#intelligence work dID HE EVER FUCKING SLEEP?

[the-force-awakens]

just found out there was a kid's book that came out around the time as issue #25 of the poe comics and also features snap and karé's wedding but had poe officiating it because he decided Leia had too much to worry about

[scary-grace]

hands-off, hands-on - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

This was inspired by this art and a comment left on it about the risks of trying to jerk off with a quirk like Decay. It was also inspired by @obsessedtomone and @scarlettcryptid, who encouraged me to write it and then to post it. The pun in the title was my idea and not their fault.

Shigaraki's quirk makes life difficult in a lot of ways, but there's only one he can't find a way around, and since you joined the League of Villains, it's gotten even worse. When the truth comes out at last, he's expecting it to be a disaster and nothing else. He definitely isn't expecting you to offer to help. (cross-posted to Ao3) Canonverse, one-shot, smut.

Shigaraki Tomura’s quirk is everything to him. It’s how he found himself alone in the world as a five-year-old, even if he can’t remember the details. It’s why Sensei took an interest in him, why Sensei took him in, why Sensei chose him to carry on his work. It’s the perfect tool for someone like Shigaraki, who hates everything, who wants nothing more than to destroy everything he doesn’t like. Decay is the best thing that’s ever happened to Shigaraki. And at the same time, it absolutely, categorically sucks.

Shigaraki might hate everything, but he doesn’t hate it all the time, and the times when he doesn’t hate it are times when he’d love to be able to just have whatever it is without being one wrong move away from ruining it. Name a thing he likes, and his quirk is ready and waiting to fuck it up – gaming, eating, sleeping, even reading the fucking newspaper. He can do all those things four-fingered, if he stays focused. It’s the stuff he can’t stay focused on that’s impossible.

He can’t stay focused when he’s horny, at least not enough to keep from potentially Decaying his dick off. Shigaraki doesn’t actually know if his quirk works on himself, and he’s not interested in finding out. And that means that no matter how horny Shigaraki gets or how many poorly timed boners he pops, jerking off is permanently off the table.

That’s not to say Shigaraki’s never finished. He has. He’s spent so much time humping pillows that he had to learn to do his own laundry. But there’s something really pathetic about being twenty years old with two working hands and still be stuck grinding on a pillow to make himself come, and it always takes so stupidly long. Now that Shigaraki’s got the League of Villains, now that he’s got plans to make and Sensei’s legacy to fulfill, he doesn’t have that kind of time. When he wakes up with the world’s worst morning wood after a dream he doesn’t remember clearly, there’s nothing he can do but wait for it to go away.

It fades – enough – but the feeling doesn’t, and eventually Shigaraki doesn’t have a choice but to drag himself out of bed. He slinks from his room to the bar, hoping it’ll be empty, with the rest of the League out and about preparing for the mission and Kurogiri somewhere nearby if Shigaraki needs him but not actually right there to ask him what’s bothering him. Shigaraki can pour his own drinks. Maybe he can get out of this if he gives himself whiskey dick on purpose. Kurogiri’s not in the bar, just like he was hoping, but it’s not empty, either. You’re there, sprawled out over the bar with a sweating glass of water on a coaster in front of you.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches at the sight. “What are you doing here?” he demands, and you look up. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“I did it already.” You yawn. “Using my quirk tires me out.”

“Really?” Shigaraki can’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Making people stupid is that exhausting?”

Your quirk is a weird one. It lets you increase or decrease a target’s ability to plan, reason, problem-solve, remember things, and learn – in other words, their intelligence. “From this distance, for as many people as you need me to hit?” You yawn again and drop your head back down to the bar. “Yeah. Remember, I have to keep them all being stupid the same way, right up until it’s too late. Or your plan won’t work.”

Shigaraki had the pieces of the plan before he made you use your quirk on him, but once you used the quirk on him, he did some fine-tuning on the strategy, and he came up with the idea of using your quirk the opposite way, too. While the rest of the League is planning to make the attack on UA’s summer training camp a success, you’re using your quirk every day on the heroes in charge of planning the camp itself. Shigaraki’s not actually going to know if it works until after the attack, and that pisses him off. “Go nap somewhere else, then.”

“I’m not going to bother you,” you say. “Where else am I supposed to go, anyway? Your room?”

Shigaraki’s this close to saying yes, just to get you to leave, before he remembers what his room looks like – and remembers that he spent a while trying to see if grinding one out would work this time. He can’t kick you out of the hideout. You look like shit, and you’ll attract a lot of attention. “Fine. Shut up.”

“Yep.” You fold your arms on the bar and rest your head on them, shutting your eyes.

Even when you aren’t looking at him or talking, your presence bothers Shigaraki. It’s bothered him since the beginning – as much as he’s bothered by the others, in a different way than he’s bothered by the others. While the others can at least manage to avoid pissing Shigaraki off, there’s nothing you do that doesn’t cause some kind of problem. If you’re talking to him too much, he’s annoyed because he doesn’t know why you’re talking to him. If you’re not talking to him, he’s pissed about that, too. If you’re not around, he’s mad that you’re avoiding him, and if you are around, he wishes you weren’t. The fact that you’re here was a big problem for him even before he started having the dreams.

Shigaraki can’t remember the details of last night’s dream, but he knows you were in it. He pours himself a drink, takes the bottle with him, and sits down at the far end of the bar from you. You don’t look up again, and Shigaraki finishes his first drink, then half of his second, with no improvement on the situation. He shifts on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable. He needs to find something else to do. Something that will distract him from how stupidly horny he is.

You’re right there, and being irritated with you for doing anything at all is as good a distraction as anything else. “If all you’re doing is making a couple of heroes slightly dumber, you’re not really pulling your weight, are you?”

You don’t stir, but Shigaraki sees your shoulders stiffen. “What else should I be doing?”

“More,” Shigaraki says. You lift your head to look at him dead on, and Shigaraki hates that so much that he loses his train of thought for a second. “I don’t want them slightly dumber. I want them so stupid they can’t walk in a straight line. You have to get closer to them for that? So get closer. Get out of here and –”

“If I make them that stupid, the heroes will know that something’s wrong,” you interrupt. “My quirk’s in the government databases. If I do anything too obvious, they’ll know I’m working with you, and they’ll change their plans. Or they’ll change who they’re using to execute those plans. For my quirk to work on someone, I need to know who they are.”

Shigaraki knows how your quirk works. He’s not stupid. “I could do what you want me to do, but it would ruin your plans,” you say. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I wanted to take a nap,” you say. You sit up straight on your stool, get to your feet and start towards Shigaraki. “Now I want to know what I did to piss you off.”

You’re coming closer. Shigaraki feels a surge of panic. “Get away from me.”

“No.” You sit down one barstool away from Shigaraki, but still way too close for comfort. Shigaraki’s skin feels hot, and in spite of the fact that he left his room wearing sweatpants, they’re getting tight. “You let me join the League, but ever since I got here, I can’t do anything right. You’re mad at me all the time, and today you’re even madder than usual.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” you say. You keep staring. Shigaraki looks away, and you say the first thing he’s ever heard you say that makes you sound like a villain. “Either you can tell me the truth, or I’ll use my quirk on myself and figure it out.”

Shigaraki’s stomach lurches. “I thought you were too tired to use your quirk.”

“Not on myself,” you say. Shigaraki glances back at you. You’re almost smiling. He’s seen you smile before, talking to Toga or Magne, but not like that. “You can tell me, or I’ll find out on my own. Your choice.”

You’re not screwing around. Shigaraki thinks fast. He could Decay you, but – Shigaraki writes off the thought before he can even complete it. He has to tell you something, and it has to be convincing. But he doesn’t have to tell you everything to keep you from using your quirk. It’s going to be humiliating, but nowhere close to as humiliating as the whole truth, and he opens his mouth and spits it out. “I’m horny.”

You blink. “So jerk off.”

“I can’t.” Shigaraki sees your eyebrows lift, skeptical as hell, and loses patience, even as his face heats up. “My quirk. Anything I touch with five fingers –”

“And you can’t jerk off without –” You break off mid-question, looking just as uncomfortable as Shigaraki feels. “So you’ve never –”

“No, I have, I just –” This is way more information than you need to know. Shigaraki grits his teeth. “You wanted an answer. There’s your answer. Leave me alone.”

You don’t leave Shigaraki alone. You actually move over onto the stool next to his. “So you’re just going to be a dick to me any time you’re horny.”

It’s your fault Shigaraki’s horny. Before you showed up, he could deal with things on his own, but now instead of videos and games to fixate on he has fantasies – because he can imagine about what you’d look like under him, what you’d sound like, what you’d feel like. All of which are the worst possible things for Shigaraki to be thinking about right now. He’s completely hard, again. Maybe you can tell, or maybe you’re using your quirk on him after all, because you’re making a really weird face. “If you’re going to be a dick any time you’re horny –”

You break off. Shigaraki thinks, fleetingly, about Decaying you. At this point he’d rather Decay himself, because if even he kills you, he’ll still have to remember that this happened. You take a deep breath, let it go. “Do you want help?”

Shigaraki’s mind blue-screens for a second. “What?”

“If this is why you’re like this, then it’s easy to fix,” you repeat. Your hands are clenched into fists on your thighs, and you slowly uncurl them. “Do you want me to help?”

“Help with what?”

“Jerking off,” you say. You make an awkward gesture, and every muscle in Shigaraki’s body goes tense as he imagines your hands around his cock. You have to be messing with him. There’s no way you’re actually offering – that. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Shigaraki finishes his drink and stands up before he can think any more about it. He grimaces as his cock strains against the fabric of his pants, and feels a surge of embarrassment when he realizes you’re looking at it – but it’ll be over soon. In the face of getting some, and getting it from you, nothing else matters. “Let’s go.”

Shigaraki’s nerves kick in on the walk back to his room. Not enough to make the hard-on he’s coping with fade even slightly, but enough to remind him that this is probably a bad idea. But you’re following him, and you haven’t changed your mind. Shigaraki’s not chickening out first. The nerves get worse when he opens the door to his room and realizes what a mess it is. “Uh –”

“Where do you usually sit?” You don’t look impressed – or disgusted, now that Shigaraki thinks about it. “On the bed?”

Shigaraki sits down on the bed – which he didn’t make, because he never makes it – and you sit down next to him. You don’t do anything. “I thought you were going to help me.”

“Show me what you do,” you say. Shigaraki stares at you. His heart is racing, his pulse hammering so hard that he feels it everywhere. “Go as far as you can, and then I’ll keep doing what you do.”

That makes sense, probably. Shigaraki’s mind is startling to scramble. He decides to think about it later and catches the hem of his shirt, hiking it up and out of the way. He knows from experience that it’ll slide back, so he pins it between his teeth and reaches down to his waistband, shoving at it until his pants are down around his thighs and his cock is free.

His hard-on looks like it feels. Uncomfortable, leaking, hot to the touch when he wraps three fingers and his thumb around his shaft. Shigaraki tries a few of the same insufficient strokes as always and feels the muscles in his abdomen and thighs clench. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. A frustrated sound edges out around the fabric in Shigaraki’s mouth. Aren’t you supposed to help him? He looks at you. You’re looking away.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, the hem of the shirt falling from his mouth, and you look at him. “You wanted to help. Pay attention.”

Your face is flushed. You nod, and you reach out – but only so you can grasp the hem of Shigaraki’s shirt and pull it out of the way again, your knuckles brushing over his abdomen in a way that makes him twitch. You’re sitting closer to him now than you were before, close enough that he can almost feel the heat of your body, and imagine how it would feel to have you pressed against him. One of your hands is holding his shirt up. The other comes to rest on his lower abdomen, fingertips brushing through his hair, centimeters away from the base of his cock.

Shigaraki squirms involuntarily, trying to move your hand lower and jeopardizing his own strokes at the same time. Even when he lifts his hips to meet his own hand, he can’t lose control the way he wants to, can’t chase the feeling he needs. He needs it. He needs it and he’s never come even close to having it, until now. Shigaraki tries to focus. You’re only going to help once he’s gone as far as he can, so he’d better get there as fast as possible.

He shouldn’t have told you to pay attention. Now you’re watching everything, your face still flushed and your eyes glued to Shigaraki’s every move, taking everything in. Do you like this? Do you like watching Shigaraki’s pathetic attempts to get himself off? Whether you like it or not, you’re still touching him when you don’t have to. Shigaraki’s fingers tighten involuntarily around his cock, his fourth finger almost coming down, and he loosens up in a hurry. But that’s no good, either. He tries again.

It’s the same as always. Shigaraki makes it one or two strokes before it gets dangerous, enough to show him what he could have and not enough to get him there. He’s sweaty and his heart is beating too hard and the same frustrated tears as always are stinging his eyes. He curses, lets go – and a warm hand slides between his legs to replace his.

Shigaraki almost comes on the spot. It takes every ounce of willpower he has, and he almost blows it again as he watches you adjust your hold on him, shaping your hand more closely around his cock. You’re slow about it, but you sure as hell aren’t hesitant. Shigaraki can’t look for longer than a few strokes. It’s too humiliating to see the intensity of his own reaction, precum oozing from the tip of his cock and his hips jerking upwards into your hand. He clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes.

“Hey. Pay attention.” Are you making fun of him? Shigaraki opens his eyes and finds you looking at him. “I need to know if I’m doing it right.”

“What do you think?” Shigaraki forces the words out through gritted teeth. “Do you need me to tell you you’re doing a good job or something?”

“That might be nice,” you muse. Your hold on him loosens slightly – not enough to complain about, more than enough to read as a threat. “Since I can’t do anything else right around here, I at least want to be good at getting you off.”

Your grip tightens again, and you run your thumb lightly over the tip of Shigaraki’s cock at the end of the next stroke. Shigaraki couldn’t pull a move like that if his fucking life depended on it, which it would. He was going to tell you not to ask stupid questions, like if you’re good at getting him off when he’s two seconds away from blowing his load all over himself, but instead he moans, so loudly that people can probably hear it two streets away. You replay the same stroke, slower this time, pulling Shigaraki’s back into an arch to match the upward motion of your hand, and then you spend a few seconds just toying with his tip, barely touching him at all.

Are you trying to make him squirm? Shigaraki hates that it’s working, hates that you won’t just give him what he needs – but then you’re back to stroking his cock again, and Shigaraki relaxes, as much as it’s possible to relax. It feels good, even better than he thought it would. And even better than that, because he doesn’t have to do anything. All he has to do is sit back and enjoy it.

“Hold your shirt up,” you say, and Shigaraki grabs it clumsily. Your now-free hand traces quickly down Shigaraki’s chest, along his stomach, skidding sideways over his hip before sliding between his legs. There’s not room for both of your hands. Shigaraki spreads his legs without thinking twice.

You make a weird sound – maybe a gasp. “Stop that,” you say, but now you’re cradling his balls in addition to stroking his cock, so Shigaraki’s not interested in stopping much of anything. “It’s working.”

No shit it’s working. Shigaraki’s entire body is wound tight, so much that he can’t even twitch or thrust or squirm – all he can do is strain, agonizingly tense, every atom of his body focused on the motion of your hands. Shigaraki squeezes his eyes shut. His shirt crumbles away as he claws at it, the sheets on his bed going the same way a second later as he fights to ground himself. He needs more. Shigaraki needs to come right now, before he grabs onto something he can’t replace.

The word struggles out of his mouth sideways, twisted and strained just like the rest of him. “Please –”

You don’t answer him, but Shigaraki feels you shift closer to him. He opens his eyes and you’re right there, close enough that he can feel your breath against his skin. You’re watching him, head tilted, lips parted, so close. Shigaraki’s so close, and he needs more from you. He seizes the front of your shirt to pull you down to him, only for it to Decay when you’re halfway there. But Shigaraki gets lucky. You lean in the rest of the way and press your lips against his.

It’s not because of that. Shigaraki’s coming hard enough to see stars, hard enough that he blacks out for a second, but it’s not because you’re kissing him. His cum spills everywhere, onto his sweatpants and his stomach and over your fingers, and you keep stroking him with slick hands. You don’t pull away until Shigaraki’s whining against your mouth and you’ve drawn out every drop of cum he has to give.

And then you sit back, and let go, and look away. “I need a new shirt.”

You’re sitting next to him, on his bed, in just your bra. The sight would get Shigaraki hard again in an instant if you hadn’t just made him come hard enough to disconnect his spine. He raises a shaky hand and points to his hoodie, slung over the back of his computer chair, but you don’t go for it. Instead you get up and head to the bathroom to wash your hands.

Shigaraki needs to wash everything. His sweatpants, himself – the stupid mattress, since he was dumb enough to Decay the sheets off it right before he blew what feels like the biggest load in history. What else was he supposed to do, though? No way was he going to be able to control himself while you worked him over. No way is he going to be able to think about anything else the next time he sees you do anything with your hands. Or with your mouth.

It occurs to Shigaraki vaguely that while he’s solved the initial problem of being too horny to function, he’s set himself up for something even worse – more dreams, made all the more vivid because he’s got experience to back them up. He might be good to go for now. Probably for the rest of the day, since it’ll be a miracle if he can do anything other than clean up and take a nap. But he’ll be right back where he started the next time he wakes up from another dream about you.

The water from the sink shuts off, and a moment later you come back out, snagging Shigaraki’s hoodie off the chair and pulling it on over your bra. Shigaraki feels a faint twinge of foreboding at the sight, but it fades fast. Sure, he could wake up tomorrow morning with the boner from hell and it’ll be all your fault. But now he’s got a way out of it, and the way out of it is so good that what it takes to get there barely even matters. And he’s in a good enough mood to admit to himself that you do things right a lot more than you do things wrong.

Which reminds him – “Hey,” Shigaraki says, still humiliatingly breathless, and you pause in the act of pulling the hood up. “You did a good job.”

He might still be out of breath, but your face is still flushed. “Good,” you say, and you turn to leave. Shigaraki doesn’t hear you speak again until you’re already out the door. “Next time I’ll do better.”

Better might kill him. Next time. Shigaraki pulls up his sweatpants so his dick isn’t hanging out, makes no other effort at cleaning up, and falls asleep with something that feels like a smile on his face.

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

My usual amount of Rhys bashing, Low Self Esteem, Mention of child abuse, Azriel threatens to unalive somebody

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris. And even less Illyrians who clearly had no clue how flying worked. 

Azriel watched the spectacle from a safe distance away. 

He didn’t really have a choice about that after all. 

Not if he wanted to enjoy a cup of tea out on his porch. The porch of that little comfortable lake cabin right in the mountains of Velaris. 

He had settled in for a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do for once. No pressing issues, no intelligence to sort through that couldn’t wait for a while…just him and his thoughts…and her . 

It was a young female, probably just on the cusp between girlhood and growing into an adult, with the lankiness of her limbs not yet fully subsided. 

Azriel did give her credit for being smart enough to find herself one of the mountain lakes in the mountains of Velaris…which had been a brilliant thing to do because every time she threw herself off one of the cliffs on the other side of the lake, she plummeted right into that icy water, wings trying and failing horribly to keep her adrift. 

It was probably less smart to do this right now, however,  when winter was just around the corner. Nobody was stupid enough to go swimming now…not if they didn’t want to turn into an icicle. 

Still, every time without fail, she somehow managed to drag herself back out of the water, to dry land and up the cliffs to do it again. Azriel could respect that kind of single-minded determination. 

It reminded him of himself…of his own first few attempts at flying…after he had gotten out of that cauldron-forsaken cell. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to this girl…what had happened to her that made her learn to fly now , when that was something that should have happened years ago…something that should have been natural to her…

She could extend her wings fully, so he didn’t think that she had been clipped…though maybe somebody had done a truly horrible hack job at it and that explained why her wings didn’t seem to hold her body weight…How did an Illyrian female end up in Velaris in the first place? 

Question over questions and he didn’t know the answers to it. 

It was peculiar…And it was making him sit up straight, watching her clamber up that cliff again, the grey dress she wore soaked with water and clinging to her figure. 

What had brought her here? Was this a…He didn’t think that she knew that he was there and watching her…He had warded this house with everything he had, had thrown every fucking glamour at it that he could, making it impossible to be seen if somebody didn’t know that it existed…and not many people knew that it existed in the first place. 

It had become his…little escape. Far away from the House of Wind or the River House…far enough that nobody would search for him here, but near enough that…well. 

If they needed him, Azriel was just around the corner. 

And he could get some sleep in the silence of the mountains surrounding him. 

Cassian and Nesta were never going to manage to be quiet. And quite frankly, that was a very particular kind of torture after last Winter Solstice. 

His High Lord had made himself very clear…and Azriel…well, that stubbornness that had meant that he had clung to Mor for 500 years…he couldn’t manage the same anymore. 

The very heart of him was exhausted. Exhausted from always, always not being the one chosen. Exhausted from never seemingly being good enough, never measuring up. 

So silently, quietly, Azriel had let it go. Let go of wishful dreams and stolen touches…Let go of that particular wish. 

He would never have a mate. He would never have a wife. He would just exist in his loneliness. 

It was better for everybody involved. 

Regardless of how envy burned deep in his chest…regardless of jealousy, regardless of what he wanted . Azriel should have figured out centuries ago that he never got what he wanted anyway. 

So why hope anymore? 

Why hope and have that hope dashed and have his heart broken again? And again and again and again?

Why not simply accept it? Why not try to make the best out of it? 

If he would end up alone, he could do it on his terms. Thus, that charming lake cabin with only one room he actually used. 

He liked it. Scratch that. Azriel loved it. 

Loved the quietness, loved how roomy and bright it was, the perfect antithesis to all of the years spent in that cell. 

And if he made this his home… his home …well, only he needed to be content here. 

His home. 

Nobody else needed to like it. Just him. His and his alone. The perfect place to be lonely all on his own. 

Master!   His shadows snapped at that moment and he startled. She hasn’t come up yet.

What? he demanded, his gaze immediately snapping up to the lake. 

No trace of her anyway. 

She jumped and hit her head. 

Why didn’t you fucking say something? he demanded harshly. Great. Now he needed to rescue her.

Definitely not how he wanted to spend his Sunday afternoon doing. 

She must have managed to catch an updraft, because he didn’t need to pull her from the depths of that lake. Though maybe that would have been better…It would have left her with fewer scrapes. 

Instead, she had landed in a heap in the shallows of the lake, water just knee high and Azriel hissed at the ice-cold water lapping against his skin as he gathered her up. 

She was unconscious, her skin pale and ice-cold to the touch. Nearly frozen solid. 

He pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her the few feet to dry ground, a hand immediately finding her pulse point. 

He looked at her face, at the black hair and skin that was pale and clammy and…

Oh. 

His. His . 

There she was. 

After 500 years, there she was. 

He touched her with shaking hands, with reverence. Cupping her cheek, feeling her rattling breath against his scarred hands, turning her to her side as she started coughing. 

Still unconscious…a wound on her forehead bleeding nearly sluggishly. 

The water she had inhaled came back up and he made sure that she didn’t swallow it back down nearly automatically, unable not to stare at her. 

His…His mate?

His mate. 

Just a slip of a female, small and delicate, cheekbones and clavicles standing out sharply. She could use some more fat on her, to be completely honest. She looked… emaciated , not just simply thin. Starved . 

And if her body hadn’t been the first clue…her wings were the second. He stared at the scars that crisscrossed where they protruded from her back…He knew scars like that. He himself had scars like that. Her wings had been bound to her back so tightly that whatever rope had been used had rubbed at the delicate skin covering the bones…rubbing it raw. 

He swallowed at that realisation, the fury in his chest bursting wide open. It wasn’t the only scar on these wings…there were more. No wonder she had difficulty flying. It was so bad that he wondered if she would ever be able to fly at all. 

Who had done this to her? 

If he ever found out, he would plunge Truthteller into their chest and make them regret ever having been born. 

His mate coughed again, sounding miserable. “You’ll be fine,” Azriel promised her fiercely. If he had a single thing to say about it…she would be fine. He would make sure that she would be fine. She was his now. 

His mate. 

The one person that he was allowed to care for…the one person he could pour all that attention and love onto that he normally held so tightly buried in his chest. His mate . 

She was his and he was going to make sure that she was treated properly now. 

“Come on, Sweetheart, we’ll get you warm and dry,” Azriel promised her, picking her up again. She weighed next to nothing to him as he cradled her into his arms and made his way back to his cabin. 

Warm and dry and he would do something against the wound on her head and the scrapes on the rest of her. He couldn’t do anything against how thin she was, but he could probably manage to scrounge up some soup or something… Anything and everything so that she would be fine. His mate. 

His . 

Azriel reached his cabin seconds later, putting her down next to the mattress he used as a bed.

He really should have invested in some fucking furniture, but with a regrettable lapse of judgment he hadn’t. 

He hadn’t because just for him, he hadn’t seen a need for it other than the necessities. A mattress was more than enough, no reason for a bed frame. No reason to put that mattress in an actual bedroom, if one corner of his living room and kitchen would work just as well. 

Well, he could change that. He would change that. His mate deserved a bed, and a proper closet and everything else her heart desired. 

He would make sure she would want for nothing. 

Get her out of her dress and underneath the blankets, he told the shadow sharply, who for once seemed to be silent in pure shock. 

He wasn’t going to touch her anywhere. Not like this. Not more than absolutely necessary. 

Instead, he got himself dry, a pot of water boiling on the stove, all the vegetables he had stocked in the cooling cabinet and the chicken he had bought to roast thrown in right along with it. 

Then Azriel raided his stock of healing supplies, bringing them to her bedside. 

Now, safely dressed in an old dry shirt of his and tucked under every blanket his shadows could find in the house, her skin was still cold but no longer icy. Thawing. 

He dabbed at the wound on her forehand and wrapped the scrapes that covered her hands…hands that were blistering and covered with a rash. Hands that were definitely used to harsh physical work. 

These weren’t the hands of a lady. These were the hands of somebody that worked for a living. 

Azriel tucked her hands under the blankets with the rest of her, and gently tucked a straw curl back behind her ear…and then came up short when he realised that…that her ear…it was pointed . Not the usual rounded ear of a pure-blood Illyrian. Pointed like a High Fae. 

Oh . 

She must be half Illyrian, half High Fae. 

Exceedingly Rare… but not impossible. Rhys was the proof of that. 

Master! He startled a second time, glaring at his shadows. Why did they keep startling them? And why were they screaming at him in pure excitement? 

Only then, he saw the tendril of shadows. Hesitantly twirling out from her hair. 

Not one of his. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew. 

This wasn’t one of his shadows, this wasn’t…

Oh. 

Was she…

Are they… hers? he asked, nearly hesitantly. Was she…just like him? A shadowsinger ?

He had never gotten to meet another one. He had never…There had never been anybody that had explained to him how they worked, how he could master them…all of it…he had learnt through hard work and determination and not often the feeling that he was truly going insane. 

He had never thought that he would get to meet another shadowsinger ever. He had thought that maybe it was just a quirk of fate that also in this one ability, he would be unique, removed from everybody around him…Given that was how he felt any day of the week. 

Yes, they are, his shadows answered excitedly, a few tendrils of his slowly approaching hers…that seemingly wilted away, hesitantly. He wanted to reach out and cradle them in his hands…make sure that her shadows and his mate understood that no harm would come to her from him. 

How high were the chances that his mate, the one the mother picked for him, would be a shadowsinger just like him? 

He swallowed.  

Ask them for her name? he requested from his shadow hesitantly, wondering if they were able to communicate with hers…if he could talk to her shadows…if she could talk to his…

Cilla, the shadows answered after a moment. Cilla . Her name was Cilla. 

Then very quietly:  They are begging you not to hurt her. 

Somebody thrust a knife into his heart and twisted. 

Of course, they would ask that. Of course. 

They didn’t trust him at all. Why should they?

She wouldn’t be a shadowsinger if she hadn’t spent years feeling so alone that the shadows started talking back to her. Why should she trust him?

I am not going to hurt her. I swear that to them on my life, he promised fiercely. He would not hurt her. Never. 

She was his mate . 

He would spend the next few centuries trying desperately to make sure that he was worthy of her, nothing else. He was not going to hurt her. Not if he had any choice in that matter. 

His mate. His mate . He was going to take care of her, even when it was the last thing he did. 

Nobody was ever going to hurt her again, not if Azriel had a single thing to say about it. 

He was going to draw his line into the sand just like Enalius had down all these millennia before him at the Pass. And whoever would cross it, they would rue that day. 

It was easy enough to tug harshly at the dormant thread Rhys had long ago left in his mind…easy enough to let his brother into the ante-chamber of his mind once he had his attention. 

I won’t be available next week. 

Are you asking me for a vacation, Az? Rhys asked with some amusement. No. He wasn’t asking. 

He was going to take the next week and get to know his mate and nobody was going to stop him. Unless she told him no. 

It’s not a request. This is me informing you that I won’t be available, Azriel gave back, his voice even. 

He could nearly hear Rhys’ mental sigh. Is this still about you and Elain? Rhys asked him, long sufferingly.  

There is no me and Elain, Rhysand, Azriel shot back. Rhys had taken care of that. Though he probably did owe his High Lord a bottle of some ridiculous expensive alcoholic beverage for that. No Elain, which meant he was free to conduct his love life however he saw fit. Which meant that if Cilla was willing to give him a chance…

Then what it is about? Rhys asked him. 

Azriel could tell the truth. But he had absolutely no fucking want to do that. Rhys had made himself very clear last Winter Solstice. And Azriel didn’t want anybody to meddle. Cilla was his mate and nobody else’s and the only thing that mattered was what she wanted. Not what anybody else thought about her or their Mating Bond or anything else. 

I have some things to take care of that need my undivided attention, he said, his voice hard. Making it very obvious that Azriel wasn’t interested in answering any questions about it. 

And you couldn’t tell me that weeks ago? 

No. 

Fine. 

It’s not like it would have mattered to him if Rhysand had disagreed. Azriel was still not going to come in next week. 

It wasn’t like took many days off in the last few centuries. He was probably long overdue for a vacation. 

A soft noise pulled him away from that particular line of thinking and he looked down at Cilla, her nose scrunched up, shifting slightly. 

“It’s alright,” he promised her, keeping his voice calm and easy. “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he asked and one eye blinked open…showing him a pair of dark brown pupils.

 “There you go,” he praised her, “Good, Sweetheart.”

For one moment she looked at him utterly petrified, not understanding at all what was going on. Just a second later, he felt her fear and terror pour all over the fledgling Mating Bond, that must have just snapped for her. 

One hand flayed out and one of his shadows caught it, her eyes jumping from him to the shadows and then back again. He watched as she seemingly tried to work through it, one of her shadows gently caressing her cheek, clearly calming her down.  

“You…You’re just like me,” she whispered, her voice rough from disuse, wings twitching with something. 

“I am,” he agreed softly. 

And then, he saw the shadow curl behind her ear, whispering something in her ear. And then: “Mate?” she whispered, staring at him, her eyes wide, the expression on her face wanting and desperate and a thousand other things. 

His mouth went dry. He managed a nod. 

And then to his surprise, she pounced. There was nothing graceful about it as she clung to him, nearly slapping her with one of her wings, as he pulled her against his chest. 

“I am your mate,” he agreed with a weak chuckle.

Hers.

[xoxochb]

— two reverse ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: none! pairing: jason grace x fem! reader a/n: I feel like someone did this before can someone lmk because if so I’ll take this down

it was pathetic that someone your age was afraid of something uncontrollable, yet when it came to thunderstorms you couldn’t help yourself. it also happened that your boyfriend was the son of the roman lightning god, ugh. but it also worked out in a way because during these said thunderstorms you’d have the perfect excuse to sleep in his cabin. which leads to what you’re currently up to: hiding from the world in the warmth belonging to jason grace. your head is nestled tightly under his chin, his hands rest on the skin underneath your shirt

and it’s incredibly serene, the moment your in. and it almost makes you forget why you had came here in the first place, and you surely would have if it wasn’t for the loud thunder strike that caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. jason takes notice of your scared demeanor and quickly attempts to think of a distraction

“do you know how lightning is made?”

you furrow your brows and lift your head up to look at him. “are you going to nerd out on me?”

he rolls his eyes but a soft smile on his lips gives his mood away. “yes, I am”

you smile yourself and nuzzle your head back into his skin before beckoning him to explain. he kisses the top of your head before beginning:

“well it starts off in the cloud when positive and negative charges separate from each other and this creates an electric field between the top and base of the cloud. when the charge becomes strong enough lighting strikes. the negative charges in the cloud are attracted to the positive charges in the ground— have you ever heard of “opposites attract”? that’s basically what happens— but anyways, the protons rush up to meet the electrons and that’s basically it”

jason feels you smile against his skin when he finishes explaining, not long after you speak, “you are such a fucking nerd!” you laugh and sit up again, cupping his cheeks between your hands “what other nerdy facts do you have for me?”

“what? you just called me a nerd why would i tell you anything else?”

“you’re intelligence is sexy, now go on”

a pink hue covers his cheeks. nonetheless, he thinks for a moment before his next (unpleasant this time) topic comes up: “did you know rats killed about seventy five million europeans in the middle ages?”

[jimmybutlrr]

I Love You But Do You Love ME?

Part 2 to The Love, I have Longed For

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Tall Thick Brown-Skinned Women

Warnings : 18+. Romance, Mature Content (Cursing and Teasing), "drama", Fluff, Sensitive Topic

Summary: The After Math Of The Problems You Create.

A/N: There will be a part there as I did not want this too long, as always, to improve I would love constructive criticism. There also will be a part 3, which will be the final chapter or not?

*Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future writings.

Divider from @@uzumaki-rebellion

How could he cheat on me? We've been together for 4 years and married for 2. I gave him my early twenties…how could I be so dumb to believe he was different”. Estella cry’s into the arms of Amir in the parking lot of her home.

 “That British buffoon, Fucked up something good for a few quick fucks with his co-star not being man enough to leave first”. He picks up Estella’s head, making her look in his eyes, “He’s gonna try to convince you to take him back back, don't, stand up to him and never lower your confidence for a man ever. Ok you are too beautiful and intelligent to do so”. She nodded her head , agreeing with his statement. “Ok, I’m ok” Estella mumbled wiping her tears.

Days after, Estella goes to pick up her things while Aaron is at work. 

 “Now let's get out of this car and pack up your things before that big - green eyed bastard child comes”. They share a hug and a laugh then exit the car. As they walk to the door, a few cars pull out, her friends exit the cars. They walk up to her with a pity look, ready to help her pack her shit. 

A few hours later they are in the last box ready to leave when Aaron pulls up in the driveway. 

Getting out of the car, he recognizes the cars in the driveway, one being his wifes. He rushes to the door and up the stairs, trying to make it to his wife. Seeing him, everyone rolls their eyes, signin in unison that he's here, he walks up to her standing directly in front of her, seeing her disguised expression, his heart breaks a little, tears threatening to fall out his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, when she puts her hand up to stop him from speaking “The audacity that you have to stand here in front of me after cheating on me with tears in your eyes when I should be the one crying.  You made the drastic decision to cheat on me, for god knows how long, with your co - worker of all people. to put more salt in the wound”. 

Her face starts getting hot, but she takes deep breaths to calm herself down.

 “You ..Said..You.. Loved..her, right after saying the bullsshit you said to me” Her voice breaks. 

“Honey..I..want to apologise, I regret what i did” He gets down on his knees, grabbing her body close. “ I love you with everything in me, ignore me, make me sleep on the couch but please don’t leave me, I love you with everything in me. You are my heart, my soul, I don’t know how to live without you” Tears fell down his face. “ Are you dumb or fucking stupid, which one quick”, Estelle snaps her fingers pushing him off of her, “To say that knowing you have been cheating long enough to exchange I love you’s is mental”, she turns to pick up her last box, to meet up with her friends. When she turns back around, he slaps the box of her hands “it was a simple mistake, your really going to leave me for it, baby I love please stay” With tears still falling down his face, she picks back up her box ignoring him, and his foolishness. “I”ll be filing for divorce in due time, I don't know when you will receive the papers” before he could protest. She walks out, leaving him gripping his chest to calm himself down due to the best thing on earth walking out on him.

A few months later, She managed to find her own apartment to stay in and started to finger out how she's going to continue life without him. She filed for divorce and is now waiting for Aaron to sign the papers. In the house that they once shared, the doorbell rings and he goes to open it. “Are you Aaron pierre? The strange man questioned leaving Aaron confused “yes, may i help you” aaron questioned confused “You have been served” Aaron takes the papers from the man watching him walk down his driveway, getting into his car driving away. Aaron locks the door, walks to his living room, and sits down with one thin thigh over the next, while he opens the orange envelope, reading it to realise that it’s divorce papers.

 He clutches his chest, as the room starts spinning, he squeezes his eyes closed, bending over into the couch, forcing himself to take deep breaths which slightly works as he feels a sharp pain in his chest every time he inhales. After a few moments he manages to calm himself down, tears dripping down his face like he's been holding them in for years. He takes the papers and throws them into his garbage. 

She texts him “Did you get the divorce papers” “I have received it, they are not getting signed though” Aaron texts back. “Be soo for real, how about we meet up at the diner on kingston st and discuss this because I'm tired of talking to you”. “Ok, I love you”. She leaves him on read, making him wipe his face, and walk up to his room to lay down. 

“Can I have the 10 wing combo with honey garlic and extra sauce on the side?” Estella said to the waitress, who wrote her order down “Thank you” she said to the waitress, who walked to the kitchen. Feeling disturbed, she looks up from her phone and see’s Aaron staring at her. “Can you put down the phone so we could have a civil conversation?” Aaron mumbled to Estella, which she obeys to. “You're right, so who's getting the house and I would like to terminate our shared financials. You also need to sign those papers”. 

“No, I want my wife back” Estella opens her mouth to speak but the waitress comes by with their food. “Thank you” Estella said to the waitress, sighing “Can you not do this right now, let's figure out what we are going to do with our financial situation first before you start with your bullshit”. Time goes on and they settle out their situation breaking their agreement and leaving Aaron with the house, which he ends up selling. 

At the end of night Aaron pays the bill and  Estella rushes out before he could say another thing. They settle out their situation, breaking their contracts and leaving Aaron with the house, which he ends up selling. 

6 years had passed making Aaron and Estella are now 30 years old.The diner was the last time Aaron saw Estella in person. Due to her being absent, not knowing where she is and what her new life was like. He moved on, went to therapy and started putting his focus in the gym, getting bigger roles and being healthy.  

Estella on the other hand, moved to another state, finished law school, while enjoying motherhood to the fullest.

Tags -

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@blackgurlnhermoods

@easybrezzy

@planetblaque

@urfavblackbimbo

@jenlovey

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@mscarter213

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

so all ive been able to think about is gotham for the past several days, and more specifically how gothamite culture has to be SO drastically different and jarring to literally anywhere else in the world. Like even other super cities like metropolis, or central city, or wherever else are at least KINDA normal. Like yea u have superman or wonderwoman or the flash but they dont really have to deal with the same level of bs as Gotham.

That being said here are a list of things that I think are extremely normal to Gotham, and other things that happen in thay horrible little city:

• the episode of Hot Ones with Brucie Wayne where no one thinks he’ll even be able to stand the 2nd or 3rd wing but he eats all of them with no reaction, and Sean Evans (or the in universe equivalent) just sits there like “wow no one has ever had literally no reaction before this is really crazy, and Bruce Wayne of all people?” Afterwards Bruce has second thoughts and realizes that maybe he should have played up his reaction to the spice a bit more. People Inside of Gotham are a little shocked because everytime he eats in public it is the most boring, bland, flavorless food imaginable. (he handled the spice so well because Batman is ready for all potential threats and forms of torture. Ridiculous levels of spice included)

• Gotham schools offer courses in self defense. In some school districts its actually mandatory, thats usually in old gotham or downtown gotham. In more affluent areas, self defense is still taught in schools, but most kids are sent to some ritzy trainer to make sure they can defend themselves.

• No one even blinks when theres a new vigilante by the time Damian comes around. Theres still a little buzz but by the time Duke shows up, people are like “Oh cool another one. HEY BRO WHATS YOUR NAME.” I saw someone post here about how when the Wayne kids get mad at Bruce, they go to Selina and make public appearances as Stray, Catwomans sidekick. I personally believe that Tim was the first one to do it but Dick does it the most, and gothamites didnt even need to get used to Stray showing up sometimes, nor did people really care that Stray was always wildly different heights, shapes, colors, etc. the additude is kinda like “I have taxes and job security to worry about. If a new vigilante is what were doing then so be it.”

• People tend to think that Gothamites aren’t smart, but that city is home to the Richest, smartest, most creative people alive. They mostly just lack morals. Like Dr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, hell even The Riddler are all insanely intelligent. Half of Gothams Villains have at minimum 2 Doctorates in something or other. Gotham generates a lot of cash as a whole, and small businesses thrive there. They have high employment rates, and most citizens have their associates despite everything happening around them. People who have never been to Gotham before expect to have to talk down to the citizens but Gothamites just kinda roll their eyes at them and carry on about their merriment.

• Gothamites CONSTANTLY says “because I’m Batman” when they don’t want to explain themselves. Kids hear it a lot from parents and they also get “If you don’t go to sleep, Condiment Man i gonna come and cover you in stinky relish.” Because truly what else is condiment man good for.

• Gothamites who work at BatBurger and typically work the night shift are used to visits from Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Cat Woman, Harley Quinn, etc. Sometimes they remember the workers and ask about their family, and how life is, and other things like that. Theres some barely 18 y/o who just graduated high school who worls at Bat Burger, and asked Red Hood to help him impress his gf by saying theyre friends. He like fuck it why not and tells the gf that the kid helped him save an old lady’s cat in a tree and now theyre bffs. She totally believes it. Score.

• I see the Gotham thinks Batman is Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend theories and raise you: Its pretty common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is Batman, just no one has the heart to tell him. Also theyre scared he will quit if anyone brings it up. So from this Gothamites created the joke that BW and batman are dating and when asked about it in an interview, dick grayson is like “……yes! My adoptive father is dating the guy who dressed up like a bat every night…!”

• this cuased and arguement between Bruce and Dick because no! Bruce isnt dating Batman! (stray was seen again that week) HE IS BATMAN! But fuck now the public thinks theyre a couple so now bruce gets asked about it and hes like “haha yes my spooky bat bf is who i love very dearly!” As punishment He makes Dick bring him flowers in the batsuit because “as far as he is concerned, this is his shithead son’s fault.” Thats a direct quote btw. Little does he know this somehow ties back to Tim Drake before they met.

[777gojosgf]

ALWAYS AN ANGEL NEVER A GOD

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: tired!reader x satoru gojo

IN WHERE :: no matter how hard you try, your efforts will never be recognized as much as the ones of the strongest sorcerer.

a/n :: angsty time!

YOU STARED AT THE mission report containing information on your latest mission handed out by the principal and that pitiful feeling swarmed in your belly. it didn’t make sense. you had a perfect score on everything but somehow it wasn’t considered enough and you were still not named a special grade.

it certainly couldn’t be your fault, not when you had spent morning and night training at the grounds of jujutsu high. you barely had an ounce of sleep as you had tackled the training dummies for hours, trying to boost your stamina by running for miles and trying to adapt to your cursed technique. you had never taken a break, always having your eye on the prize.

you were always ahead of everyone at a young age when you still attended a normal public high school, excelling at every subject and the teachers always praising you for your efforts and high marks. but everything was different now that you were suffocated by the terrors and demands of the jujutsu world.

in the realm of jujutsu, you had become lost in an abyss, and you were no longer the greatest. the smartest, the one you had to defeat to win. no, you had lost your prodigy label and had to start over because intelligence was not the sole requirement for survival. to learn how to fight and defend yourself, you must have physical strength. act rationally rather than emotionally.

as a result, you trained yourself until you were blue and bruised, and there was never a day when you didn't start the day with a morning workout and/or a night session. you had this need to be the greatest at everything, unsure of whose approval you sought. it did not matter. you only wanted the gratification of doing good and being respected for it, to be feared rather than despised. however, your hard work was in vain because you were not promoted to a higher level.

what the fuck did they want from you?

and when was it ever enough?

before you realised it, you had crushed the mission report, which had fallen from your strong hold onto the floor. you weren't sure if you were angry or sad; maybe it was a combination of the two that was boiling deep inside and surging through your body. it was so puzzling because you had trained yourself and knew the answer to everything. missions were no trouble for you, and even single missions went well; why the heck haven't you been named a special grade yet?

“what has gotten you into such a buzz?” you heard coming from down the hallway as you turned around only to face the sorcerer you had envied the moment you had become a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. of course it was the fucking six eyes himself.

with lengthy steps, he effortlessly filled the gap between the two of you, his gaze drawn to the crumbled paper on the ground. he used his skill to raise it up and unfold it so he could read what it stated, but he didn't understand why you were so upset about it. it was an excellent mission report, with no further casualties or difficulties. what was the big deal?

"you. the higher-ups. fucking everything, okay?! i’ve worked my fucking ass off for years. i still have the scars from when i initially visited these grounds and worked out till i fucking blacked out, just to resume once i woke up. do you realise how damn fortunate you are? how do you get practically everything? you can do whatever the fuck you want because you are goddamn gojo satoru— that is my problem." you yelled angrily with shaking legs and hands, angry tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew it wasn't fair because he hadn't chosen this kind of life and how everything turned out was simply a matter of luck, but you couldn't keep your indifference hidden.

if he had felt hurt by that, you wouldn’t have known because there wasn’t any kind of feeling displayed on his face. instead, he leaned against the wall with a blank expression and averted his gaze away from you, a small sigh escaping him.

suddenly it had felt as if the world collapsed on you as you slid against the wall and eventually sat on the ground with your arms on top of your knees, your head buried into your arms as the angry tears had trailed down your face. it wasn’t fair. nothing was fair. the higher ups, him, but also the way you reacted wasn’t something he deserved that and you knew that deep down. but still— it was bound to come out sometime.

“i’m so tired…” you whispered to practically no one at all with a shaky breath, your eyes closing as you felt a headache starting due to the amount of crying and a strained voice by yelling. you had expected him to leave and find something useful to do, to not take this venting bullshit from you.

instead, you sensed his presence next to you as he sat down with his legs spread out on the floor. his back was leaning against the wall as he looked up, but he hadn't said anything yet, and you weren't sure whether he was going to. it did have a strangely soothing sense with him seated next to you.

soon enough, he had silently wrapped his arm around you and moved you closer to him. you hadn’t questioned any of his actions, you couldn’t when it felt as if there was a cloud above your head. Instead you nestled into his side and looked up at him teary eyed. “i’m sorry.” you breathed out defeated and gave him a weak smile which he only shaked his head to in response.

"don’t worry about it. you have a point, but i didn’t chose this either. you know? but it's true that they haven't been treating you fairly; i expected you'd be promoted months, if not years ago." he remarked, but he couldn't meet your gaze even though he had removed his blindfold, his white hair strewn haphazardly across his head. you merely nodded, about to open your month and clarify that it wasn't his fault, when he placed a finger on your lips, causing you to scowl.

it made him chuckle, the scowl you had on your face. he admired your feistiness and ability to stay strong even though things weren’t working out. perhaps it made you even stronger than him in a way.

“i know what you’re going to say, but i shouldn’t have showed off my abilities everywhere. however, i’ll fix this. alright? you just go and have a good night sleep.” he reassured you which only left you confused. how was he going to fix this and what for? you had basically just thrown a tantrum like a small child.

your thoughts were interrupted as you felt him drop a kiss on your head, causing blood to surge to your cheeks. you were about to comment on it, but he had already stood up and reapplied his blindfold, making his way to whatever he was planning to do.

"hey, satoru!" you yelled out from behind, still seated on the floor, arms on top of your knees. he came to a halt in his tracks and casually turned around; if you hadn't known better, you could have imagined there was a faint red glow on his own face.

“thank you.”

“no worries, y/n.”

the next morning, you awakened and put on your uniform, eager to get out of your room, until you discovered the mail slipped beneath your door. you frowned as you kneeled to the ground and picked up the letter. as you read what it stated, a huge grin appeared on your face, and a sense of victory ran through your body.

you were officially named a special grade.

you had no idea how satoru had done this or how he dealt with it, but you were extremely grateful. you realised you may not have earned what he had done for you after complaining about him in such a dramatic manner, but you couldn't help how you felt.

though it wasn’t long before you managed to figure out a way on how to thank him.

[hey-august]

Inspired by this Anon - may I present to you: Scarecrow Buggy

WC: ~1k Warnings: scarecrow!buggy, he's literally a scarecrow, buggy x gn!reader, verbally abusive ex boyfriend, implied murder, mentions of blood

You needed something for your little plot of land, so why not a scarecrow. While working on the burlap head you decide to make it a clown. Extra scary, right? It should work even better.

And he does fine! He does his job. The scarecrow stands guard in your field and, well, scares the crows. He also scared you a few times. At first, you kept thinking he was a stranger on your property. Eventually, you became accustomed to the looming figure keeping watch over the house.

He also kept you company while tending to the field. It was nice to have someone to talk to, or to work next to in silence. Some days you'd have lunch outside with him. A fun little picnic.

You invited your boyfriend to join you and he spent the entire meal talking about how ugly the scarecrow was. What a stupid choice it was to make a clown. Look, even the nose is all lumpy - how could you mess up a red circle? And his frown is crooked. It's stupid.

You didn't invite your boyfriend over for anymore picnics. You also apologized to your scarecrow. It felt silly, he's an inanimate object, but you felt like you had to. You wanted to. Your scarecrow wasn't ugly. Or stupid. Also, he's not frowning. Maybe your boyfriend needed to get his eyes checked.

Turns out you were right. There was something with his vision - your boyfriend had a wandering eye and "accidentally" found himself in someone else's bed. Of course he apologized when you found out. It was one time (this week). It didn't mean anything. It was just sex. And a couple of dates. With his ex. He was sorry (that he got caught).

In fact, your boyfriend was so sorry that he came by your house late one night to apologize again. While slamming his fist against your locked door. His pitiful cries soon became angry demands for you to open the door. He just wants to talk. You need to understand how much you mean to him. He's sorry, why can't you forgive him? He's forgiven you for loads of shit. No one else will love you like he does. Stop crying. Let him in and he'll comfort you. It'll be okay, he's sorry. He's so sorry.

You didn't open the door. You hid inside, waiting for him to leave. Hoping that each knock would be the last. One eventually was. A knock that sounded more like a thud, followed by an intelligible angry shout. You hear his truck start, the sound of tires on gravel, then silence.

You hardly sleep that night. How could you? And when the sun rose, you didn't feel any better. You felt worse. Because when you looked out the window, the field was empty. Your scarecrow was gone. That fucking asshole must have taken him and left you alone.

Both your scarecrow and ex were missing.

After a few days, your ex was found and you didn't need to worry about him bothering you ever again. That same day the scarecrow showed up again. He was back in the field, but he looked…different. A bit ragged and saggy.

It was going to rain that night and it didn't look like he'd handle the weather well, so you decided to bring him inside. Just for the night. You carefully set him on a chair and looked over your dear scarecrow. He definitely does look more tattered. There were some stains on the cuff of his shirt. Something dark and dried.

You took off the shirt to give it a wash. You also opened his burlap body, while explaining what you were doing, to take out any dirty straw and replace it with fresh hay. Some of his hay was stained… You tossed the red handfuls into the fire without a word and without a question.

The only thing you remarked on was how this scarecrow was different from the other ones you made. The other ones were pecked by crows and eaten by bugs. But this one was special. He did his job and he wasn't even invested. Even though he wasn't, you couldn't help but laugh and call him "Buggy." Something about making up for the absence of creepy crawlies.

The scarecrow's head flopped to the side when you called him by his new name.

So what if his painted smile was crooked (more crooked than you remember) and his nose wasn't a perfect circle? Your Buggy was perfect. And with fresh hay and a clean shirt, he was looking pretty handsome. And as awkward as it felt, you gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

Next was your turn for fresh clothes and you tried not to overthink changing in front of Buggy. He's just a scarecrow. He's not real. His head did not just tilt. And if it did…that had to be because the hay is still settling. Yeah, that's it. You can even hear the rustling.

The same rustling you hear early in the morning, just before your blanket was pulled up higher on your body. Something gentle swept across your body before the shuffling sound made its way to the door and left the house.

When the sun was brighter and you woke up properly, the house was empty and Buggy was back in the field, looking as happy as a clown in a circus.

From then on, you made sure to bring in your sweet scarecrow every night. He had a comfortable spot to sit and rest his bones straw. Some nights you must have brought him to bed because you'd wake up cuddling the straw man. Despite the stiff and uncomfortable materials, you found Buggy's presence comforting and would quickly fall back asleep to the smell of dirt and grass.

Sure, a living scarecrow might be unsettling. Especially a murderous one. But you liked your scarecrow boyfriend. Sorry - your clown scarecrow boyfriend.

[alienpossession]

My stepson is a rather troublesome kid, especially after his mother's passing. He soon dropped out of college, losing the sense of direction he had and just straight out spiralled into a mess. Not to mention that his coping mechanism involved him to hung out with the wrong crowd and start smoking too despite his mother in the past clearly forbid him since he was a prospective star athlete. He also started to grow agitated to the world and overall just disrespect authorities, which included me as the last person that is bold enough to reprimand him while on his way to do his antics

After one of our early morning argument as he arrived back home from clearly a long night he did doing God knows what, he just stormed into his room after giving me a middle finger and cursed under his breath. I decided that enough is enough and I did what I knew best to handle reckless and wild human like that

You see....I was not from this planet. I arrived around 20 years ago into this farmland where I stumbled with this young studly farmer that just about to start his days. I slid into him and never left his body as I decided that I would be safe and undetected as long as I did not slid out of him while the search for me was still active. I was paranoid that if I ever left this body, suddenly the detection system spotted me so I resisted the temptation to leave and remained hidden inside while controlling this human that I cultivated into the best version it could be. But this little punk really pushed me to my limit. I'm just so desperate trying to prove my humanity and ability to disciplined the smaller and younger human I supposedly have authority over, I pushed myself out and slid into the sleeping body of my stepson. Once I slid in, I went straight to his brain and started to work it while he's sleeping soundly with zero awareness that a far more intelligent being is currently rewiring his organ responsible for free thinking into one filled with obedience and submissiveness. I was not necessarily the expert on brain's anatomy but I know which part I should and should not touch. Once I felt like my job has been precisely executed, I slid out of his brain and entered back to my original vessel.

Now, imagine my surprise that not only I made that punk into a more docile and submissive version of himself, I somehow made him gay too as I checked on him after the rework I did to his brain. And I guess I graced the part where he can pick up aroma even more strongly this time and that caused him to be a musk-whore for everything's sweaty and pungent. His obsession to his own pits clearly were a sight to behold as it was a far cry from his womanizer self I have to witness for the past few years he brought home girls to his bedroom.

Aside from his own self, he also loved me. Not the usual familial love, this boy is clearly fucked in the head as he viewed me as some sort of authority to please. It's like him calling me daddy is laced with sexual innuendo rather than the usual way a kid called up his parents. So, like the good father I am and to avoid getting him jumped on me while I sleep as I didn't satisfy his needs, I decided to change our family time where I asked him to have dinner with me to him sniffing my feet and servicing my needs. It's not as cool (and normal human looking) as having him seated next to me watching the TV together or having warm dinners, but that's the way we live nowadays and not like he's complaining anyway.

I guess I really need to do better with all this brain rewiring

[hijinxinprogress]

Young Justice spends all of their time violating the Geneva conventions or mocking their mentors bc they’re traumatized theater kids without any capacity for a verbal filter which is also why they’re not allowed to watch movies at the tower

YJ is watching some hero movie and a character with a gruff voice sternly says “we don’t kill…we’re better than that” so Tim gives the most dramatic sigh and goes “this is giving me back the migraine from our last lecture from the league” which leads to YJ doing their best to dramatically reenact disappointed justice league lectures

Cissie, offhandedly: Most superheroes having that dumbass code that’s some variation of “we don’t kill, we’re better than that…” make me fucking nauseous because who’s we? I’ll have you know my mother assures me that I’m a piece of shit everyday so no I’m not better than this.

Greta, in a mocking disappointed tone: Cissie! I’m very surprised at your behavior, we’ve taught you better than that! We’re here to protect people not to hurt them

Kon, in his best angry Cissie impression: Well, who’s gonna protect my sleep schedule? You woke me up at 3am to stop some idiot that wanted to steal kryptonite? Are you serious?They’re not going to jail they’re going to the nearest cemetery that I can promise you

Anita, in a dramatic hero pose: I’m not like you…you made me realize something, I have friends and people that love me so I’m not going to-

Bart, doing an excellent mimicry of Anita’s unimpressed face: He killed your family wdym you’re better than that, that’s dumb as hell you even look at anyone I know with the tiniest hint of malice you’re leaving in a bodybag

Kon, turning to Bart and making his voice echo the way Greta’s does when she’s annoyed: what is this nonsense I wouldn’t let anyone get away with doing that to you guys I promise they’d suffer immensely

Cassie, hovering in the air doing a terrible impression of disappointed superman: We can’t kill because then we’re no better than they are

Anita, glaring at Cassie with her best Kon impression: I’m okay with that…let’s not pretend you don’t expect this from me, am I supposed to care? They deserve to suffer, why should I be the only one that has to suffer?

Anita, pretending to storm off dramatically while Cassie tries to look disapproving:

Cissie, doing her angry Bart impression: You’re not gonna waste people I actually like then get to chill in jail and breakout in a couple days

Tim, in a dramatic ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ tone: I’m not sure how you did things in the future but you can’t do things like this, do you understand?

Cissie, snorting and crossing her arms in the agitated way Bart does: I understand that our first fight will be our last because we’re not doing this shit again I’m not superman

Greta, in a gruff Batman voice: People can change if you give them a chance

Cassie, in a sarcastic Tim impression: I’ll start a timer I’ll even give him five minutes why are you playing with me rn Batman

Bart, sighing disappointedly: You're so angry and I wish you’d find an appropriate outlet for all this aggression. You don’t know what taking a life will do to you, what it’ll take from you….

Tim, in an irritated Kon impression: why not? we can find out let’s do an experiment and find out I like science I’m game hbu??

Cassie, who does the second best Batman voice: Neither of you can even begin to understand-! How do you know you won’t end up ending low tier criminals like pickpocketers? We can’t play judge, jury, and executioner… what happens when you’re wrong? What’s going to stop you?

Greta, fiddling with a phone and shrugging before giving Cassie Tim’s patented ‘I can ruin your life and you’ve just given me a reason’ look while doing her impression of the way Tim stands when he’s pissed and rolling her eyes: Self control? Common sense? When have my hunches ever been wrong? Don’t play with my intelligence, it will not work out for you

Bart, doing his best to copy the way Cassie stands and messes with their hair when they’re pissed: I’m just saying, if you blow up a city block you lose air privileges I have debris in my shoes rn for what?

[JL was meeting with a bunch of reporters in the tower and later had to do a lot of damage control after the press released a statement about the JL failing to rehabilitate young villains]

[scarsrealm]

survival instincts. | yandere!leon scott kennedy.

CHAPTER ONE - THE MAN HUNGERS..

tw: yandere leon, swearing, obsession, inaccurate leon, possessiveness, brief mention of sexual content, etc.

(let’s act like leon was in the D.S.O at this time)

***

December 18th, 2004

11:45 pm

Leon’s eyes were glued to your window, he watched as you slept peacefully in your bed. He bit his lip, imagining he was there, lying next to you, holding you, kissing you, making you feel pleasures that no man could ever do to you. You were his colleague at the D.S.O, you both didn’t talk much unless it was to share intel and only for a brief moment.

He would admire you from a distant, wishing you were his. He knew that you would be his one day, but he didn’t know when. So, following you around was just gonna have to do until he was able to get real close to you. He had been doing this for already a few weeks and each time he looked at you, his hunger and desire for you became more and more stronger.

You were turning in your sleep and his heart couldn’t help but flutter at your movements. It was so simple and yet to him it was adorable and admirable. Anything you did was worth watching and entertaining. He yearned so badly to be in the bed with you, the things he would do to you..just you and him, no one else.

But it had started to get late, Leon decided it was time to leave, unfortunately. He took one last glance at you before slowly walking away from your house, going towards his car. As he was driving, he couldn’t help but think of the same image of you laying on your bed, sleeping, so purely. It was just a thought of you but it made him excited, too excited.

He gripped his steering wheel tighter, his knuckles becoming white as his pants were feeling a little tight. No, no, not..now. He needed to hold back his urges. He had to wait until he was home, alone, where no one could watch him and his fantasies about you.

As he finally arrived home, the first thing he did was go to in the shower and relieve his stress. He wanted to get it done with, so he could get a good night's sleep, because tomorrow was gonna be a busy day for him.

He stripped down to nothing, then walked over to his shower and turned it on, the water was warm enough, but not too hot. Once he stepped inside, he sighed softly, letting the water run down his body, relaxing him. His thoughts quickly turned back to you, and his hands wandered to his lower region, slowly stroking himself, thinking of you.

He bit his lip hard as his hand moved faster and faster, the feeling of you being in his grasp was too good to let go of. No, this is pathetic..but how could he resist? He could imagine the way your voice sounded as he pleasured you, the way your mouth would hang open as your eyes would roll back in ecstasy, and the way your face would contort into a pleasure filled expression as you reached your peak. Stop, stop, stop..you're thinking about her, you're getting off to her. You're disgusting.

He stopped touching himself and just stood there, the water still pouring down on him, his hands gripping the shower walls. “Fuck..” he muttered under his breath. This is bad. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it was all so confusing. It was all too confusing and too overwhelming. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. He didn't know how to make it stop.

And even if he could, he wouldn't. You were too perfect for him. You were the first person who had ever sparked something within him. But that part of him knew that it was wrong to be having these thoughts and desires for her. He had never had those sorts of feelings towards women before, and now all of a sudden, you came into his life and everything had changed.

You were beautiful and intelligent, and he loved the way you smiled and laughed, and the way you always looked so serious when you were working. And when you wore that black bodysuit with that blue jacket, you were just irresistible. He had always admired how strong you were, and how you didn't let anything stand in your way. You were a true warrior, and he wanted to fight by your side, protect you, and show you that he would always be there for you.

But the thought of losing you was the one thing that made him hesitate. The thought of not being able to see you anymore, or talk to you, or touch you. He wouldn't let that happen. No, he would make sure that no matter what, you would always be his. No one could take you away from him, and no one would. He wouldn't allow it.

Leon had always had a strong sense of justice and a strong moral code. But when it came to you, all that went out the window. He would do anything to keep you by his side. And if anyone got in the way, he would eliminate them without hesitation.

He would stop at nothing to have you all to himself. But then he thought for a moment. I..I follow her, this isn’t a good thing to do, I need to stop. But he ignored his conscience and just continued his fantasies about you.

It was just so easy to get lost in the feeling of having you near him, that false feeling of knowing that he was the one who made you smile and laugh and blush. It was just so easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his and only his.

He had to stop thinking about you. This was beginning to get out of hand. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had never felt this way about someone before, and it scared him. He didn't want to hurt you, or put you in any kind of danger. He was supposed to be protecting you, not fantasizing about you.

But it was just so hard not to. You were so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and strong, and caring. You were the whole package, and he just couldn't get enough of you. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. And he didn’t think he’ll be able to stop anytime soon.

He finally finished up and turned off the shower, stepping out and grabbing his towel. He dried himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist. He was exhausted, but he had to get ready for work tomorrow. There was a small chance he was going to be working with you, and he wanted to make a good impression.

He has a lot of things to do tomorrow, and he wanted to get started early. He had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, and he wanted to make sure everything was in order before the mission. But he was going to try and keep his focus on his work, and not on the fact that you were going to be right there beside him.

He would have to keep himself in check, and not let his thoughts wander to you. It was going to be hard, but he was determined to do it.

He finished drying himself and headed to his bedroom, changing into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He laid down in bed and tried to get some rest. He had a long day ahead of him, and he wanted to be prepared. But he knew that it was going to be a struggle.

He couldn't stop thinking about you, and the more he thought about you, the more he wanted you.

***

a/n: just a small prologue to post..there’s probably a lot of errors, I might delete this later and redo it, depending how I feel about it.

[itscherrylipsforme]

begging for a river cartwright bf headcannons🙏🙏

River Cartwright as a boyfriend

I am so sorry this took my ages, darling 😓 Uni and family stuff made complicated to post for the last months. But now that I am back there is nothing that can stop from writing something for one of my fave losers (affectionately). Without further ado, let's go! 🫶🏼

Masterlist Characters I write for

Okay, this man lives for his shitty job. He hates Lamb and the Slough House with all his heart, yet he would never leave it for anything in this world as he needs them to get his career back on the right path and secretly cares about his co-workers there. Being a spy is literally in his DNA and through the seasons we learn that he is indeed a workaholic. With that being told opportunities to date are few, he does not have the time or the interest to look for a partner rn

So that the situation would be that you both met at Slough House where you ended because you fucked it up and were forced to share office with him. Reluctantly you had to adapt to each other. First of all, you thought you had few things in common: being in a place neither of you wanted and feeling like completely losers. But in a job like that with little to no ways to lose time one afternoon you started to chat in hopes that the hours would run faster. To your surprise they did

First weeks were not much different from the usual, tired “Good Morning” 's and “Goodbye” 's which weren’t good at all, exchanging papers, offering to make a cup of coffee for other when needed… Yeah, he did not give much of thought to your bond. There was no need, you were another co-worker. One much less annoying than Roddy, and in fact prettier and kinder than Shirley. But a co-worker nevertheless

Under that annoyed and tired facade, River is quite nice. Pretty intelligent and can keep a sarcastic banter although impatient and impulsive as you later found out in a mission you worked together. In so told mission you ran into Duffy and his dogs, which left River with a bloodied nose, a purple eye, and nasty cuts. He claimed to be fine and able to handle them on his own but as he nearly fell on the floor while trying to stand up you insisted on helping him

And there you were, with him sitting on your desk hissing like a kid being scolded for scratching his knee and you patching him up. Between "I told you we should have asked Shirley to back-up up", "I said we did not have time to wait for here" and other various reproaches you found his gaze casually drifting to your lips too many times to keep playing obvious. So, you went for it. Soft at first, slightly hesitant he thought, before parting away scared you had messed up again

Your doubts were quickly erased by a smirk and his response, more needy and equally sweet, that soon followed after. It was like walking on a tightrope, the thrill of it but also the feeling in your gut that you could fall in any given moment. It felt good… the best, whether it was because he hadn’t kissed someone for longer that he would like to admit or because he truly liked you was a question for another night. At that moment he did not need answers, but somebody to hold and feel alive once again. A night to forget all his past mistakes. So, he lost himself on your touch and your care

-But this is River Cartwright who we are talking about. He would rather get stabbed (again) than talking with his feelings to anyone. The following days and weeks he acts like nothing has happened and you are too proud and hurt to bring it up. It takes another case, and a bullet nearly ending with your life for him to gather the courage to be honest with himself. He is not good with words, so he does not say anything, just holds your hand in the hospital’s bed while trying to plan how to proceed

However, after nights of losing sleep when you finally wake up all intentions fade to nothing. Instead, he wraps his arms around your neck and whispers softly but seriously “Don’t you ever scare me like that again” You can’t help smiling and the moment he parts away realizing the rush of his actions you feel his gaze on your lips. A nod is the only confirmation he needs before making the move for you to forgive him

Let’s be honest, he is not the most “boyfriend material” person you have met. Reckless, stubborn, impulsive… But also, caring and sweet when he wants to so he makes up for it. His love language is probably acts of service and quality time, but he won’t say no to a couple of hugs and kisses (his childhood made him kind of touch starved)

 Your work does not give you much spare time, but he swears he will redeem himself once you are both out of that hell hole giving you the life and treatment you deserve. Meanwhile you are just happy to clean him up after he returns mostly safe and sound from mission and to have him snoring on your bed because that means he actually trusts you enough to rest by your side

[kckt88]

Moth to a flame.

Summary:

Aemond has always had a thing for his older brother’s best friend.

Warning(s): Language, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Smut – Fingering, Oral sex (M & F Receiving), P in V, Safe Sex, Multiple Orgasms.

MODERN AEMOND x Y.N

INSPIRED BY THE SONG - SWEDISH HOUSE MAFIA FT THE WEEKEND - MOTH TO A FLAME.

Word Count: 2915

Taglist - @zeciex

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond groaned in frustration as his brothers groans of pleasure grew louder, the rhythmic sound of the headboard banging against the wall.

“Selfish prick-“ muttered Aemond the jealousy bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Aemond had always had a thing for his brother’s best friend, ever since they’d been introduced, she lived in the apartment across from them and Aegon being the more confident of the brothers had spoken to her first, with the pair of them becoming firm friends.

She was currently studying a degree in English and History at the local university in the hopes of becoming a teacher someday, all whilst working at a grocery store.

Aside from the fact that she was intelligent, kind, generous, and funny, Aemond also liked the fact that she was immune to Aegon’s garish attempts at seduction, politely declining his repeated advances until he finally gave up his pursuit.

But they struck up a firm friendship nonetheless and from then on Y.N had become a regular fixture in both of their lives. That was two years ago and every day since then had felt like torture.

In a way he was slightly envious of Aegon when it came to matters of the opposite sex, his older brother never had any issues charming the pants off literally every woman that took his fancy whereas he was still a virgin at the age of twenty one.

Gods it was so embarrassing, of course he wanted to have sex, but he just couldn’t get past his own shyness and insecurity over the scar on his face and his missing eye, that he never reciprocated any woman’s advances, not that there were many anyway.

He was convinced they were doing it out of pity or simply an attempt to mock him, and he didn’t want to feel vulnerable in that way, so he simply stayed away and guarded his heart and his feelings.

He liked to imagine all the ways he would please Y.N, with his fingers, his tongue, and his cock, he wanted her in every way possible, but he was too damn shy to even try so he resigned himself to fucking his fist whenever the urge got too much.

And now he’d missed his chance, Y.N was next door fucking his brother and it made him angry, gods Aegon was such a prick, he knew of his feelings for Y.N and still he’d pursued her and fucked her. How many times had they done it? How long had it been going on for? And by the gods Aemond would kill Aegon if he discarded Y.N like she was nothing.

Aegon wasn’t the best when it came to dealing with the aftermath of his pursuits, he enjoyed the chase, did what he had to in order to get what he wanted and then threw them away as if they were nothing.

Aemond had lost count of the amount of women who would come banging on their door, looking for Aegon after he had ghosted them, it was actually exhausting.

“For fuck sake” muttered Aemond as he rubbed his eye and stared at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

After figuring out that trying to sleep was a pointless endeavour Aemond got out of bed, not like he could sleep with that racket going on next door anyway.

Slipping on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, Aemond left his room and walked into the kitchen, perhaps a drink and a smoke would dampen his ire, or maybe he’d finally check out that series on Netflix that Aegon kept insisting he watch.

After running a hand through his dark hair, Aemond opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap and taking a large gulp as he turned around.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST” shouted Aemond as he spotted Y.N sitting at the table, her face illuminated only by her laptop screen.

“Sorry -I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Y.N softly.

“W-What are you doing here?” gasped Aemond.

“My WIFI is out so Aeg said I could use yours-I have an assignment due at the end of the week,” said Y.N motioning to her laptop and the mountain of books beside it.

“No-I meant what are you doing out here, I thought you was in Aegon’s room”.

“Why would I be in Aeg’s room?” asked Y.N

“Well, I-I heard him with someone and-“

“-So you just naturally assumed that it was me?” muttered Y.N frowning.

“N-No-it’s just he said earlier that he’d asked you to come over” replied Aemond.

“He did ask me, but I had a shift at the shop, and then he said something about Cassandra”.

Aemond could feel his cock stirring in his trousers at the sight of Y.N sitting at the table in her short p.js, with one leg raised.

The material of her shorts rid higher on her thigh, exposing her creamy flesh.

“Oh, so that’s who’s in his room” muttered Aemond the feeling of relief washing over him.

“I guess so, he’s been trying to get in her knickers for a while, so his questionable attempts at flirting have finally paid off,” said Y.N shrugging.

“I guess” mumbled Aemond.

“You honestly thought that I was with him?” asked Y.N her eyes lingering on Aemond’s bare chest, her teeth catching on her lower lip at the sparse chest hair and the silver cross chain he wore.

“Yeah-sorry about that” whispered Aemond.

“I had hoped that you would think better of me” replied Y.N.

“I don’t think about you at all” lied Aemond his tone a little sharper than he intended.

“Oh really?” asked Y.N as she slowly rose from the chair.

“N-No” gasped Aemond, his face suddenly feeling very hot.

“I see the way you look at me-“ muttered Y.N

“I-I don’t-“ stuttered Aemond, his eye focused on the thin strap of Y.N’s top that had slipped down her shoulder.

“I like the way you look at me-“ whispered Y.N

“Y.N-“ exclaimed Aemond as she reached forward and gently cupped the scared side of his face.

“So beautiful” whispered Y.N.

“N-No I’m not” muttered Aemond lowering his head.

“Yes, you are-“ said Y.N as she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his scared cheek.

Aemond’s heart was pounding in his chest, he could smell the sweet scent of Y.N’s perfume and feel the heat from the proximity of her body.

Y.N seemed to be waiting for him to make the next move, she smiled softly as she reached down to take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond stood mute, his mind screaming at him to lean forward and kiss her, the girl of his dreams was standing in front of him in her short p.js looking at him expectantly.

He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed but the heat of Y.N’s body suddenly moved away from him, taking his silence as a rejection of her advance.

“I’m sorry-“ muttered Y.N her cheeks tinged pink.

Aemond could only stand there as he watched Y.N rapidly collecting her things, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Tell Aeg thanks for letting me use the WIFI-“ said Y.N as she rushed towards the door, her breath hitching in her throat as she struggled with the door handle before pulling it open and running across the hall to her own flat.

Aemond blinked and slowly he came back to himself.

Y.N had propositioned him, and he’d just stood there like a complete twat and now she’d fled the apartment and would likely never return for fear of running into him.

No, that just wouldn’t do. Y.N was different from other girls; she didn’t look repulsed at the sight of his scar or pretend it didn’t exist.

She had called him beautiful, and he’d just stood there, and not said a word.

He could have been kissing her right now, and yet he was still standing there.

With a huff of annoyance, Aemond stalked forward and wrenched open the door, he didn’t care that he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, he just wanted to make things right with Y.N.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

She didn’t answer, so he knocked again and again.

“Please Y.N-Open the door” begged Aemond as he pressed his forehead against the wood.

He internally cursed his own stupidity and was about to give up when he suddenly lurched forward as the door flew open.

“Aemond-“ muttered Y.N.

“-Y.N” replied Aemond as he gently cupped her face with both hands and pressed his lips against hers.

He pulled away for a moment so he could quickly kick the door closed and then his mouth descended upon Y.N’s again.

Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips as Y.N’s pierced tongue slid against his.

Y.N slowly slid her hands up the back of Aemond’s neck and into his hair and pulled it slightly, delighting in the little moan he made.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Not having any clue at all where this bravado came from, but he was more than content to roll with it.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slots himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his sweatpants.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh-baby girl you have no idea” rasped Aemond.

“Bedroom” muttered Y.N.

Aemond nodded eagerly as he lowered Y.N to the floor and took her hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

Of course, he’d been in Y.N’s flat plenty of times for movie nights and game nights, but this night was totally different. It was the night that he would lose his virginity.

As they entered her bedroom, Y.N gently cupped his face and pressed her forehead against his.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything-I want you” replied Aemond.

“If things get too much for you-We can stop” whispered Y.N.

“I know”

Y.N smiled as she stepped back from Aemond and reached down to pull off her strappy top.

Aemond stared open mouthed as he gazed at Y.N’s bare breasts, he reached out with a shaking hand and gently ran his fingers over her nipple that had hardened in the cool air of the room.

“You are so beautiful” exclaimed Aemond, of course he’d seen breasts before, but none as exquisite as Y.N’s.

“As are you my dragon”.

Aemond blushed as he watched Y.N hook her fingers into the waistband of her p.j shorts and pull them down.

His mouth watered as he gazed at her naked body, she was indescribably beautiful. Her pale flesh, her rosy nipples, the rose tattoo on her hip and the neatly trimmed thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Y-You are perfect” muttered Aemond as he leaned forward and pressed a series of gentle kisses to Y.N’s neck.

“Aemond” whimpered Y.N.

Suddenly coming to the realisation that he needed to be naked too, Aemond reached down and began to push down his sweatpants and boxers but Y.N stopped him.

“Allow me” muttered Y.N as she sank to her knees and pulled his sweatpants down.

Y.N’s eyes widened slightly as his hard cock sprang free and slapped up against his abdomen, sure she’d felt it over his sweatpants but to actually see it, was another matter entirely. Aemond had truly been blessed, he was very well endowed.

“C-Can I take you in my mouth?” asked Y.N.

“Yes” whispered Aemond, his chest heaving.

Gods it was like heaven, the moment Y.N’s warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock, Aemond knew he was done for.

The metal of her piecing rubbed against his shaft as she moved her mouth up and down his length.

“F-Fuck” groaned Aemond as his cock throbbed, his seed spilling inside her mouth.

Y.N hummed around his cock before she looked him in the eye and swallowed every last drop.

“Shit-shit, I-I’m sorry” exclaimed Aemond his cheeks tinged pink.

“It’s ok-really” replied Y.N wiping the corners of her mouth.

“I wanted it to last longer” whispered Aemond as he helped Y.N to stand up.

“Don’t worry. There are other things we can do whilst we wait for you to be ready again” replied Y.N as she took Aemond’s hand and led him to bed.

“I-I want to k-kiss you down there” said Aemond shyly.

“Ok” said Y.N softly as she laid back on the bed and opened her legs.

Aemond groaned as he gazed at her glistening folds, gods she was beautiful there too.

“Let me guide you-“ muttered Y.N.

Aemond nodded eagerly as he climbed onto the bed and laid down between her open legs.

“You can use your tongue, your fingers or both at the same time-let me show you”.

Aemond observed intently as he watched Y.N’s fingers encircled what she called her ‘pearl’ soon his insides were squirming, and his fingers were itching for him to take over and bury his face into her cunny and bring her to peak.

“P-please let me, I-I want to” begged Aemond as he pressed forward.

“Oh-“ moaned Y.N as she felt Aemond’s tongue gently run along her slit.

“Hm, are you always this wet” rasped Aemond.

“Only for you” moaned Y.N as Aemond’s mouth slowly descended on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue, in and out.

Y.N clutched the bedspread above her head, her fingers digging into the fabric, gods he was a fast learner.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“Are you going to come for me?” asked Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Y/N arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Y/N’s inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y/N.

Aemond rose from the bed, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then put them in his mouth, savouring the delicious taste of Y/N.

“W-Was that alright?” asked Aemond nervously.

“You were amazing”.

Aemond blushed furiously as Y.N directed him to lay on her bed.

“I’m on the pill, but I have condoms” asked Y.N gesturing to the draw of her nightstand.

“No-I want to feel you” replied Aemond.

Y.N smiled as she moved over Aemond’s body, her slick folds rubbing against his cock.

Gods he was so hard, it was bordering on painful.

Y.N reached down and Aemond groaned as he felt her warm hand wrap around his cock and guide it to her wet entrance.

“A-Are you sure?” asked Y.N.

“Yes-Please Y.N I want you” exclaimed Aemond.

Y.N took a deep breath as the tip of his cock pressed inside her.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck, Aemond" moaned Y.N as she slowly sunk down on his cock.

“Please” begged Aemond his fingers digging into her hips.

“I’m going to move now” whispered Y.N as she rolled her hips against his.

“Yes” moaned Aemond as he began to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of Y.N squeezing his cock.

“Aemond-“ whimpered Y.N as he began teasing her pearl with his fingers, his cock throbbing inside her.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Y.N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

If this was heaven, then Y.N was at the centre of it, and he never wanted to leave.

Aemond looked at where they were joined, and he groaned at the sight of his cock shiny with her slick, this was everything he’d hoped it would be and he was glad that he got to share this with her.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y.N.

Y.N looked amazing as she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her skin shining with sweat.

Y.N clamped down around Aemond’s cock so hard he could hardly move. That, combined with how glorious Y.N looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Y.N” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside her wet heat.

Y.N collapsed on top of Aemond for a moment, her chest heaving.

Aemond gently moved his hands up and down her back, savouring the feeling of his softened cock still nestled snugly inside her.

After a few minutes, Y.N slowly moved off Aemond and flopped onto the mattress next to him.

Basking in the after glow of his orgasm, Aemond moved onto his side and pressed his face into Y.N’s neck.

“Does this mean that your my girlfriend now?”

[kyhgwts]

Please! I beg you! I need more fanfic about Draco with a bunny and innocent reader! It's too perfect to just have a fanfic about it! (⁠人⁠*��´⁠∀⁠｀⁠) ❤️✨🌟✨💫✨

Summary: When you’ve been a brat all day because of your pre-heat, and Draco finally snaps and puts you in your place.

WARNING(s): SMUT, Dom!Draco, Sub!Reader, dacryphilla, Spanking, brat!Reader, rough sex, aftercare, AU Hogwarts university (everyone is 18+), (READER IS ABLE TO MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS!! A SAFE WORD IS IN PLACE!!) (the pictures shown are not meant to be what the reader (or Draco) looks like, just the vibe of the story!!)

PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x BunnyHybrid!Reader

You knew you were at the end of Draco’s patience, and sure deep down you felt bad but you couldn’t help it. Pre-heat was hitting you hard, and Draco was there to take it out on.

Your pre-heat was horrible, maybe even worse than your actual heat. It always was a few days to a week before your heat, and it made life a living hell. It made you in a bad mood, tired, needy, and bratty. Sometimes it even made you hungry like hell, but nothing ever sounded good.

Draco knew all about your heat as well as your pre-heat, and you were so thankful to have him. He truly was the sweetest about it, but he also knew when you needed extra help in putting you in your place.

Sometimes he wasn’t always there to help with your heat, and it sucked. But he did try his best, arranging classes when he could. You were always thrilled when your heat landed on a weekend, meaning you had him for two full days to yourself.

Your heat usually lasted for about 3-4 days, maybe even just 2 if you were really lucky. Your heat was just so inconvenient, and you’ve apologized to Draco profusely about putting him in such a situation. He always got mad at you when you apologized though, saying it wasn’t your fault and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

You have had 2 with him, sometimes heats wouldn’t come for months. You were able to communicate a lot better than when him and his friends first found you, you could speak fluently now.

However, you still weren’t that intelligent on sex. Sure you knew the basics of it but you still haven’t understood it all that well. And you were working on that, with a side of Draco’s help.

Your pre-heat had started early this morning and you got annoyed by Draco snoring, SNORING, and you pushed him off you mumbling how you couldn’t sleep with him being so loud. This wasn’t anything to him, you were sassy to say the least. But he knew you were starting your pre-heat, which meant you’d only get worse from here on out.

When he came to his dorm for lunch, you got mad that he didn’t get you the thing you were craving even though you hadn’t told him. A normal, he could deal with it.

But when he came back from school, that’s when it started to escalate. He was laying in bed with you, working on school work while he played with your hair. You groaned pulling away, he gave you a skeptical look.

“UGH! You’ve been scratching the same spot for 5 minutes!” you knew this was out of line, it wasn’t his fault. He just raised an eyebrow as if asking if you were really acting this way.

“Alright i apologize, i’ll try my best to do rotations” he said trying his best to hold back his grin, you glared at him tossing yourself back down grumbling under your breath.

Then while getting ready for bed, when he handed you one of his shirts when you put it on you immediately whined. He took a deep breath looking at you with a displeased expression.

“Why is this shirt so itchy!” you yank it off, throwing it on the ground and making your way to his closet.

“Hey! Don’t throw shit on the ground princess, my patience is thinning with you today.” he says picking up the shirt, making his way towards you.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have stupid itchy shirts! What the fuck were you thinking when you bought that thing” you say, and he’s stunned. You’ve never cussed, ever.

“Oh wow, okay, you want to act this way huh? Do you want me to punish you is that your problem here?” he asks, leaning down to catch your eye contact.

“You are my problem here.” you whisper challenging him, he lets out a humorless laugh.

“Go.” he says, the tone making you shiver. You knew where he meant by “go” it was obvious. You huff out a frustrated breath, stomping you way to the bed.

“Wow very mature of you” he called out following you. You roll your eyes, climbing into the bed.

Before you can even make yourself comfortable, he’s on top of you. Pushing your hands above your head, he glared down at you.

“Pre-heat hitting you hard or what princess, huh? what’s your deal? You’ve had a rotten attitude all day.” He says, you just make a sour face at him.

“No, you are just extra annoying today” you spat, you knew you crossed a line but how could you not when he was so hot while he was mad.

“Oh, alright then i guess i’ll just leave you to sleep then yeah?” he says pulling away, you groan out a frustrated cry.

“No!” you whine, he just shakes his head laughing.

“Then what? hm? you want me to fuck that attitude out of you, that’s what you want?” he says, you don’t want to admit it.

“What’s your safe word?” he asks, you mumble it letting him know you wanted this.

He immediately pulls off your shorts and underwear, and slowly taking of his clothes. He settled between your legs, rubbing and caressing your body. He leaned down to kiss your neck, slowly starting to bite it and leave marks.

You arch you back letting out a whimper when his fingers glide through your pussy. He looks up at you shaking his head, it was so easy for him to get you inside your head.

“Do you think you can be a good girl, and maybe i’ll let you come? Think you can make up for your bratty attitude today?” he asks, you nod pleading with soft murmurs.

“Please M’ so sorry! i want to be good, i promise i can be good” you whine, hands grabbing desperately onto his forearms.

“Look at you, already being so polite.” he grins, you nod eyes hopeful.

“But i can’t just let you go that easy now can i?” he says, grabbing your wrists to put you in a sitting position.

“You can’t?” you ask, pout put on your face in hopes he’d take pity. But after the hell you’ve given him today, he’s got none for you.

When he flips you around, pushing your head to the mattress as he pulls up your ass you know you’re done for.

“You count, and if i hear anything but you counting out of the mouth of yours, we’re starting all over again.” he says, you whine hands grasping the sheets under you in a tight hold.

“Understood?” he asks, your head moves against the mattress in a nod.

He rubbed your ass harshly, the first blow causing your mouth to fall open but you keep quiet.

“One” you whisper, eyes slammed shut.

Draco didn’t give you much time before he landed another harsh slap, causing you to bite down on the sheets. His slaps were hard, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t growing wetter by the minute.

“T- Two” you gasp, pushing back into him. He reacts by making the third harder than the last two combined, causing you to whimper. You instantly realize your mistake, sobbing and pleading.

“Your breaking this early? my my princess what a shame” he says, and his words cause your sob to intense.

“I- i didn’t mean to please” you protest sitting up to face him.

“Lay down.” he says, pushing your head back down, you obligate bringing your ass back up.

“Start over.” he says sternly, landing a harsh smack to your ass.

“One” you say softly, and he hums in encouragement.

“How about 10, i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since your suffering pre-heat.” he says, and you nod vigorously.

He truly was giving you the benefit of the doubt, because the way you had acted today, you’d thought you’d at least get 20.

When you got to number ten, you were deep in a haze. Ass red and sore, eyes filled with tears. You’d let a few sobs out, but he didn’t make you start over. Either Draco didn’t hear or he was being nice.

“You were so good sweetheart” he whispers, mouth so close to your ear as he leans over your spent out body. And you know he’s lying, you did horrible. But he tended to be more lenient since he knew pre-heat was a living hell for you.

He flipped you back over, and you winced when your ass hit the sheets. He almost felt bad, but he knew you liked this, you loved it. That was why he had always had a safe word in place.

When you felt his tip lining up with your entrance, you could cry out of happiness. Draco cursed at how wet you were, he knew spanking got you going but this time it was on a whole new level.

“Oh my sweet girl, you are being starved” he whispers, you whine pulling him down close so you can feel him everywhere.

When he slips in, you whimper, feet pushing into his lower back. Your hand’s immediately go to his hair grabbing handfuls.

“Please” you sob, pushing your hips to him. He takes that as a sign that you’ve been pushed far more than he intended to push you.

He pushed into you fully, making you shout out his name. Your body racks with shivers, lips wobbling.

“Fuck, baby girl” he cursed, starting at a slow pace for you. He’s never seen you this far gone, but he fucking loved it.

When your hands pull at his hair, and your legs lock him in he begins his rough pace you love so much. And you completely fall apart.

“MNUGH” you cry, fingernails raking down his back and leaving marks.

“There we go, sweet girl” he whispers softly, in contrast to his hard thrusts.

You could feel him everywhere, and your mind could only think about him. He knew just how to make you feel good, and he never disappointed you.

His hands slip under your thighs lifting your lower half up, allowing him to push himself in deeper. His skin slapping into you ass, causing the most unholy sounds.

Each hard thrust has you pushed farther and farther in oblivion. His left arm moves under to your lower back, keeping you up while his right hand moves to your clit. This causes you to throw your head back, and your eyes to slam shut.

“Are you going to clean up that act of yours?” he asks, you nod tears steaming down you face.

“I promise!” you cry, sobbing when his thrusts begin to edge you even further.

“You were so mean” he says in a pout, making fun of you. You groan in a frustrated manor, which causes him to slap your clit.

“Don’t you agree?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. When you don’t answer or look at him, he takes his hand from your clit forcing your face to him.

“Look at me. I asked you a question.” he says, you whine opening your eyes.

“Y- yes i- i agree” you mumble, he smirks. Wiping the drool from your face, as well as pushing hair from your face.

“Drayyy” you whine, moving your hips with his thrusts.

“Shhhh, i know, i’m so sorry. But you deserved your punishment. You’ve been pushing me all day” he mumbles voice rough, right into you ear as his hot breath fans your neck. Goosebumps erupt, causing you to shiver.

“I didn’t mean to” you cry, shaking in his hold. You were so close, hanging on the cliff by a finger.

“My poor baby, just wants my attention, didn’t she?” he asks softly lips sucking and kissing your neck, you nod desperately.

You mumble an incoherent string of words, before you spasm in Draco’s hold and cum like you’ve never have before.

“Aw fuck, good girl, there you go” he mumbles, helping you ride out your orgasm as he slowly chases his.

Only then do you realize how wet you feel, looking down you gap at the mess. But you can’t comprehend it for long, before Draco’s letting go in you with a low grunt.

When he stills inside you, and the after sex cuddle session starts you gap at the mess.

“Draco…”

“You squirted” he grinned, you had no idea what that meant, but you sure as hell knew it felt amazing.

You basked in the post-orgasm glow for a while, before Draco makes you get up to take a shower. You protest, but you know there’s no getting out of it.

“Baby, you are sweaty, and sticky. So am i, there’s no way in hell i’m sleeping like this. Come on you’ll feel better after i promise, you always do.” he whispers softly, you obligate following him to the bathroom. Your arms wrapped around him, head leaned onto his back as you trail behind him.

When he starts the shower, he swirls around pulling you off the ground and sitting you on the counter. You immediately lean into him as he stands between your legs, head fallen to the crook of his neck.

When in your heat, you never took showers right after sex because you knew more sex was about to happen within the next hour. But when not in your heat, Draco really makes sure your clean and content after. You wanted to say you hated it, and you did when you had to be dragged out of bed, but he was right when he said you always felt way better after.

He never let you do much, washing your hair and body. All you had to do was occasionally lift up your arms or tip your head back, otherwise you were leant against him.

After, he helps you into some fresh clothes which typically are underwear and a shirt.

“Is that one itchy?” he drawls, and you push him playfully as you grumble. He just laughs, following you towards the freshly made bed.

You make in into the sheets, legs kicking under the sheets in giddiness. After a while of silence, you now straddling him as he lays flat and you have your head on his chest

“I’m sorry for acting like that today” you whisper, the heel of his palm pushing into all parts of your back.

“It’s alright baby, i know the shit you get put through, it sucks” he whispers, and you giggle to yourself which causes him to raise an eyebrow.

“At least i get sex all day” you mumble, he shakes his head as he lets out his own laugh.

“You’re ridiculous” he says, kissing the top of your head.

Ridiculous for him? absolutely.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Damian has been in the family for a while he has made his peace with Drake understood that no matter what he has a place but he still can't understand the dynamics. Maybe it isn't exactly the most intelligent choice to track down Todd and ask but he figured it was the best option.

Sitting on Todd's couch in the middle of crime alley eating a dish he can only vaguely remember his mother making he isn't exactly regretting it yet.

"So let me get this straight bat brat, you don't get how people work so you came to me?" Todd's confusion isn't exactly surprising but it is unhelpful to his plight.

"No I understand people, well when I have to I do not understand the bats." He at the moment can't bring himself to actually act with the dignity his mother expects of him another way Gotham had corrupted him.

-

Jason can't say he expected to feed and be interrogated by the demon brat he just wanted to relax but this isn't exactly a surprise now that the kid has chilled out he was almost waiting for it.

"You want me to give you a cheat sheet to how our family actually works becusse you are now realizing that Talia didn't understand shit and it fucked you?"

He can't keep the pure joy out of his voice knowing that he is actually gonna get to knock the kid down a peg after today.

"Not in those words Todd but I understand you have a perspective that I may lack."

God demon looks pissed below the joy he understand that this is actually important and he needs to explain this well knowing this could make or break the already pretty fucked up kid.

"Alright listen and don't fucking interrupt me save your questions and bitchness for the end do I make myself clear."

Holding the kids eyes he sees the kid is actually paying attention as he nods maybe Dickie really did find out the secrets housebreaking who knows.

"Ok let's start with me and I'm gonna be sappy for ten seconds and if you ever repeat this I will shoot you and put you in another duffle bag ok, ok good. I'm your brother I love you would kill for you that whole bullshit. I'm also Dick's, and Tim's brother, on days I don't want to kill the old man I'm his son."

God he's gonna need a smoke after this bullshit fuck he sees the kid is nodding good he hasn't lost him.

"Now Dick is my older brother he's not yours you can lie to yourself all you fucking want but he's your dad teaching you how to be a real boy and all that shit."

He sees an embarrassed flush and the start of protests but he's not dealing with it that bullshit the kid can work on in his own time.

" You wanted it your gonna fucking hear it, now Tim-Tam the sleep deprived idiot is a bit more complicated."

He takes a breath trying to put into words what he wants to say.

"Why is Drake complicated wouldn't he be somewhat easy" the confusion isn't a good sign maybe it is better the kid came so he can restrain him if he has too.

"Tim is the best of us alright, he's someone I want to protect I love him truly even if he's an annoying little shit. Now listen Tim is a lot like you when it comes to Dick crossing the line between Dad and Brother. Tim will always side with Dick that's his Robin and Tim is Dick's. You can't be a jealous little shit here because I don't even fully understand them."

"Bruce isn't Tim"s dad at least on his end Dick is, Bruce loves Tim but no one can ever replace Dickie just like you which is honestly half the reason you hated the kid."

-

Damian is now regretting this conversation he thought this would be simple once again he has somewhat lost his mind since coming to Gotham.

Yet he knows Todd's right that the way Grayson looks at Drake is the same look he gets and the same part of him who loves his animals and loves Richard feels guilty because he knew. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Why I don't understand why is Timothy so different to any of us even you, both of us tried to kill him yet he seems to matter so much"

frustration is leaking through but this is what he wanted to know why Drake is so important even to him why, what is so special about him.

Todd is hesitating but slowly steeling himself Damian cant help but to copy him knowing whatever comes out isn't gonna be easy it's gonna hurt but he asked didn't he.

"Tim was the first, the one to really unlock Dick not being well a dick he knows parts of all of us, secretswhatever, the shit that matters. Bruce, Dick, me even you, we don't run shit ok Wayne Entetprises, plans Tim does. Dick and Tim are the glue holding us together without them we would be fucked you know that."

"That's what's so special about him everything we do Tim has a part of he's genuinely irreplaceable and it bothers the fuck out of both of us."

Damian can't breathe he just runs words he never wanted admitted are stabbing through his mind he doesn't stop until somehow he ends up in his bed at the manor he just hides pushing it down the real reason he tried to kill his brother the fact that he almost broke the family he just hides he shouldn't have asked.

Maybe Richard was right being naive was a gift and now he can't go back.

[applestorms]

the demons got to me and i’m thinking about mello again.

god i so desperately wish we could’ve seen him interact with L in canon. near too, but mello in particular— i’ve already written my mello & misa parallels post so i won’t reiterate all that here but, fuck. i think their similarities would’ve been so obvious if we had actually seen mello’s hero worship of L in practice, like more than just his freak out at roger upon hearing about his death.

do you think he would’ve been loud, in his face about it? i don’t think so. i can’t help thinking back to near’s explanation of why L picked the two of them out to be his successors— the two quiet kids at the back of the room, glowering and watching while everyone else asked their questions. the obvious implication is that L picked them out because they seemed to idolize him, to respect him the least. near at least seems to have managed to stick with that mindset for most of canon… but when did mello’s view start changing? was he just better at hiding it? did his feelings ever become more, less mixed? did he worship L like a cold, distant god— or grow to respect the minor points of humanity that seeped out from the corners?

speaking of: how the FUCK did that conversation about the LABB murder case go? how much of that story was actually, directly told to mello, and how much was his own fantasy, filling in the blanks? he clearly projected onto BB. did he join the mafia with that knowledge in mind, that the desperate, inferiority complex-riddled serial killer was the archetype he fit into better than the world famous detective? did he care about justice, any kind of moral standard— did he bloody his hands or find ways to work around it?

mello knew was never going to be L’s successor, not if he played the game according to its established rules. did L ever imply such things to his face? actually, what the hell did L think of near? was he aware of the burden he put on those fucking kids, did he ever care for even a second? did he mistakenly assume his own immortality, even in the face of a supernatural murder?

(clawing desperately at the walls of my enclosure. L getting annoyed at his pet orphanage of super-geniuses for distracting him from his evil boyfriend is one of my favorite fic tropes of all time, if you gimme recs for that i’ll kiss you)

i wonder if mello ever saw the parts of L in near that everyone else seems to unable to see past. maybe he did, but even so— i think he, of all people, was most aware of all the ways in which near was himself. how easily he fit the role but all the ways in which he broke out of it as well, the similarities in their intelligence & methods of thinking but the minor details that meant near could win where L never could. where mello himself never could. he probably knew how that guy functioned better than anyone, maybe even better than near himself, though i doubt he’d ever do much with that knowledge. it’s one of the few places where i see mello & near switching in terms of passivity— mello knowing Everything about near but doing very little about it, paralyzed by his own self-doubt, while near comparatively struggles to claw as much Mello Knowledge as he can, poking and prodding and pushing him in every direction, all while getting continually blind-sighted as he explodes in random ways he can barely fathom.

i like to think that, in contrast with near’s extreme codependence, mello is actually quite self-sufficient. weirdly, he seems to me like the DN character to be the most likely to actually go to therapy at some point. i think he’s a lot more self aware than he lets on, if only because his inferiority complex drives so much of his self hatred, pushing him to always be better, stronger, more independent. i like to imagine that his apartment or room or wherever the fuck he lives is actually quite clean, that he pushes himself to learn how to cook, how to take care of himself. L never sleeps and near probably sleeps too much but mello needs a consistent, solid 7-8 hours a night or he starts getting cranky— the kind of person who functions better in the sunlight, to take from a fic i read recently.

i wonder how much of his life he remembers from before the orphanage. he seems like he might have emotional ties there, but something he’d never or only very rarely speak about— glimpses of a past life that keeps him up at night on occasion, where near is blessed with a complete lack of any earlier memories. mello just seems more inclined towards sentimentality like that, extreme in all his emotions, particularly when they’re utilized for the purpose of self-destruction. he wears a rosary, has a cross on his gun, chooses to die in a dilapidated church. good lord, he chooses to die in a church.

did he grieve matt? he apologizes, yes. but did he already know he was to join him so soon?

i desperately wish to see a version of mello who had the time to commit to his name and chill the fuck out for a while. get some meds, separate himself from the burdens of L, of the rivalry, and allow himself the chance to relax and breathe and properly heal. part of the reason why his death in particular hits me so hard is the fact that it all seems so possible with him, that he has the most potential to genuinely get over this shit— to not just stew in the corners of the earth and let time wash over him (like a certain someone), but actually, literally get his fucking life back.

he’s explosive, yes, he’s neurotic and emotional and lashes out at everyone and anyone he pleases— but in that same way, he’s honest. mello and near do not bullshit themselves in the ways that L and light do so consistently, they don’t bother lying to themselves or putting on airs about the kinds of people they are or the kinds of things they want. they know their place in the world, the expectations on their shoulders.

everybody likes thinking about “L wins” and “KIRA wins” scenarios, but you know what i really want to consider? what the fuck would mello winning look like? i mean, he’s a character whose primarily fucking trait is the fact that he loses, that he’s always second place. i almost feel like mello winning could’ve been one of the best case scenarios— because for mello to truly win, to not just overpower near and tell him to suck it (a situation which would not make mello legitimately happy, just put him in the same situation as light killing L), he’d have to get over the biggest hurdle of his own bullshit and legitimately grow as a person.

i yearn to see a near that got the chance to grow up with his other half, and a mello who got the chance to live for himself again. they deserve that: quiet afternoons to bitch at each other and argue over whatever book they decided to read that week, near whining about having to do chores and mello yelling at him to clean up his fucking legos, matt shaking his head in the corner.

get those kids a fucking happy ending.