up shit (I will not talk about the Jean and Scott love triangle bc it gives me a migraine) but he does regularly do things that show how much empathy he has. That show that despite what he (or the rest of the world) might think, he isn’t a monster. The best examples of this are his relationships and more specifically the relationships where he’s a father/mentor. Like his relationship with Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, two kids that he basically adopts/takes under his wing and constantly goes out of his way for. Some of you might remember this post and the reason Logan does eventually fuck Wade’s shit up is because Wade literally punches the ever living shit out of Kitty in front of Logan. In another comic issue (after this), Logan beats the shit out of Wade again for punching Kitty, it’s funny but it also just goes to show that he does take protection of his family seriously. And mind you he doesn’t hunt Deadpool down, he find him by sheer plot coincidence when he’s getting a book signed for Kitty and the author just so happened to be Deadpool’s mark.

And mind you, Logan does have love for his own kids (Laura and Daken) despite the troubled nature of both this relationships but again those are a little more complicated. That’s partially for plot reasons but also because they play into just how much Logan hates himself that he struggles active show the same love for his adopted family to his “blood” family (again with Daken it’s a lot more complicated) but I also think that not only are his relationships with them fraught because of how much he hates himself but because both Laura and Daken were experimented on just and manipulated like he was (and in Daken’s case by a major player of Weapon X) so while he does love them past his own self hatred, they are also a reminder of his deepest traumas. It’s not their fault and it’s not necessarily Logan’s fault either, it’s just the cards their characters were dealt. (I haven’t read any comics with them yet so once I do I will most likely write my thoughts on his relationship with them each individually)

Regardless, Logan, depsite what he’d like you to think, is a deeply loving, empathetic and loyal person and this doesn’t just extend to people who considers family:

(Logan says this a man who not only a few issues ago was trying to kill him and his partner/friends. He saved Roughouse (the character he went berserk on a few pictures ago) because he was being experimented on in a way not too dissimilar to the way he had been by Weapon X. And if I remember correctly this is before he even knows how he got the adimantium in his bones)

He is James 'Logan' Howlett. He is a man whose life was stolen from him so many times over. He is a man who believes that the worse parts of him are all that matter and fails (or refuses) to see the good he has done in the lives of the people he cares about and believes that only death will truly bring him peace. He is someone who despite his flaws can’t help but to be kind. He is someone who fights like hell for what he believes is right. And even if he believes he’s a monster, even if the world believes he’s a monster, he will try to do the right thing because although he knows his soul is damned that doesn’t mean that exempts him from doing what good he can. He is someone who gives and good as he gets and then some. He’s the best at what he does but for him, that isn’t alway what he thinks it is.

And I think that’s the beauty of Logan as a character. Someone whose life is so wrought with tragedy and yet he is someone who can’t help but to be kind, someone who can’t help but love and care and find the humanity in the world despite the world seeming to be hellbent on taking his humanity away. Even though he (and many people in universe) might disagree with me, he is not only a one of the best humanity has to offer but he is also a shining example of the tenacity of the human spirit.

[paruparuparuparu]

UNHOLY ALLIANCE SPOILERS (again, I can’t stop yapping about this update):

Either I’m the slowest person alive, or I just think too much (though it’s fun to do so). BASICALLY I was just playing my game and thought over the Bishop’s final quest until I realized all of their dialogue had a connection to their injuries. I’ll start from the most obvious to the more vague.

First up- Leshy

In this dialogue, he makes the connection to his blindness and his ignorance, being so out of touch with reality that he didn’t know the extent of what he was getting himself into.

Narinder’s plans were not at all a bother to him, having his own cult to run and experiment with. He relished in the devotion his chaotic ways had to offer, and because of his foolishness, he lost his sight; hence see no evil.

Now for the genocide. Once again, he explains he didn’t know the full extent of what he was getting himself into, more focused on what had happened rather than what will happen. Therefore he thoughtlessly agreed, seeing how his siblings were compliant to Shamura’s orders.

He never saw the evil in the actions of his peers until it was too late, his eyes acting as both a symbol and punishment for his ignorance to all around him.

Next- Kallamar

This can be easily skipped if you didn’t pay attention to the dialogue, but he explains that all of which he has heard he wishes to unhear.

I already explained this in my other post, but he knew of Narinder’s plans, and instead of speaking out, he cowers and wishes he never knew of it in the first place. Unlike Leshy, who remained ignorant on the matter, Kallamar knew too much.

For the genocide (Which might explain the Mystic Sellers description of Kallamar), he hesitates when he hears of Shamura’s orders to kill all Lambs. A part of him knows that what they’re doing is wrong, but rather than listening to his sense of justice, he complies. An action in which he regrets.

He hears too often, and wishes to not hear. He listens, and yet doesn’t listen to himself. His ears act as a symbol and punishment for his cowardice and lack of self.

Now- Heket

This one is a little less obvious than the previous ones, but only a small part admits it. Heket shows her love for her siblings quite often despite being the cruelest of them. So imagine her despair once everything fell out of order.

For Narinder’s plans, she was most likely unaware of them before it was too late. And once everything started falling out of order, she was demanding for everything to go back to normal, urging her siblings for all that has gone wrong to right itself, and finally in her most vulnerable state, begged for the family she once knew to come back together, knowing that it never would.

After being left vulnerable, her despair turned into rage targeted at Narinder. She was determined to protect her remaining siblings, and in turn, immediately agreed upon hearing Shamura’s orders to carry out the slaughter of all Lambs. She heard the lambs scream and beg with their lungs, cry for lost loved ones, and demand justice for those who have been wronged. Though, she showed no remorse; for she knew there was none.

She screamed and begged for her family, and in turn heard others scream for their own. Her throat symbolizes and acts as punishment for the injustice she faced herself, and for the injustice she caused others.

Finally- Shamura

Shamura’s dialogue is the longest of the Bishops, as well as the most confusing for me to pick apart.

Shamura knew of Narinder’s plans, and yet decided to tell nobody. They knew of the risks of supporting such practices, yet went along with it anyways until the consequences were apparent. Then and there, they decided to put a stop to it all, banishing Narinder to his own realm.

This part would just be a guess in order to connect the dots, but I have a feeling that Shamura and Clauneck conversed one day. On that day, the cards were drawn, telling of a lamb that would slay all the Bishop and set the Chained One free. Shamura didn’t accept this, and politely dismissed themselves, almost immediately thinking on how to avoid such a fate.

One day after resting for years, they come up with a solution- that solution is of course, to destroy all lambs. They order their remaining siblings to hunt them down, spreading propaganda, putting bounty’s on their heads, and spreading plauge and famine across the lands.

They feed their siblings lies about the prophecy, twisting and molding their fate to bring a sense of hope to their siblings. Eventually, they start believing their own lie, convincing themselves that blood must be spilled in order to preserve the Old Faith.

They spin and mold the web to their liking, though eventually it will all come apart, and all that they’re left with is guilt. Their skull symbolizes the strings they pulled. The lies they fed. The guilt of knowing. The guilt of deceiving. All of it. For it is the way they will be punished.

All of these are basically my take on the whole thing, and are not confirmed besides the dialogue. I just enjoy piecing everything together because this game is just so amazing!! Also if you made it to here, thank you for reading all of that, and if you have any thoughts or corrections, feel free to comment and or repost!!

[signanothername]

I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf

I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO

Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch

Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox

Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au

Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)

Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced

So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch

But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill

Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)

But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)

What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going

But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN

He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch

he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics

One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?

Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333

If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3

[atinylittlepain]

Easy Cowboy - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

The ladies around Jackson can’t seem to keep their eyes off Joel. While he seems oblivious to their advances, she’s prickling with a feeling she knows she shouldn’t be having. What’s a gal to do when everyone wants to take a ride on with her cowboy?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, alcohol consumption, jealous and possessive Joel, and reader tbh

“You know, if you’re not careful your face could get stuck like that.” Ellie slaps a hard hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her eavesdropping. She’s been standing in the back of the makeshift town hall, watching folks trickle in for the weekly community meeting. She huffs at Ellie’s knowing smirk.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.” Ellie snorts, resting her head on her shoulder as she hangs off her arm.

“Oh, you don’t? You just always look like you’re about to strangle all the little housewives of Jackson?” She tries to soften her scowl, not quite sure how Ellie can figure her out so fast. She figures it must have been because of all the time they spent together on the road. Because the truth is, she would like to strangle some of the women of Jackson, at least sometimes. Like right now, as they’re eyeballing Joel, who’s standing at the head of the crowd with his brother, like he’s a goddamn piece of meat.

She had been listening in to their conversations, a few muttered desires of wanting to “ride that salt-and-pepper cowboy all night long” as well as some shared enjoyment of his “tight little jeans” that hugged his “equally tight little ass” just right. She hadn’t realized she had started shooting daggers at them until Ellie startled her out of her rage-induced reverie. 

Ellie tugs at her arm, once again shaking her out of her thoughts, “you know, a whole gaggle of them has started coming around when we get back from patrol? They like to watch him dismounting. S’fucking gross, man. Can you imagine? Having the hots for Joel.” Ellie grins, tilting her head, “well, I guess you can imagine.” “Ellie, watch it.” The girl puts her hands up, muttering “alright, alright, geez” before she shuffles off into the crowd to sit with some of the other teens of Jackson. She’s been relieved to see her finding some companions in town, thinking back on that young boy, Sam, and how hard it had been on her to lose the sweet comfort of a fast friend. She on the other hand, has had less luck, all the women her age casting sideways glances whenever she comes around. 

She’s heard the murmurings around town, mostly women’s gossip, calling her Joel’s “pet,” jealous scoffs at the way she and him move around each other, with each other, like magnets constantly coming back to contact. But she knows the truth. He’s not hers, not really. It’s mere comfort in closeness, familiarity. She had been with him since the beginning of this journey, been there for him. Through the loss of Tess, the trouble in Kansas City, and the whole road since. And even though there’s an understanding, an intimacy that runs bone deep between them, the sex has always been purely physical, just two bodies coming together again and again and again. She’d never ask him for anything more, the companionship is enough. But hey, who’s she to stop him from picking up a sweet little thing in town? Someone who’d cook him dinner, give him a back rub with soft hands that had never held a gun. Someone who wasn’t a whole decade younger than him.

She’s quick to block out these thoughts, bringing her attention back to the meeting that’s beginning. She watches Joel’s gaze scan the crowd as Tommy begins to talk about new security measures they’re working out. Even though she’s pressed up against the back wall, his eyes still find hers, but she’d be hard pressed to admit that her heart gives a tight squeeze when he offers her a sliver of a smile from across the room.

…

People are filing out of the hall, a few stragglers hanging around to talk to Tommy and Joel as well as the other leaders. She sticks at the back of the room, watching Joel look pretty uncomfortable in being forced to field so much conversation. Most of the people waiting to speak with him happen to come from the female half of Jackson’s population. She can’t help rolling her eyes at the way they hang off his crossed forearms. He keeps glancing her way, something pleading in his eyes, silently begging her to come give him an excuse to get the hell out of here. She’s enjoying watching him squirm just a little too much. Ellie sidles up to her again just then.

“You better go help him out, he looks like he’s about to blow a gasket.” She glances at the girl, fighting back a grin at her words.

“Suppose I should put him out of his misery.” She nudges into Ellie, earning a light laugh from the girl.

“You gonna go hang out with your friends tonight?” Ellie nods, they’re showing a movie in one of the old ski lodges.

“Alright, kid. Be good and–”

“Be safe. Yes, mother. I should be saying the same to you and the old man honestly.” She gasps at that, getting ready to chastise her, but Ellie is already slinking out of the building. That damn smartass.

She turns her attention back to Joel, who now has one of the women, she thinks her name is Katie, hanging on his shoulder and mumbling something in his ear. She scoffs, getting ready to shuffle over and save him from her mushy-gushy ramblings, but she pauses when she gets a better look at his face. He’s smiling. It’s small, but she knows it well. He glances at her briefly, but quickly shifts his gaze down to the floor, letting Katie continue to flirt shamelessly with him. For whatever reason, it’s enough to set her blood boiling. He’s a big boy, he can handle this himself. She quickly turns heel and stomps out of the town hall, heading straight to the bar.

…

She drinks way more than she knows she should. But, quite frankly, she’s too pissed off to care. Sure, she could put up with all the women throwing themselves at Joel, so long as he kept ignoring them. But it seemed like he had finally gotten the memo that he could have his pick of any of them, and that their little partnership, or whatever the hell it was, would soon be over. Well, fucking good for him then.

“You here alone?” She actually jumps a little off her stool at the intrusion before sighing and turning to whoever just startled her. She knows his name is Will, a young man who also works patrol shifts. He’s what people would have called a pretty boy, back before. Sort of floppy, sandy blond hair and soft blue eyes, dimples that crinkle when he splits into a smile. But she knows there’s more than meets the eye to this one, she’s been on a few shifts with him, and he can hold his own for sure.

She swallows another gulp of whatever it is they keep brewing before nodding.

“I suppose I am. Why? You wanna join me?” Her tongue has certainly been loosened by the drink and hell, if Joel gets to shop around, why shouldn’t the same go for her? Will smiles before sitting on the stool next to hers, turning so their knees are brushing lightly.

“How are you settling into town?” She quirks a crooked grin at him.

“Oh, just fine. Although I don’t think any of the ladies will be inviting me to their book clubs anytime soon.” Will laughs at that and it’s a sweet sound, one she thinks she could get used to. He leans in, whispering conspiratorially to her.

“Well, I think they’re all just a little jealous of the way you yank that man of yours around on an invisible leash.” She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at that, a boldness sweeping through her that sends her leaning into Will even more, bringing her lips up close to his ear.

“Well, let me tell you, he’s certainly not my man.” There’s a heavy pause of silence.

“He’s not?” She leans back just slightly to look into his baby blues.

“Nope,” she pops the letter p, “but if you know anyone looking to be, what’d you say? On my invisible leash? You let me know, alright?” She’s going to regret everything about this when she’s sober, but for now, she’s letting her anger roll into lust. Will swallows thickly, eyes darting from her gaze to her lips.

“I think I might know someone, yeah.” 

…

They’re a stumbling entanglement of limbs and sloppy kisses as they meander down the street towards her house. Her head is swimming in Will, drowning out the incessant chants of Joel’s name. It’s dark out as they near the porch of the house she shares with Joel and Ellie, none of the lights are on inside. He must be shacking up with Katie for the night, fucking good for him.

She leads Will up the steps to the front door, and as she fumbles with her key in the lock he presses up against her, leaving a wet trail of open-mouthed smacks along her neck that makes her squeal. Will huffs a laugh, spinning her around and pressing her up against the door, licking into her mouth. She pulls away with a wet click of spit.

“Shh, we have to be quiet, someone might hear us.” They both giggle before diving in for another writhing kiss.

“Well, wouldn’t that be a shame.” She lets out a shriek that she quickly cuts off by clamping her hand over her mouth. Will jumps back from her. 

They both whip around to see Joel sitting on the bench seat out on the porch. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans back, his legs kicked out and crossed in front of him. Even in the dim light of the evening she can see that he does not look very pleased with what he just saw. He stands with a sigh, slowly shuffling over until he’s standing right in Will’s space. He’s not much taller than him, but Joel still makes the other man look small with the way he’s scowling at him.

“Will, I suggest you go on home now.” Will’s eyes dart between Joel and her, hesitant to do anything.

“I said now.” Will jumps a bit at Joel’s harsh tone, taking one last look at her before shaking his head and stumbling down the porch steps and off down the street. She can’t believe what just happened.

“What the fuck, Joel?” He breezes past her, opening the door and turning around to look at her.

“The door was unlocked the whole time, by the way. Or are you really so drunk you couldn’t figure that out?” She’s dumbstruck by the venom laced through his words. He huffs before turning and going inside, her mutely following on his heels.

“Thought you’d be over at Katie’s, not lurking on the fucking porch.” It comes out as a grumble and he spins on her fast, looking totally confused.

“You must be real drunk, because you’re talking total nonsense.” She scoffs at that.

“Oh am I? So I didn’t see her practically chewing your ear off in the town hall?” Joel’s face falls, just for a moment, before he’s back to a furrowed scowl.

“Is that seriously what this is about? You’re jealous of some lady who I couldn’t give two fucks about?” They’re both up in each other’s faces now, arms crossed and pressing against each other.

“Fuck you, Joel. You seemed to be enjoying her attention just fine. And, for the record, I’m not jealous. But if you get to have yours I don’t see why I can’t have mine.” She sneers in his face but he looks like he’s about to explode, fists now clenched at his side.

“I am yours, goddamnit! And you’re mine. Not anyone else’s and especially not Will’s!” The tendons in his neck jump as he shouts at her, his eyes wild. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him like this, and suddenly she’s feeling really dizzy.

All she manages is a hoarse croak of his name before she’s keeling over at the waist and emptying the contents of her stomach all over his shoes and the floor. Through the dull ringing in her ears she hears Joel mutter a few choice curses before rather carefully toeing off his boots. He shifts over to her side and brings a warm palm between her shoulder blades, smoothing up and down the expanse of her back. She just hopes she got drunk enough that she won’t remember any of this the next morning.

…

Unfortunately, she receives no such mercy, waking up late the next morning with a throbbing headache and a very intact memory of everything that happened the night before. Joel had quietly helped her upstairs, shushing her groans as he cleaned her up, helping her out of her clothes and into one of his flannels that she had previously filched from him. He had even helped her into bed, the last thing she remembers before she passed out being him brushing her hair back from her face and muttering “get some rest, trouble.”

She’s completely mortified, and the only reason she feels brave enough to leave her room is because she knows Joel had a morning shift scheduled. When she creeps into the kitchen seeking a glass of water she finds Ellie leaning against the counter.

“Woah, so much for being good and being safe. You look like shit.” She groans, nudging Ellie to the side to grab a glass and fill it up.

“Thanks, kid. Feel worse than I look.” “Pretty sure that’s a statistical impossibility, but what the hell happened? Joel looked like he wanted to punch a hole through someone’s face this morning, like, more so than he usually does.” She glances at Ellie, choosing to take a long swig of water rather than answer her question. The girl huffs, stomping off with a muttered “no one tells me anything around here, jesus.”

Luckily, she has the day off from patrol, so she can spend it licking her wounds and avoiding Joel until he comes back tonight. She cleans herself up, taking a shower, still marveling that they get to have warm water. The rest of the day is spent simmering in a stew of her emotions. She goes to help out in the greenhouses, mostly because she knows Joel never goes over there. Unfortunately, that’s also where most of the women of Jackson work, and she can’t help but notice that their side eyes have transformed into blatant glares today.

She’s hauling sacks of soil when an overheard murmur makes her stop in her tracks. Did she just hear the word slut? She whips around, meeting the gaze of a pair of women.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?” The women share a look before both clearing their throats, the one finally speaking up.

“Oh nothing, hon. It’s just, Laura here lives across the street from you and Joel. She was telling me there was quite a scene on your porch last night.” The woman raises her eyebrows at her, a snide grin sliding across her face. She’s stunned speechless by these two birds’ boldness, but Laura seems to have something to add.

“A word of advice, sweetie. A real man like Joel needs a real woman, not some silly girl who’s messing around behind his back.” She drops the two sacks she had been carrying and they thud heavily on the ground, causing the two women to startle. She doesn’t stick around to hear any more of their advice, mostly because she knows that beating them up isn’t an option. She trudges through town, trying to hold back the tightness in her throat and the heat behind her eyes. It’s a race before the first tears fall, trying to get home before anyone sees her completely lose her mind.

Unfortunately, she runs right into Tommy, literally, smacking into him as she rounds a block. He holds onto her forearms as she stumbles back. She feels her stomach drop, because if Tommy is back, that means Joel is too. He tries to ask her if she’s alright, but she just shakes her head, shifting out of his grip and continuing her beeline home, scrubbing harshly at her eyes to keep from fully dissolving.

When she gets to the house, she sees no sign of Joel on the porch, a small mercy. She quietly slips upstairs, and can hear the shower running, choosing to shut herself into her room before promptly burying her face in the sheets on her bed. There’s no holding it back now, and she begins to silently cry. No real thought behind her tears, just a general sense that she’s royally fucked everything up. She doesn’t cry often, not in this world, and so it’s a short-lived fit, leaving her drained and curled up across her bed. 

There’s a soft knock at her door, the sound of shuffling boots. When she doesn’t answer he opens the door anyways, tentatively stepping inside. She refuses to look at him, sitting at the end of her bed and drawing her knees up under her chin. She hears him let out a sigh.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live.” He huffs at that, walking further into the room and leaning up against the wall across from her.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m still pissed at you.” Her gaze jerks up to his face and she’s met with his steely expression.

“Why are you pissed at me? I was drunk, Joel, a-and really upset, ok?”

“No, it’s not ok. Christ– I– I thought what we had meant something, right? And you were just ready to throw that away? With Will? I mean– fuck– I-I don’t get that.” She raises her chin defiantly at him.

“What we had? That’s a load of horseshit. What did we have, Joel? Association by proximity? A warm body to curl up with? A half-decent fuck? No, you don’t get to keep me as your little hanger-on while you try out all the other flavors in Jackson.” He scoffs, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

“Well, that’s real rich coming from you, considering you were getting ready to spread your legs for the first boy who looked your way.” She’s on her feet in a flash, taking one long stride to get in his space and slap him across his face, jerking his head to the side. He looks stunned as he holds his hand to his cheek.

“Fuck you, Joel. I’ve already been called a slut once today. I don’t need it coming from you too.” His demeanor changes instantly, brow furrowing.

“Who called you a slut?” She sighs, turning her back to him as she holds onto her arms across her chest.

“Baby?” 

“Don’t baby me, Miller. And who else but two bitchy members of your little fan club. Why don’t you go talk to them? I’m sure they’d be more than happy to give you their opinions of me.” There’s a hiccup of silence that passes between them before Joel’s gently reaching for her, turning her back to face him. She won’t lift her gaze from her feet.

“You gotta help me out here. I just– I don’t understand what happened for you to– christ– when I saw you with Will– you’re killing me here, baby.” She finally looks up at him, resisting the urge to thumb away the deep frown on his face.

“Look, Joel. I can admit that what I did was stupid. I just– fuck– I know what we are, what we were– and I had no right getting so worked up seeing you with those women. But please, don’t keep stringing me along. I’m not gonna wait for you in your back pocket until you find someone better than me. I can’t do that.” He’s looking at her like she’s grown a second head.

“What are you talking about? I’m not fucking looking for someone better. I’m looking at you, goddamnit! I want you. Thought that was clear.” She scoffs.

“I think we have two very different definitions of clear then. Joel, we’ve never talked like this.” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“I didn’t think we needed to talk like this! You and me, we understand each other. Didn’t think we needed words for us.” Her brain can’t help the chant it starts up of us us us us. 

“Well, just a little communication would have been nice.” He sighs, shaking his head as he sits down on the end of her bed. She joins him, looking at where their thighs are pressed up against each other. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I guess I should have been more– clear, about how I feel about you.” She glances at him.

“And how do you feel about me?” He just shoots her a look, brow raised.

“I’m actually waiting for an apology too y’know.” She huffs at that, dragging a hand down her face.

“I’m sorry for almost fucking Will. There, are you happy now?” He lets out a deep laugh and it startles her, the baritone thrum. 

“Goddamn, Ellie may be right. We really are a pair of idiots.” They glance at each other, and a laugh is shared that feels like a door opening, like something new. Joel carefully slides one of his hands to lace with hers, clearing his throat.

“Y’know you’re it for me. Only want you. Christ, these women around town drive me fucking insane, so goddamn handsy. If I didn’t think it’d bug you I’d keep you under my arm all the time, maybe then they’d get the fucking message.” What she says comes out as more of a mumble, but Joel still catches it.

“That wouldn’t necessarily bug me.” He grins, dipping his head to meet her gaze.

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” She rolls her eyes, but shakes her head no.

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.” He slings his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his side and landing a kiss in her hair. It feels like the biggest relief ever. He huffs out another laugh, shaking her where she’s melting into his torso.

“Pfft, fucking Will.” She groans at him, trying to pull away but he just holds onto her tighter, muscling around her until she’s halfway sitting on his lap, twisting to look him square in his very smug face.

“ I think you would’ve been sorely disappointed by that kid. He wouldn’t have a clue what you like, what you need.” 

“Oh yeah? And what exactly do I need, Miller?” He’s got a cocky smirk on his face, it’s a look she doesn’t often see on him. He shifts her on his lap some more until she’s finally straddling his waist, arms wrapped around his neck and thighs framing his hips. She gasps at the heady contact. 

“You need me, honey. Same as I need you.” And with that he’s drawing her in by her jaw for a harsh kiss. There’s nothing sweet about it, all clashing teeth and stubborn tongues. They’re both still cooling off from the mutual anger and it shows in how they grab onto each other, licking into each other’s mouths and swallowing each other’s groans. He presses his calloused fingers into the sliver of skin between her shirt and her jeans, dragging her hips impossibly closer until she’s grinding into his hardness. He lets out a low thrumming moan at the sensation. She grins.

“You need me, huh, Joel?” He grunts, trying to dip his head into her neck but she pulls him back by the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing a low moan from him. She presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Why don’t you lay back for me, cowboy?” She can see the flush creeping up his neck as he huffs out a low laugh, but she means business. She pushes hard on his chest, tipping him back onto the mattress with a soft “oof” as she gets to work on the buttons of his shirt while he toes his boots off. She laves her tongue over each new inch of exposed skin, and by the time she gets to the bottom of his shirt he’s letting out the sweetest little grumbles. She noses along the waist of his jeans and he huffs.

“Such a tease.” She grins up at him, finally unbuckling his belt and harshly tugging it out from under him in a way that makes him startle.

“That’s right, baby. And I can do whatever I want. Because this is all mine, right?” She rests her palm on his stomach, feeling his rapid breaths rise and fall. He swallows hard, looking down at her with his hands crossed behind his head.

“S’all yours, darlin.” She knows she’s got him when he starts talking like that, his southern drawl melting his words and dripping slow like honey. He shudders as she lays one more open-mouthed kiss below his navel before finally undoing his jeans and shucking them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock immediately springs up to his stomach, dribbling pre-cum in the tufted hair there. She lays between his spread legs and noses up the length of him, just barely letting her lips brush against the tip. He grumbles under her teasing.

“C’mon, baby. Why don’t you go ahead and take what’s yours already, huh?” She grins at his almost pained expression, the crease between his brows and the little huffs he keeps letting out. 

“Always so bossy. Lucky for you I’m in a giving mood.” He goes to speak again but is quickly cut off by a broken moan when she finally licks a broad stripe up the heavy vein of his cock before taking the head into her mouth and giving an experimental bob. She finds a rhythm, taking him a bit deeper each time until she’s swallowing around him in her throat in a way that makes his toes curl. 

“Fuck– s’perfect– perfect mouth taking all of me. S’good, so good for me, baby.” He reaches for her, trying to card his fingers through her hair and guide her movements, but she immediately stops, grabbing his wrists and pinning them up by his shoulders.

“Uh-uh, no touching, Miller. You’re just gonna lay there and take what I give you, got it?” He looks frustrated that she stopped, that she’s demanding so much control, but he just swallows thickly and nods. She smiles and lays a quick peck at the corner of his mouth before sinking back down and returning to work.

He’s a writhing mess under her as she sucks him off, digging his hands into his thick hair to stop himself from reaching out for her. She can feel his thighs tensing where her hands are splayed and knows he must be getting close. This time, she’s surprised when he interrupts her, yanking her back by her hair and forcing her to look up at him.

“Alright, think you’ve had your fun. S’my turn now.” His movements are fluid and startling in their quickness as he sits up and effectively flips them until she’s splayed out on the bed underneath him. She gasps as his mouth and hands wander everywhere, making quick work of the buttons of her shirt before not so gently shrugging it off her shoulders and tossing it on the floor. He mouths over the fabric of her bra in a way that makes her back arch, giving him enough space to undo the clasp and slide it off her before dipping back down and taking a peaked nipple into his hot mouth. His teeth graze over the sensitive skin and she sighs out his name at the sensation. He grins up at her in a way that makes her want to smack him.

“This all mine, right darlin?” She lets out a breathy “yes” and it’s all he needs to hear to get back to work, starting to suck and bite harshly at her skin, leaving mottled bruises in his wake as he travels further down her torso. He makes quick work of her pants and underwear, shuffling them down her legs and tossing them aside, working his way back up to her center by dragging his mouth along the inside of her leg, nuzzling into the plush of her inner thighs. She can’t help the whimpers that start to crack in her throat under his ministrations. He hovers his mouth over the heat of her cunt, each exhale sending shivers up her spine.

“You’re lucky, darlin, you know why?” She furrows her brow at him, he just grins.

“Because unlike some people, I’m not a fucking tease.” With that, he’s licking a flat stripe through her folds that sends her hips arching up into his mouth. He’s holding nothing back, a sloppy haze of slick dipping from her entrance up to her clit. The sound of him devouring her is obscene laid over her drawn out whines. Joel knows her well after so much time together. Knows how she likes it, what she needs when he eats her out, when she needs him to slide his fingers inside her and give her something to clench down around, right as she’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Come for me, baby. Just like this. Show me you’re mine.” His low murmurs send a thrum through her core that’s enough to snap whatever resolve she had left as she comes undone around his fingers, shivering as he continues to lick at her. She finally pushes his face away from her with a gasp, becoming too sensitive to let him keep working at her. 

He crawls up her body, meeting her for a kiss and she groans at the taste of herself on his tongue. She draws her knee up to his hip, using the leverage to flip him under her, straddling his waist and soaking his happy trail with her dripping cunt. His hands are kneading at the meat of her ass and she lurches forward when he brings one down in a harsh smack. She scowls at the smug look on his face.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. Still pissed about seeing you with that fucking kid.” She rolls her eyes, going to say something smart but her voice dies in her throat when he lands another slap, causing her to gasp out his name and bury her face in his neck. He kisses her temple sweetly, a stark contrast to the sting as he smacks her ass again. She thinks there’s going to be marks left afterward, though maybe that’s the whole point. 

He finally lets up, once again gripping her ass in a way that makes the tender skin smart. She tilts her head to hold his gaze, pressing in for another kiss. He pulls away first, his breathing a bit ragged.

“You gonna ride your cowboy, baby?” She lets out a gasp as he laughs at the look on her face.

“So you have heard what those women are saying. Goddamnit, Joel–” he cuts her off with another hard kiss.

“Don’t give a fuck about what they’re saying. Just want you, now.” She presses her palms into his chest as she shifts her hips back, lining the tip of his cock up with her entrance before slowly sinking down. They’re both a mess of sighs and whines as she settles with him fully inside her. It’s always a stretch at first. Joel traces his fingers down her arms before wrapping his broad hands around the plush of her hips. She gives a few tentative rolls into him that sets his eyes turning back in his head. She slowly finds her rhythm, sinking down on him with each bounce and twisting her hips until he’s a panting mess beneath her. She rests the flat of her palm along the base of his throat and doesn’t miss the way his eyes widen at her movements. 

“Tell me how it feels, baby, s’good for you?” Joel grunts at her question, his fingers flexing where they’re squeezing at her waist.

“S’fucking perfect. You’re perfect– fuck– take me so well, darlin.” He bends his knees and plants his feet into the mattress, the shift causing her to press forward until their chests are smashed together as he starts to thrust up into her. She lets out a broken cry at the brutal pace he sets.

“Fuck, Joel– n-need more– need you– need you to–” he shushes her, already complying without needing her to say it as he flips them over so he’s caging her in. He drags a long kiss out of her before sitting up and pulling out of her, making her whine at the loss. 

“Want you on your hands and knees for me.” She doesn’t need to be told twice, flipping over and getting into position as Joel palms his cock behind her. She shudders when he presses up against her, just barely dipping back into her. She whines at his teasing, trying to draw him deeper but he squeezes her hips harshly.

“Patience, darlin. I’ll give you what you want. But I gotta ask you something first.” She glances at him over her shoulder, brow furrowed. 

“Need you to tell me. D’you think Will could fuck you as good as I do?” She huffs at that.

“Joel, I said I was sorry– christ– just fuck me already.” That’s not what he wants to hear and he acts like he’s getting ready to pull away from her entirely. She stammers on her words she talks so fast.

“No, no! H-he couldn’t fuck me like you do. No one f-fucks me as good as you– please, Joel.” That’s apparently enough of an answer for him as he lines himself up and thrusts into her in one long stroke, pressing his hips hard against the swell of her ass. She lets out a long preening whine as he starts to thrust into her, slow but deep movements that make the bed shuffle up against the wall. His hands are roaming over her back, her sides, down to her hips, rough calluses making her shiver.

“Fucking made for me, darlin. Nobody else, huh? S’just you and me.” She lets out a breathy “yes” to his low rumbling words, fisting the sheets below her as she feels the pleasure starting to spill over once again.

Joel seems to notice it too, snaking one of his hands down her front to bluntly swipe against her clit. 

“You gonna come for me, baby? Just for me, right? Not for anyone else?” She nods frantically, pressing her hips back into his with each thrust.

“Y-yes, Joel– fuck– s’all for you– only for you– p-please don’t stop– so fucking close, baby.” He curls over her, his broad chest brushing against her back as he brings his lips to her ear.

“Give it to me, baby. Come for me, right now.” That’s all it takes for her to seize up in his hold, pulsing around his cock and tumbling over that blinding edge of pleasure, a broken cry of his name the only sound she can get out. She bows down onto her elbows, pressing her cheek into the sheets as he fucks her through it, making the pleasure simmer almost painfully as his pace starts to falter too. 

“Fuck– s’good for me, baby– you’re perfect.” His voice sounds nearly pained and she immediately knows he’s close.

“Want you to come for me, Joel. Let go for me.” He presses his forehead between her shoulder blades, rutting haphazardly into her.

“Tell me you’re mine, darlin. Wanna hear you say it.” 

“I’m yours, Joel– p-please come, baby– come for me.” He curses lowly, pulling out but keeping a hand on the base of her spine as he strokes himself a few times before he’s painting her ass with his spend. The only sound as he comes is his breathless gasps of words.

“Fuck– I’m yours, darlin– I’m all yours.” It’s silent for a moment as they both catch their breath, Joel flops onto his back next to her and she splays out on her stomach, shivering at the sensation of his cooling come on her skin.

He glances at her flushed face, the twitch of a smile at his lips as he wheezes out a laugh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, trouble.” 

…

Ellie looks between the pair at dinner, seeming to be trying to figure something out. 

“You two look pleased with yourselves. Something big must have happened between now and this morning when you were both so goddamn testy.” That earns her a glare from Joel. She holds her hands up in surrender.

“Hey, hey. I’m happy for you guys, seriously. It’s about time you stopped dicking around, gonna save a lot of ladies some serious trouble now that you’re officially together.” She quirks an eyebrow at the girl.

“What makes you think we’re “officially” together?” Ellie just shrugs.

“Well, usually you both make more of an effort to cover up the evidence, but from the looks of those bruises on both your necks I’d say you’re done hiding the obvious.” She swallows hard around her bite of food, glancing at Joel, sure enough spotting a trail of hickies peeking out of his shirt collar. She only feels a little guilty. Joel just huffs.

“Alright, kid, easy does it there. But, yes, just for the record. I guess, we– well, we– uh–” she stops his floundering, bringing her hand to rest over his on the table.

“You were right, Ellie. We’re together.” The kid gives them a smug look.

“I am both disgusted and happy for you.”

…

With everything finally out in the open, she feels no hesitancy in joining Joel in bed that night, curling up around each other in a tangle of limbs and settling on the brink of sleep. She glances up at him from where her cheek is resting against his chest.

“Joel?” His low murmur lets her know he’s listening.

“I wanna tell you something. And you don’t have to say anything back. But, I love you. You need to know that.” There’s a heavy pause of silence before Joel draws her into him a bit tighter, sighing over the top of her head.

“Feel the same way, darlin. Guess I’ve been in love with you for a while. Just a hard thing to say, in this world.” She breathes out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. He clears his throat.

“Hope you know I’m not letting you go now.”

“I know, cowboy.”

…

They both have a patrol shift the next morning, and as they step out onto the porch bright and early, she can see Laura across the street, sitting on her own porch and watching them pointedly. Just as Joel turns back to her after locking the door, she grabs him by the nape of his neck and spins them into an entirely too intense kiss for this early in the morning. When she pulls away with a lewd little pop, Joel’s face is painted with shock, his eyes darting from hers to her lips and back up again.

“What the hell was that for?” She just shrugs before taking his hand in hers and hopping down the steps. She waves to their neighbor with her other arm.

“Morning, Laura!” The woman doesn’t respond, primly looking away with a scowl on her face. 

She doesn’t care though, not when Joel’s got his arm wrapped around her and his hand on her hip as they head off down the street for their shift. Might as well give the ladies of Jackson something to talk about.

[danikamariewrites]

i’m obsessed with rhysriel x reader👀👀 could i request hc’s where we get an insight into rhys and az’s relationship? Are they in love too? Or are they just mated to reader? And if they are in love, then was it a lotta jealousy st first or did they get along/ when did they realize that they were also in love🤭 also do they have fun times without reader?👀 i imagine reader just coming home one time and they’re making out or something on the bed/sofa and they ask if she wanna join but she just wants to watch

The Other Half

Rhysriel x reader

A/n: you really made me think here anon. Writing the lil romance between Rhys and Az was so cute, I was kicking my feet giggling writing this lol.

@amara-moonlight I hope you enjoy this babes 💖

Warnings: jealous/possesive Az & Rhys, throuple, and fluff (as always)

When the bond snapped for all three of you the boys were so happy to be with you

Rhys and Azriel discovered the bond between them shortly after it snapped with you. To say they were shocked was an understatement

I think Azriel had always loved Rhys but had kept it buried because it felt like he wasn’t supposed to, where Rhys had a few male lovers when they were younger so this wasn’t entirely new for him

The new bond between Rhys and Azriel was hard for them to navigate at first

They’ve always had love for each other, they just never realized how deep the love they had for each other was

Azriel would have a hard time with this since he’s so used to keeping his feelings inside. You and Rhys were always there to comfort him though, letting him know it’s ok and to talk through what he’s thinking

With the mating bond the two males felt like they had a lot to work through

After knowing each other for centuries Az and Rhys felt like they needed to reconnect

You helped them a lot to be comfortable as mates

The two males ended up falling in love as they fell more in love with you

Watching them openly love each other melted your heart

Your mateship wasn’t always easy at first. It was a rocky few months after the frenzy

Az and Rhys would get jealous and possessive with you

It was hard to navigate spending one-on-one time together with Az and Rhys

While they wanted to spend time together they spent more time mad at each other , trying to steal you from one another

Mediating between your mates sucked

And you never understood where the animosity came from! They always got along but the bond made their relationship unstable

At one point Rhys and Az didn’t talk for a week because their jealousy was so bad

Az had just come home from a mission on the Continent and just wanted to hold you and sleep

Trudging into Rhys’s office to debrief him, Azriel was met with Rhys holding you tightly to his chest while you lounged on his lap. The sight should’ve made him happy but all Azriel felt was rage

He could’ve easily just asked Rhys if he could spend time with you now that he was home. Rhys did have you alone for days at a time after all. Instead Azriel projected his annoyance down the bond to Rhys

That night they got into their first real fight. Yelling and shoving each other. They didn’t stop until you stomped out of the room screaming, “ILLYRIAN BABIES! GOOD GODS!” Followed by the slamming of your own bedroom door

For almost a week the three of you slept in separate rooms

You didn’t want to hurt their feelings or make it seem like you were picking sides. The whole thing gave you anxiety and made you close off your side of the bond. You were especially stressed when the boys would talk to you one at a time and never in the same room

It wasn’t until you broke down crying, begging them to speak that they realized their emotions were hurting you

“I am begging you, for the sake of our relationship, to fix whatever your issues are! If you don’t I’m not sure I can do this for thousands of years because it is killing me!” Azriel and Rhys felt their hearts break at your words and tears

Azriel and Rhys embraced you, apologizing profusely promising they would work things out

After a weekend at the cottage in the mountains Azriel and Rhys came back calm and so in love you were overjoyed

Rhys showed you parts of the romantic bits of their time away. Making each other food, reading together, their long talks and sleeping in each other’s arms

He also showed you the more…explicit moments (it made you a little jealous but they made up for it when they came home)

The first time you went out leaving them home alone after they were in love was weird for them at first. The cabin was different. You went to run errands alone. One of them always goes with you

It was getting late and Rhys was getting worried. Before Rhys could tap at your mental shields he could smell dinner being made

Rhys followed the scent into the kitchen, finding Azriel standing at the island prepping food. He’s wearing an apron that is definitely yours with his sleeves rolled up. There’s a bottle of wine on the counter from Rhys’s personal collection along with 3 crystal glasses. Rhys smiles at the simplicity of the scene in front of him

He leans against the door frame, “What’s all this?” Rhys says teasingly. Az smirked as his shadows swarm him in a panic that tells Rhys he was too early. “It’s been awhile since we had a nice dinner so I thought I’d cook.”

Rhys makes his way over to Azriel, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, love.” Azriel’s cheeks flush at the term of endearment. Rhys picks up a knife and starts cutting up the potatoes

Coming home from your errands you hear their light conversation and laughter. Dumping your bags by the front door you tiptoe to the kitchen, hoping Az’s shadows are distracted. You find your boys messing around, kissing, and just being happy cooking together warms your heart

You love seeing them love each other never gets old

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for getting mad my gf for making assumptions ?

🦖🍀

My gf and I have been together for 2 and a half years. She’s in her mid 20s I’m in my late 20s. We’re a het couple, both bisexual. When we first started dating my gf said she has a lot of friends, guys and girls and she intends to not break up any already established friendships unless they prove toxic. It was hard at first not to let my jealous run wild, but I learned to manage it.

My gf has this long distance friend who wasn’t always long distance, we’ll call him Sam. Sam and her have been friends since they were teenagers. I only heard about stories of Sam. Sam moved in the area and my gf and him have been hanging out. I’ll be honest I was jealous. They had better conversations, they motivated each other in ways I didn’t know I could motivate my gf. I felt like everything they did was a slap in the face that should have been together.

My gf has her life together and so does Sam. I often feel like I don’t and my gf often emotionally supports me. I don’t really feel like I can do that for her equally. (I do put in the effort but she doesn’t have as many problems as me/her problems she always in the conversation that they’re her problems to fix). She doesn’t outwardly ask Sam to support her, she’ll just mention in passing about something and he just good at letting her rage out.

To deal with my jealousy, my gf gave me her location, would let me know when she was hanging out with Sam, offered to let me pick out outfits, and ask all questions I wanted. Even with all that I still didn’t feel it. It wasn’t that they were doing anything, it was the fact they were a better match. I finally asked her if she ever did have feelings for Sam and she just straight up said no.

So she made me hangout with Sam. And I started hanging out with him more. Hes a lot, but good hearted. He was a guy I actually opened up to and didn’t regret it. I didn’t tell him the stuff I felt about him and my gf but we talked about other things and how it’s hard to be a man sometimes.

Later Sam invited us over to his place for dinner. He said he had something to ask us. He did this confession where he had fallen for the both of us and wanted us to be a three way couple.

I was shocked because at first I thought I finally had my proof something was going on between my gf and Sam. Before I could fully process that thought, my gf declined. She said that she isn’t interested in Sam that way, and my gf and I had talked about polygamy and we never liked the idea of it for us.

She wasn’t lying about the polygamy thing we have talked about it and really didn’t like the concept. We needed up leaving and hugged sam goodbye. She thanked him for asking us both at the same time and they’d talk soon.

On the way home I thought about it and I was kinda annoyed. I was annoyed my gf made that decision so quickly without even discussing it. So I asked her and she just said that we’ve talked about it already and we weren’t interested in the hypothetical and she doesn’t like Sam like that. She apologized for letting her gut do the talking but she can’t imagine having a third.

I had started thinking about Sam as a third when he had brought it up and it didn’t seem bad. His confession was genuine. I thought it was mean how fast she said no. And maybe Sam would be the only one who could be our hypothetical 3rd if we ever wanted that.

I think I’m more offended that my gf has always been more decisive than me. She has been the one holding the reins in this relationship. It hasn’t been all bad, but when I wanted to talk about getting serious she wasn’t ready, but then later she was ready and I wasn’t. When I wanted her to move in with me she didn’t because she was ready and didn’t want to give up her space, but when she found a bigger place for us she was ready.

I’ve been kinda cold to her and she asked what’s wrong and I just told her I wish we would talk about this instead of letting your gut talk. She’s grown a little distant just saying she doesn’t know what she wants to say to that because she thought we were on the same page and I said she always assumes we are but we don’t talk.

[thedevilspearl]

favourite time of the day — all brothers

a/n: so this one is inspired by moonlight sunrise by twice and are basically my headcanons of the brothers’s favourite times of the day to have sex. and before you tell me, i know the devildom is dark 100% of the time but these are just how i imagine them if they had both daylight and night time.

tags: all brothers. no explicit smut but consistent discussion of sex, so minors do not interact!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 likes to head to bed early; he needs his rest. so he tries his best not to be too active in the evening or else he won’t sleep a wink. that is until he’s stuck in his office with a raging boner under his desk because he thought about you for a little too long. he’s not sleeping now either way so as soon as he gets his hands on you, he’s giving you all he’s got. his evenings finally feel more fun with you. he doesn’t get any work done because his desk is occupied with your bare bodies, but this is a much more satisfying way to spend his evenings.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 lives for the nights. daytime is a hassle, but the night is when he peaks. more so, the early hours of the morning. the vibes of a pitch black sky signalling the end of his rowdy night out. and as much as he’d love to stay out until dawn, he’d rather bring you home safe and sound and use all of his remaining energy (which is a lot) to fuck the living daylights out of you. he doesn’t stop until the sun rises, and he finally collapses with his arms around you as golden rays fill his room, lulling you both to sleep with the added warmth.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 finds something provoking about late afternoon and early evening. he likes dusk in particular, the air is different. it feels romantic and dreamy, but also nothing out of his comfort zone. it’s a relatively quiet time so he won’t feel disturbed. at this time, he’s tired after a long day of classes, but he’s not quite ready for dinner yet. and he needs something to fill the time which would usually be games but spending time with you will always come out on top. so he always tries to fill this time with a shared intimate experience.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍 is a difficult one to figure out but it depends entirely on his mood. he doesn’t have a specific preference, but cares more about whether he will be disturbed or not. so again, it depends on the mood. if it’s a busy morning, no morning sex. but if he knows it’s a quiet morning and the two of you are alone, then he’s all for some lazy morning sex. it works in the evenings like this, too. he won’t ever make a move if he knows his brothers will interrupt him at any given minute, but perhaps when they’re busy downstairs, he’ll sneak you up to his room and give you the perfect end to your day.

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 is all about that daylight. sure, romantic candlelit sex at night is nice, but there are too many shadows working hard to hide your body from him. he doesn’t want a single inch of you hidden away from him. there’s just something so sweet about it, too. most people assume these kinds of things happen at night when it’s quiet and intimate, and that’s why he loves sex with you during the day all the more. he can escape from all of his duties and responsibilities and instead adore all of you with his undivided attention.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 is an early bird. he rises with the sun and has the most energy on mornings when the golden sunlight pours into the bedroom, highlighting your body in all the right places and making you glow. he is definitely the type to wake you up with oral; he wants you at any given time of the day, but mornings feel special in a way. there is added intimacy from waking up in each others arms and being alone together. he can’t imagine his mornings any other way because sex with you is always the best start to his day.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 is a night guy, there is no question about it. and while he’d rather spend his nights sleeping and dreaming until his heart is content, no dream could ever beat the real thing. the night for him is long, too. it could be from nightfall all the way until dawn. it doesn’t matter to him, as long as it’s dark and he can feel the vibe of night time. it’s comforting to him, and he wants to share that cosiness with you. it’s the right amount of seductiveness and sleepiness in the dark, so sex with belphie at night is the dreamiest!

[livmightlive]

LU Soul Eater AU: Four

I must admit, Four has a really edgy 2014 lab AU that I spent too much time thinking about. I did have fun though so here’s his backstory and a trigger warning for unethical human experimentation. I don’t think it’s anything more graphic than what would be in Soul Eater.

A small disclaimer: I’m going mostly off of what I remember from the manga for any sense of canon, I haven’t had the privilege of playing the game yet. 😔

I think I mentioned before, but each of Four’s colors are a different type of knife. Together they’re able form the four sword.

Green is a machete. 

I decided on that for him because I think that machetes look really dangerous, showing up in a lot of horror media, and can cause a lot of harm, but that is not what they are meant for. Machetes are meant for clearing bush and foliage away to clear paths through forest or jungle. They can be used to obtain resources. A trailblazer or leader might use this knife. Green grew up with his father who was a captain in the royal guard. Green was being groomed as a weapon for the Princess Dot. Upon manifesting as a machete, a lot of people, especially Green’s own father, were disappointed and believed him to be a poor weapon for a princess looking crude and brutal. Together, Dot and Green proved the masses wrong, with them both proving themselves as leaders before fighters. 

Vio is a throwing knife. 

Vio is a child runaway. I can’t figure out what would be a good reason for him to run or what his family would be like, but I imagine he learned a dangerous secret. I also like to think that despite Vio being very smart, he can be unreasonable and is able to rationalize himself into making bad choices. He’s a throwing knife because it takes a lot of learning and skill to be able to wield a weapon such as that. It also takes something crazy to throw your weapon away from you and be able to rely on it to return. Vio can be recalled by his meister, but it has to be of his own accord. He can also control his flight to some degree. Up until the events I’ll describe in a minute, he had never been wielded before.

Blue is a trench knife.

In the background of the events during my story, there’s a war raging in the background that’s much more prevalent in Warrior’s story. This has caused a lot of children to be orphaned, Blue included. He grows up in a poorly funded orphanage and gets into a lot of fights growing up. I chose a trench knife for Blue because it is a very brutal weapon, something which I think he can be. It’s also a weapon that when you use, you know that you are aiming to really hurt your opponent and that you have to get really close to do so. There are also two main ways to use a trench knife, the blade, ofc, and the brass knuckles which I think kind of show how Blue thinks outside the box, especially in combat. It’s also a weapon that’s mean to be used when your back is against the wall.

Red is a Switchblade.

Red also grew up in an orphanage also due to the war. He and Blue grew up in the same place but weren’t close with each other. He definitely grew up more of a lover having a high level of empathy. Despite being picked on, maybe bullied a bit, Red is the type of person who never wants to hurt somebody else even in self defense. I chose the switchblade for Red because it kind of conceals its nature most of the time hiding in a sheath. A switchblade is a weapon that has to be used in close quarters, but unlike Blue’s trench knife, the opponent might not even recognize it as a weapon until it’s too late. Switchblades are spring loaded and fast, but by pressing a button, the user has a lot of choice before they use it. I think Red would be able to stop himself from being triggered in his weapon form if he tried hard enough.

All of the four were born in the same year, all being roughly the same age. (Yay this means I can choose their zodiacs!) When they were all 11, each of them were kidnapped in the same winter by a witch called Vaati. Vio was first, being a homeless child he was hungry enough to be lured in by the prospect of working for food and board. This later would be something he feels ashamed of thinking himself more clever than that. Next would be Red who thought he was helping an elderly woman carry her groceries home… into a dark alleyway. Blue would be next, probably just being classically kidnapped after he poked around somewhere shady. Green would be the last, going on a personal mission to investigate the rapid disappearance of kids from the city he lived in. 

Vaati is a witch who is trying to make weaker weapons stronger in order to arm the army of the ancient evil (ganon) that he and many other witches are trying to revive.  For his first experiment, he wants to fuse several small/young weapons into one big stronger one. He chose the four because they’re young enough to be malleable but old enough to actually be able to turn into their weapons. They also conveniently have a lot in common, age, gender, and weapon type which Vaati thinks will make it easier to fuse them.

Vaati begins a series of experiments that don’t really seem to make sense to the four. He’ll force them all to work together to complete puzzles only to rip them apart for the next few. Vio, who’s been there the longest, plays along well knowing what to expect. Green, who’s been training already for a long time, doesn't struggle too much with physical or mental challenges. Red and Blue however struggle a lot causing Vaati to use crueler and crueler experiments to get them to obey.

Vaati’s struggle with Red and Blue resides in that Blue fights back the most and is actually quite brawny for a tween and Red won’t fight at all refusing to take his weapon form and even if he does, he won’t unsheath. Blue is something Vaati must subdue and break in. Red is something to trigger. He routinely exposes them to extreme temperatures, Blue the cold and Red the heat, and subjects them to frightening simulations. (I’m basing this off the manga with blue being frozen, red in the burning village, the giant poe)

Most confusingly, he makes the four wield each other which is not natural/impossible for weapons to do. Vaati achieves this with the help of magic.

Vaati works using his own son Shadow as an assistant. Shadow is a similar age as the boys and enjoys the power he gets to lord over them. Secretly, he’s really happy to have so many other kids around. That being said. He hasn’t been properly socialized so his idea of trying to play with them is just by mildly tormenting them. 

Vio is the first to start befriending Shadow. Like in the manga, he does this with the intention of later betraying him, planning on using him as means to escape. He unexpectedly begins to genuinely like Shadow and starts to experience extreme guilt in thinking about what he’s going to do. Nevertheless, Vio begins to start faking Stockholm syndrome. This is really confusing for the rest of the boys. Blue thinks that Vio is bad person and is actually siding with Vaati. This leads to a fight between them that results in Vio being separated from the rest of the boys. (I didn’t mention it but they’re usually locked in the same room between experiments.) Red believes that Vio actually has Stockholm syndrome and feels really bad for him. Green can see through Vios' plan but just thinks that it’s a really bad idea. He doesn’t say anything though because he doesn’t want to ruin it for him just in case it does work. 

Red is the next to befriend Shadow, though it’s unintentional. Despite everything, Red does his best to remain kind, maybe not so much to Vaati, but to Shadow, sure. Red thinks that Shadow is just a brainwashed kid, which he’s kind of right about. Shadow starts to like Red because he’ll go along with any game he wants to play. 

Green falls after Red gets more chill with Shadow. The games they play look fun and Green really didn’t have a lot of chances to play growing up. He starts to take a page from Vio’s book, trying to pry information where he can from Shadow. Somehow he feels less bad about this than Vio does. 

Blue thinks everyone is going crazy in here so he takes to verbally bullying Shadow whenever he swings by. Shadow, being a weirdo, thinks that it’s a form of banter so he just bullies Blue back. Unexpectedly, and to his own horror, Blue finds it really fun to be able to have a witty back and forth with somebody who can match his level.

Shadow for the first month or two is really his dad kidnapped people his age. It’s so FUN having people to play with! He even has a best friend now in Vio. He doesn’t really think about the implications of his dad hurting his new friends, and his role in that, until they start acting different. 

Vio starts having panic attacks (out of nowhere!/s) and can take hours or even days to calm down rendering him unable to even speak. This is the first thing that rattles Shadow. It’s the first time he felt hurt seeing somebody else hurt. His attempts to calm Vio down begin selfishly, wanting him to stop acting weird and to start acting like his best friend again. Eventually it turns into genuine and raw concern. Shadow, for the first time, feels bad because somebody else does. He starts just really wanting Vio to be okay. 

His other playmates start breaking down too. Red is too exhausted now to play. He sleeps most of the day away and when he’s awake he’s too shaky and weak to do anything. Blue becomes dissonant, stuck staring at walls. He won’t respond to even the strongest of Shadow’s remarks. Green is caught between caring for the other two. He becomes too busy to try and pry information out of Shadow.

Then a day comes where Vaati gathers each boy and throws them into the middle of a collection of runes drawn on the ground with a combination of their blood. A flash and they’re all rendered into their weapon states, unwillingly. After a few moments there’s another flash and only a single weapon remains. The Four Sword. When the weapon takes its human form back, only one terrified boy stands sharing features of the four that formed it. 

Despite Vaati’s satisfaction, Shadow feels that something REALLY wrong just happened, and it did. He later visits “Four. Four is shell shocked, barely able to walk, confused, and really, REALLY scared. He looks at Shadow and begs him to let him out. Shadow obliges.

Picking up the newly formed Four sword, Shadow vanquishes his own father and runs with his new friend Four. Shadow was greatly wounded in the fight, his father cursing him to never stand in sunlight. Four is traumatized and so confused. He decides to go to Green’s father, now technically Four’s father, unsure of where else to go. 

The two boys tell the story to Four’s dad and a proper raid is unleashed on Vaati’s lab, leaving out the parts where Shadow was Vaati’s accomplice for most of the time. No body is found. Four’s father tries to defuse him, which just terrifies him. Shadow gets some medical treatment but most people don’t want to treat him, as he was Vaati’s son. 

Four’s father, unsure what to do with two traumatized children, dumps them on his father, Four’s grandfather who lives out of town as a blacksmith. There they all heal and after a few years learn to defuse. They’ve all spent so much time together though that they can’t bare to part. They are literally part of each other now. Green’s father decides to give them all knight training and Shadow learns how to wield each of them and Four properly. They all know how to wield each other too but this is uncanny for a lot of people. Weapons wielding weapons… 

Shadow goes missing at the end of a dangerous mission. All too soon, Four is called to accompany 8 others on a holy quest. He sets out determined to save the world and his best friend. 

And that’s Four 😭 goodness that ended up a lot longer than I expected. 

Please, and I’m begging 🙏🙏🙏, let me know what you think, your own headcanons, critiques, questions, ANYTHING. And who you’d like to see next! 

Thank you 💕