#it’s not gonna make any sense to anyone except me but that’s a risk I’m willing to take

[ulysses-s-grant]

I made a playlist with songs that remind me of Grant and I did my best to order them in a way that reflects his life. Might share it…

[parkersbliss]

A Domestic Life | S. Riley

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader

warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC

synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships

a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for ghost!

—

sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit

enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok

he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies

obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.

on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme

his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off

he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him

wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years

when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores

again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway

loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room

likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie

It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it

a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles

his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.

he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you

loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.

his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.

including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.

he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?

bicep holding >>> hand holding

he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home

his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.

plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”

doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid

you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.

it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP

sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate

when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.

and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is

[igotanidea]

The love of rain : Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Request submitted as a part of my 1k celebration: Rain and Nikolai (thank you anon!)

Warning: some spice, but nothing explicit, apart from that just fluff

***

The weather in Ravka was whimsical, to say the least.

One day there was sun and clear sky and the other the habitants had to deal with fog or storm or rain. And most of them did not like when it was wet and dark outside, cause it was clear sign that they would be stuck at the little palace for longer than anyone would wish for. It was particularly painful for squallers and tidemakers, the rest were complaining but found their way to deal with it. Of course, it was possible to just use the Grisha power and dissipate the clouds, but nature was nature and there were still rules to stick by, one of them saying that Etherealki were not supposed to mess with it more than necessary.

However, there is always an exception to the rule, or at least they say so.

“Ugh!” Zoya grunted upon noticing the first drops on the ground “I can’t believe it! Why can’t we just make those clouds go away? I can do this.”

“Zoya” Nadia put a hand on her shoulder “you know we are not supposed to do that. King’s orders.”

“Well, someone should knock some sense into Nikolai’s head” the brunette scoffed, raising her hands, ready to call upon the wind “I need training. I want to train and I am not going to stop just because….”

“Surely you are not going to disobey, right?” Adrik came out of nowhere and chimed in “you are a soldier, you have to be obedient.” He reminded her and it made her sigh deeply in frustration.

“I hate it.”

“Yes, we heard you loud and clear, now come on, we have to find shelter before we get drenched.”

And just like that, all the Grisha assembled on the palace ground started running from the droplets, which slowly intensified and after a couple of minutes, the drizzle turned into full-on torrent.

“Aren’t you happy we are inside now?”  Nadia smiled at Zoya, but the latter was even more annoyed than before.

“NO!” she said firmly with a pout on her face

“Someone’s in the mood, today” a male’s voice came from the other entrance to the room and everyone turned to face king Nikolai himself.

“My king” Genya was the first one to raise from her seat and approach him

“I still can’t get used to that title” Nik smiled brightly “but you gotta admit it suits me well, doesn’t it?”

“Well…..” Genya started, but Zoya interrupted her

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get too much to your head, you majesty.” She smirked

“If it ever does, I give you permission to knock some sense into me.” Nikolai chuckled at the girl’s surprised expression “yes, yes, I heard you use that particular expression. Just be sure to avoid the face, will you? Your punches are quite strong and I can’t risk getting injured in the most visible part of me. Now, is everyone back from the field?”

‘Squallers are at full strength” Adrik assured

“How about tidemakers, Annika?”

“As well, moi tsar.” the girl bowed gently and earned a smile from Nikolai.

“And what about Inferni?” he hesitated a bit

“I think we all know the answer to that question. Y/N is missing, obviously.”

“Guess that’s the aftermath of the time she spend on the ship with you in the role of Sturmhond”

“Good thing I know exactly where to look for her.” Nikolai started walking towards the exit ready to go outside straight into the downpour

“My king!” Genya yelled after him “you should not….”

“Oh, dear Genya, after all this time, you should not use the “you should” with me. Don’t you know I’m gonna do what I want either way. I’m the king after all” he winked at the girl without having any care in the world.

*** “You know, for an Inferni, you are strangely fascinated with water.” Y/N, who was sitting under the canopy near the waterfall, listening to the sound of rain turned around at the voice, a bit alarmed, ready to throw a fireball straight into Nikolai’s face. “Hey! Easy with that!” he raised hands in defense.

“Do not sneak on me!” she spat and then started laughing at the man, her eyes glistening with joy “you are drenched, moi tsar.“

“As if you weren’t.”

“I don’t really care. Besides, I got the heat, I can get myself dry, easily, unlike you.” Y/N smiled at him and reached a hand towards him “come on, we can both fit in here. Can’t risk you getting sick.”

“Oh, you are worried about me” he grinned sitting close to her, sneaking an arm around her waist and puling the girl in “That is just so sweet, my love”

“Mhm, sure. I’m worried about all your people and royal advisors coming after me with pitchforks because I gave the king the flu.”

“Pichfork?” he raised an eyebrow, but could not help a little laugh. “Why pitchfork?”

“I don’t know” she leaned into him. It was kinda funny, how she was the Infeni and yet, he was the one who was giving her warmth. The kind that does not come from the fire, but from the inside and from all the feelings she get because of him “isn’t that what used to be use to deal with witches? And I am a witch after all.”

“Sure you are. You definitely bewitched me.” Nikolai kissed her temple and she closed her eyes enjoying this. Maybe too much. “Besides, as the king, I choose to be here.”

“It’s just so quiet and peaceful, you know” she snuggled closer to him “unlike in the palace or in training. There just always so many people, so many noises. And rain, rain just make it all go away.”

“Like I said, you are one strange Inferni.”

“Maybe.” She sighed “you know people hear “’Inferni” and automatically assume those are the one who beams with energy all the time, have power and strength, and are always ready to jump into action. But hey, guess what, we are people too, we are tired and stressed and worried and need a break from time to time.”

“Hard week?” he asked rubbing on her arm lovingly and reassuringly.

“Like usual. It’s not like I can compare with all your duties. You’ve been busy too.”

“Is that why you’ve been hiding here?” he moved away slightly just to search for an answer in her eyes. “Don’t. turn away from me” his hand found a way to her cheek making her face him “Y/n, darling, tell me.”

 “I… that may have been the reason” she muttered “I just knew you would come to find me.” She looked down for a moment but then raised gaze and focused it on his face “Nik, I’m sorry, I just missed you and ….”

She did not get to finish as he leaned forward and planted his lips on hers in the most gentle, slow and emotional kiss that any girl could imagine and wish for. If she wasn’t sitting, her knees would probably gave up on her and she would fall to the ground. Saints, how she missed this. It’s been a week since they had a single silent moment together and it was all reflected in such simple, yet meaningful gesture. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her onto his lap, wanting her closer to him, enjoying how she let him hold her, touch her and kiss her. Just being with her was enough.

“I missed you too, my love. And I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving you enough attention.” Nikolai whispered nuzzling her nose with his making her chuckle since she was ticklish.

 “Don’t be silly, Nik. I am no one, just one rowdy Grisha.”

“You.” he pecked her lips again “are everything. My love. My bride. And the queen to be.”

“Ugh….”

“Still don’t like that?”

“I don’t think I’m the queen material.” She squirmed in his lap and it made him a bit too excited “I hate all that panoply and sumptuousness.”

“Do you even know me?” he groaned when she moved more “I’m the least pompous of my family. Do you remember our time on the Volkvolny? Definitely not a prince-like behavior back then.”

“Oh I remember some of that” she smirked locking hands on his neck and whispering in his ear “I also remember bringing the heat without using Inferni skills.”

“Uh… Um… yeah. You see, being a queen comes with one more benefit. “

“And what is that?” she feigned curiosity, even if the evidence was more than palpable

“You get to be the only person the king will kneel for….” He mumbled, kissing her cheek “Love.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I’ll leave with you with that thought.” With one single motion he moved her away and sat back next to him “maybe you won’t be hiding in the middle of the forest in the future.”

“I will. I definitely won’t stop on your account, love.” Y/N rolled her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. There would be time to tease him and get revenge later on. Judging by the circumstances it would be painfully easy to make him fulfill that promise. But not now. “Nik?” she whispered, calming down

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we just stay here for a while? I need some peace…. And I want you with me. Just like this.”

“If you think you can get rid of me now you’re crazy. I’m not going anywhere far from….”

“From what?”

“From the person I love.” He answered and just to accent and emphasize those words raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

At this moment she really wished she was a tidemaker or a squaller. She would definitely disobey all the rules of not messing with nature and will make it rain till the end of the world if it meant just being with him away from the world.

[aspd-culture]

Contributing to the conversation, I think it’s, I’m gonna be honest, more likely that emotional abuse would boost the chances of aspd forming because children as a demographic are routinely gaslit, emotionally abused, dehumanized, and treated as property both by their caregivers (be they family, guardians, or teachers) or peers (other kids in school). Being dehumanized routinely as a child and thinking this is all you are to others, it would make sense that being on the receiving end of ‘antisocial treatment’ (as in, things that would prohibit social camaraderie and communal relations) would contribute to an antisocial mindset that persists in life.

Aspd is very specifically also a heavy impulse-based disorder too, underdeveloped frontal lobe and prolonged emotional trauma before the healthy development of that lobe that manages impulse control in social settings met with emotional abuse, it’s probably also why a lot of kids who do develop aspd could also end up with an exception for the person who treated them like a person but one person obviously cannot offset All of the damage the rest of their environment caused. I think aspd is perhaps somewhat more underdiagnosed *because* people don’t provide a lot of support to pwaspd when they’re adults because the adult with aspd has so thoroughly alienated themselves through their disorder that people just don’t care if they get help or communal care. Because it’s easier to just let pwaspd fall through the cracks because they’re “evil” and “don’t deserve it”.

So now you have someone who has spent their entire lives being proven left and right that they’re not cared about so “why the fuck should they care about anyone else, care is obviously conditional on my behavior and even when I mask, I’m not good enough”. Anyways, yeah, I absolutely think prolonged emotional abuse is absolutely a valid and understandable cause of aspd when we look at how we treat kids.

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

Plain text below the cut:

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

Hi Dee! So who do you think is more of a risk taker, Arthur or Eames?

Most of Arthur’s motives on the job seem to be to protect his team from danger, but I usually headcanon him as being quite fearless and maybe enjoying the thrill of danger for himself. Enjoying being thrown any sort of unexpected shit and still coming up on top, that's his point of pride and what makes him best as his job (and of course his level of preparedness helps but as we saw there's always something that comes up).

On the other end Eames reads to me as someone who's rather cautious and cares about his own safety, probably before anyone else (with the exception of Arthur, he'd do anything for him). He seems to be more one for an intellectual challenge, and unleashing the full power of a mind's creativity is what gets him off, so to speak.

Does it make sense? That's how I read them but sometimes it seems a bit contradicting, I don't know. Do you read them differently?

I’m sorry I took a lot of time this is such a great ask I had so much fun thinking about this thanks for sending this ily val ♥️

one of the best qualities arthur and eames as characters have is being able to carry two very contradicting traits at the same time. imo, that’s the reason that they’ve continued to stand the test of time as well and the reason why we can easily imagine them in any given situation or an au. pirates? yes! bakery owners? yes yes! pirates who sell fluffy crumpets? yes yes yes!!

having said that, I absolutely agree with you. arthur often being a very cautious guy because he has already thought of (and is secretly enjoying) the most unprecedented and unpredicted thing that can happen and eames being a natural risk taker because he is already well prepared and has made five different escape plans (in his secret moleskin) , makes so much sense.

an on dreamhusbands (my favourite) front, it again hits home cause, what if the reason arthur and eames didn’t see eye to eye the first few times they crossed paths was because they thought the other one was too cautious or too reckless? and the relationship slowly growing as the time goes on, when they realise that the rigid point man is actually quite impressive and the sloppy forger is actually very specific?

it also brings a sense of comfort they can find in each other ; about the whole “relationships where you can rest”.. for arthur, he finds someone who he can rely on the days wants to try the deep end himself, knowing eames will excellently cover his 6o clock and be very creaful about it, and for eames, he finds someone who is willing to take his hand and promise him everything is gonna be just fine, so therefore no, you must never be afraid to dream a little bigger?

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status: Ch 8 - Two Truths and a Lie

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

Read on Ao3

Chapter 8: Two Truths and a Lie

Adrien heard the tap on his window. A grin immediately bloomed across his face even before he turned to her. 

She liked him. She knew him in her regular life and she liked him. 

He let her in, still grinning like an idiot.

“You’re in a good mood,” she observed, smiling back at him. 

“You’re here. How could my day get any better?” Was it too much? Maybe, but he couldn’t give her more of an explanation.

Pink dusted her cheeks, and she glanced away. 

His heart jumped in his chest. Had he always been able to do that? Because she liked him! And he just hadn’t noticed, hadn’t realized he was the luckiest boy in all of Paris?

“How can I be of service?” he asked, his smile still in full force. He needed to find some chill before she assumed he was happy that she was having problems.  

She bit her lip. “I umm… I need your help.” 

He nodded. “With the reaction to the video?” 

“Yeah. I need to fix this. I know you’re out of your depth, but will you help me anyway?” 

“Always m’L-Ladybug! Always!”

She smiled softly. “I don’t know how I ever earned your friendship. Thank you.”

“I actually already have some ideas,” he told her, leading her to his desk already set out with two chairs. “I think the biggest issue is that you keep getting taken out of context. First, never say anything to the reporters at the tail end of a battle or when you’re out and about. And if a candid video looks bad, still don’t offer comment to anyone you don’t know and trust.” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. But how do I fix the damage already done?”

He grinned. “We need to humanize you again. We need to get you in front of a camera with an award winning journalist for a friendly interview where you’re not gonna get cut off.” 

Ladybug frowned. “Award winning journalist? Like who?” 

Adrien grinned. “One of your biggest fans, Alya Césaire.” 

…

Alya was vibrating in her seat as hard as Marinette did whenever Adrien offered her so much as a smile. Marinette had never seen her so giddy or excited. 

“Can you believe it?! Marinette! I’m getting an award this weekend from Ladybug herself!”

“Technically, the award is from the city,” Marinette corrected, grinning at her best friend.

Alya laughed. “Who cares! Ladybug is going to hand it to me! She’s going to be there specifically to honor me! How crazy is that?!”

Marinette shook her head. “Not crazy at all! You totally deserve all the recognition! I’m sure Ladybug agrees with me.” 

“So here’s your ticket,” Alya said, sliding over an envelope. 

Marinette’s smile fell off her face. “What? You’re not bringing Nino?” 

“Of course not! You believed in me before anyone! Plus, Nino would be super bored.” 

“He would not! He’s your boyfriend! It’s his job to support you in all your amazing awesomeness and success!” And Nino wanted to go into film. He was going to have to get good at going to awards dinners. 

Alya frowned. “Do you not want to come?” 

Marinette’s stomach churned. “It’s not that. Of course I want to come!” She was already coming! “I just can’t.” Her gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet Alya’s disappointment. “I’m uh… grounded.” 

“What?! Surely, your parents would make an exception for this? For me?” 

Marinette shook her head, still staring at her pink flats. “I don’t think so… they were really pissed.” 

She risked a glance up, and regretted it immediately. Alya’s expression now looked like the sun would never shine again. 

Marinette blinked back the sudden burn behind her eyes. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

“But even if I’m not there, you’re getting the most amazing award that you absolutely deserve! I couldn’t not be more proud of you!” Marinette pulled Alya into a hug to hide her own tears. 

“It won’t be the same without you there,” Alya whispered.  

…

Ladybug stood on the stage, trying not to bounce on her toes in her excitement, when the emcee called Alya’s name up to be recognized. 

Alya stood from her table and made her way up the stairs on the side of the stage. 

But something was wrong. Alya was smiling, but it felt professional rather than the gleeful excitement Marinette had observed just the day before. 

Ladybug offered the award, framed in a dark wood with a beaming smile. She shook Alya’s hands maybe a little harder than was strictly necessary, but this was Alya! Her best friend who was being recognized as a professional when she was still a minor. It was a huge deal.

Alya should be over the moon. 

Marinette wanted her to be over the moon!

“Congratulations, Alya! I was so excited the moment I heard they wanted to honor you.”

Alya's smile stretched wider for a second. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“Is something wrong?” Ladybug asked, glancing towards Alya’s table. The seat beside hers was empty. Nino hadn’t come. 

“My best friend isn’t here,” Alya admitted, under the cover of the audience’s applause. “I thought she would have moved mountains to be here. She’s apparently grounded, but she’s also so terrifyingly good at breaking out of and into all sorts of places, I thought she might still make it.”

Marinette’s throat felt tight. “I’m sure she’d be here if she could,” she managed.  

Alya smiled again, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Ladybug. It does mean a lot to me to receive this award and that you were the one to deliver it makes it mean more. Thank you.”

Marinette smiled for all she was worth. “You’re welcome! You definitely deserve it!” 

And then Alya stepped away, back towards her table, her shoulders slumped as she slipped back into her seat.

Marinette wilted. She had chosen wrong. She should have come as Marinette instead of Ladybug.

…

Marinette showed up to school the next day half an hour early with a box of macarons tight in her grip. 

Alya didn’t so much as smile at her when she arrived. Instead, Alya walked right past her. Marinette slipped beside her anyway. 

“How was it?” she asked, smiling.  

Alya didn’t look at her. “It was fine.”

It was so clearly not fine. 

“Look, I’m sorry!” Marinette whispered. “I couldn’t go. My parents—“

“I talked to Sabine,” Alya cut in, finally turning to stare directly at her. 

Marinette froze. 

“She thought you were coming to the event. Apparently you’ve been squealing about it for days . She told me you were proud of me and shared that she was, too.” 

Marinette’s mouth hung open, desperately searching for something, anything to say. 

“I-I was on my way—“ Marinette started. “I panicked.”

Alya turned away in disgust. “You bailed the day before! Said you were grounded! But you weren’t! I don’t get it! If what she said was true, then you were genuinely excited and happy for me, but you still didn’t come when you clearly could have! What else was so important that—“ Alya cut off,  her honey-brown eyes flooding with tears. 

“Alya,” Marinette said softly, reaching for Alya’s hand. “I’m sorry.” 

It wasn’t anywhere near enough. Marientte knew it, but she couldn’t say anything else.

Alya dodged just out of her reach, wiping away her own tears. “I didn’t tell her by the way.” 

Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Tell who?” 

“Your maman. I didn’t tell her that you weren’t there, but that’s the last time. I’m not covering for you anymore,” Alya told her coldly.

Marinette didn’t even care about that. She just wanted Alya to forgive her. She grabbed Alya’s shoulder.

“Alya, please!” she begged, crying. “How can I fix this?” 

“You could tell me what the hell is going on!” 

Marinette pressed her lips closed. She couldn’t do that either. 

“Good to know what our friendship means to you,” Alya bit out.

She shrugged Marinette’s hand off her shoulder and walked away.  

Marinette didn’t even try to fight her tears. 

… 

Adrien trudged up the stairs to his room after school. It had been a long day. Alya had been upset, which meant Nino was too. Marinette had never shown up at all. Adrien hoped she was okay. And then, Ms. Mendeleiev had been in a foul mood and surprised them all with a pop quiz. At least in spite of whatever was going on, Alya was still willing to gush about Ladybug with him during lunch, and she was enthusiastic about a possible interview. He couldn’t wait to tell Ladybug. 

If only he knew when the next time she would visit. 

He pushed open his bedroom door and immediately dropped his bag. 

She was already there, sitting on the floor against his bed with her knees to her chest. 

“Ladybug? Are you okay?” he asked. 

She burst into tears at the question.

He moved to her side faster than he would have for an akuma alert. 

Akuma’s didn’t make Ladybug cry. Not usually.

“What happened?” he asked.

“My best friend! She hates me!” 

“No one could hate you,” he insisted. 

“But she does. She’s so angry, she won’t talk to me at all. I tried to apologize, but I couldn’t explain,” she explained rapidly through her tears. 

“What happened?” he asked again, softly.

She swallowed and took a breath. Adrien rubbed the back of her neck the whole time. 

“I couldn’t go to something with her because I had to be somewhere else as Ladybug. But I couldn’t explain that. She knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t know why. And this thing was really important to her. I think I chose wrong. I should have gone with her instead of the Ladybug thing, but I didn’t. I thought it was more important to be somewhere as Ladybug. And now she’s never going to forgive me unless I explain, and I can’t explain.” 

Adrien squeezed her shoulder. “This might sound crazy, but have you ever thought about telling her?”

“Only a thousand times!” Her hands shot out to the side as she spoke. “But I can’t! I can’t put her whole life in danger just so I can keep her friendship!”

At least she was consistent with both her best friend and her superhero partner. 

“Maybe she’d think it was worth it,” he whispered. He always had thought that. 

“Maybe. But is it fair for me to make that decision for her?” 

“Does anyone know?” he asked, but he already knew.

She shook her head. "Chat wants us to share our identities. And sometimes I think he's right."

"You do?"

This was news to him.

She nodded, her arms wrapping around her knees. Her head rested on them, turned to him. "I think it would be easier in some ways. We could cover for one another, contact each other out of the suits, predict more accurately when one of us is likely to be late or not show up at all. And we could confide in each other more than we already do."

"So, why don't you then?"

"There's the obvious answer of the less people that know the easier it is to keep a secret. And that's still true. If we don't know we literally cannot give each other up. But honestly? I think I'd slip up. Like, if he gets hit, I might just scream his name. I have to make some hard decisions. And I already care about him so much. I think knowing who he is would make us closer. And I would be even more distracted, and unable to put him in danger even when I need to."

"You don't think you'd get used to it?"

She shrugged. "Probably eventually, but even a single mistake from either of us is potentially lethal. Seems safer not to risk it."

He was so surprised. He had always assumed that she didn't want to reveal identities because she didn't trust him or was trying to keep him at an arm's length. But really, it was just because she was trying to protect him.

She turned away, her chin still on her arms as she stared out the window. "He thinks he's in love with me,” she whispered.

"You don't think he is?" Because he definitely was and all these quiet times spent with her in his room had only solidified that fact for him. 

She shrugged. "He doesn't know me totally. He might be disappointed when he sees how much of a mess I am."

"Maybe he's a total mess too."

She laughed. "He seems so happy and confident, like, all of the time."

"So do you."

She scoffed. “Certainly, you know that’s not true by now.”

“I just meant—“

She laughed, leaning into his space. “You know, I think you might know me better than him now.” 

He swallowed. She was so close. “Yeah?” he breathed. 

“Yeah,” she whispered the word right against his lips. And then her lips were on his.

She tasted of slightly of salt. She had been crying, he distantly recalled. 

He kissed her harder. 

Because maybe, just maybe because he was the luckiest boy in all of Paris, maybe the whole world, he could do something to turn her day around, to make her feel better. 

Because he was never going to forget this day or this moment. 

And he didn’t want her to forget it either. 

… 

"What do you hate most about having a double life?" Alya asked.

Ladybug folded her hands on her knee and forced herself to look right at Alya who was sitting beside the camera they had set up in her room. 

"In order for Ladybug to be reliable, my civilian self has had to become the opposite. My friends get mad at me for disappearing or flaking altogether with the lamest excuses. My best friend especially often suspects I'm not being honest. My parents are constantly disappointed with the number of truancies I've managed to rack up. I've been questioned about doing drugs, having sex, joining a gang, and the list goes on.”

Alya frowned sympathetically. “That sounds hard.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could tell them, but doing that would put all of them in danger, and I’m just not willing to trade their well-being for thinking well of me.” 

“Wow. They’re lucky to have you even if they don’t know it.”

Ladybug smiled. “That means so much coming from you. Thank you.” 

“Does this mean there’s no love interests for Ladybug either?” 

Ladybug felt the heat burn in each cheek.

“Oooh! Is there someone?” 

Ladybug tapped her own lip. “Well, this lady never kisses and tells.”

“Ah! Ladybug, you’re killing me and all your supporters, too!” 

She laughed. It almost felt like they were just hanging out. Like, everything was fixed between them. 

She wished she could tell Alya that she had finally kissed Adrien, but she had kissed him as Ladybug, not as Marinette. And Alya wasn’t talking to Marinette, but she thought Alya would be proud of her for making the first move, and she hoped that with time, Alya would forgive her for her latest lie.

But Alya was also right that there probably shouldn't be any love interests for Ladybug. She was putting him in danger too.

It wasn't fair.

...

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Chapter Six: You Got Inside My Head & Set A Fire There Instead

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts, and we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face. And I’ve always lived like this; keeping a comfortable distance, and up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness, ‘cause none of it was ever worth the risk.- Paramore, The Only Exception

Lea really hadn’t meant to stick around for so long. She’d figured that once he’d, uhhh, ‘claimed’ her or whatever, that would be enough, that she’d be able to go back to her shared shoebox apartment with its windows all facing brick walls and the kitchen she couldn’t turn around in and the doors that didn’t stay closed and her cold bed, to her rapidly increasing student loan debt and her crippling anxiety and the constant, neverending sense that something about her life was wrong.

In any case, she had intended to go home once Tim was in the clear.

She was showering the following afternoon, staring out the window that overlooked the city. Water droplets from the shower dripped down the glass, and Lea sighed, tilting her head back to finish rinsing her hair and wondering how in the hell she was gonna go back home after all this.

“Well that’s a sight I could get used to.”

She damn near jumped a foot in the air at Tim’s voice echoing off the marble floors, immediately rushing to hide behind the wall of the large shower.

He laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, I was just appreciating the view!”

Lea blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. She still hadn’t fully processed the night before, and here she was, butt naked, totally regretting using his shower rather than one of the ones in the guest rooms. He had fuckin’ five of them, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t space.

After several bests of silence, the only sound the running water from the shower, he softly said, “Are you afraid of me?”

Lea jolted towards the clear shower door, looking at him around the corner of the wall. “Of course not!” she squeaked, eyes wide.

He looked back at her, his gaze sad. “Then why are you hiding from me?”

She glanced down briefly at his body, only just now noticing his nudity. “I just…” She gulped. “I just feel weird about you, like. Seeing me this way, y’know?”

Frowning outright then, Tim asked, “I’ll admit I’m pretty casual about being naked, living as an incubus for several thousand years will do that, but why on earth would you be shy with me?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “I’ll respect your feelings, don’t get me wrong, I just— you’re my mate, we had sex a few hours ago, and I legitimately cannot fathom why you’d feel weird. Will you please help me understand?”

“I’m… not used to being naked in front of anyone,” she admitted softly, standing back upright to lean against the wall of the shower, hidden from him again. “Like, okay, how often do you have to, y’know. Feed?”

There were a few seconds of silence as he considered this. “I dunno. Every few weeks, maybe?”

“Right,” Lea confirmed her understanding, “and do you feed from a different woman every time?”

“Usually, yeah,” he said slowly, as if he were trying to figure out where she was going with this.

“And that’s even when you were in relationships?”

He was silent for a few moments again. “I can only feed from humans, and I haven’t been involved with one romantically in I don’t even know how long—centuries, at the very least, maybe longer—, so I had to… with other women.”

“You were with another human before?”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“Her name was Alane.”

Lea’s heart thudded in her chest.

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

He sighed, and she heard him slide down the outside wall of the shower.

“I’ll have to tell you eventually, I guess.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured him hurriedly.

“No, you need to know.” A deep breath. “She was a Gaul, captured by Romans. I knew what they did to women, so I went to help. No clue why, I’m fucking useless with that kinda thing, but I went to help. But when I got there…” He let out a hoarse laugh. “She’d killed two of them and was working on a third.”

“Jesus,” Lea muttered.

“Totally covered in blood,” he went on, “I think she would’ve tried to kill me, too, if I hadn’t blurted some random shit out in French. Gave her enough pause to let me help her escape, I guess.”

“Then… why aren’t you with her now?” Lea asked softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the quiver in her voice.

“We were together for a few human lifetimes,” he admitted. “We were careful—we were so fucking careful—but birth control wasn’t an exact science then, and, well… I told you that most women can’t stay pregnant with an incubus’ baby.” Another snort. “Stubborn girl—she was a lot like you that way, actually; maybe that’s what attracted to me to her in the first place, was her similarities to my future mate—refused to let me get it flushed out of her. I told her, I told her she couldn’t survive it, but she was damned and determined to try anyway.”

“And then?” she asked shakily.

“She died.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. Regretful. “She died because she loved me.”

Despite the rather intense jealousy she was feeling, her heart ached for the pain he’d been through. It was clear he blamed himself for Alane’s death.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Lea reached out and opened the shower door. The hot water was beating against her skin, the sound of it almost drowning her out when she whispered, “You can come in, too.” A slight hesitation. “If— if you want, I mean.”

There was silence for a few long moments before she heard him stand, and then he stepped into the shower.

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his skin wasn’t sallow anymore; the bags under his eyes were gone, too. He was still a bit thinner than she knew was normal for him, but he definitely looked better. Healthier.

He closed the door behind him, gazing down at her and not taking his eyes off hers. “It wasn’t your fault, Tim.” He grimaced, so she reiterated, “It was not your fault. It wasn’t your fault she got pregnant. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault that she chose to continue the pregnancy, either. None of it was your fault.”

He wasn’t grimacing anymore, just kinda studying her expression. “You aren’t jealous?” He looked almost disappointed, the prick.

“I never said I wasn’t jealous,” Lea admitted slowly, “but I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

A small, soft smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and he took a step closer to her, taking one of her hands in his. “Everything’s less painful when I look at you,” he murmured. “Hearing your voice, seeing you smile, touching your skin— it sets me at ease. Even when I was close to death, whenever you were next to me, it felt like everything would be alright.”

Tears filled her eyes at that, and she looked away. “Tim��”

“I think,” he went on in that soft, sweet voice, “that I could conquer the world if you held my hand while I did it.” After a moment, he added, “Plus, you’re jealous, it’s very obvious, and it’s awesome—“

Lea flushed, crossing her arms over her breasts with a grumble of, “Like you wouldn’t be jealous, too, demon boy.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “You kidding? I’m jealous of everyone that’s so much as looked at you.”

“You’re a dork,” she muttered, fighting off a smile.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I just love you.”

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling then.

“Are you done showering?” he asked quietly.

Lea blinked, surprised at the question. “I should probably rinse my hair again. Might still have conditioner in it.”

He stepped closer, and her heart lurched up into her throat at the anticipation of feeling his skin against hers again, but he just reached behind her and took the handheld shower nozzle. 

“Turn around.” It was a soft, gentle command, but it was a command nonetheless. Steadfastly ignoring the fluttering in her abdomen, she obeyed, turning to face the marble tiles of the wall and adjusting her hair so it fell in a wave of dark red curls down her back.

“Lean your head back,” he told her gently. She did so, keeping her eyes shut, and he held the nozzle close to her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to miss anything. “Did you comb your hair out already?”

“Y— yeah,” she mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction of the wide-tooth comb that sat on the ledge with the various shower-related items.

He hummed before continuing to rinse out her hair in silence.

Once he was done, he leaned forward to replace the shower nozzle again, and the one on the ceiling began to cascade down onto them once more. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her so her back was against his chest. And stomach, too, because he was a tall bastard.

Tim’s arms were around her waist, just below her breasts, and his thumb brushed the underside of one of them.

Lea gulped anxiously, wishing he’d touch her fully, grab her breast the way he’d done the night before. “How are you, uh… how are you feeling?”

“What d’you mean?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Well, you almost died yesterday,” she said slowly. “So, how are you feeling?”

His arms tightened around her. “I’m alive. You’re here. I’m alive because you’re here. So I’m doing pretty fuckin’ awesome, I’d say.”

She reached up and brushed her hand gently over one of his, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

She felt him shrug. “I wasn’t expecting to be, but I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not thrilled about you loving me.” He paused momentarily before admitting, “And also that you let me fuck you. That was pretty great.”

He moved her hair to one side and started kissing her neck then, and she squeaked in surprise. “Are you, uh… are you hungry again? Not— not for food, I mean, but like, for… y’know…”

She could hear the smirk in his voice, feel it against the damp skin of her neck. “I only need to feed every few weeks,” he reminded her. “However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you again, because I very much do. It’s less about my biological need for it and more about my love for my incredibly sexy mate and the natural desire I have to watch said mate’s tits bounce as I fuck her until she cums on my cock.”

Lea’s face flamed, the sensation intensifying further when she realized he was hard behind her.

“But,” he was saying, “we don’t have to. I will never try to make you or convince you to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“I know,” she said, tightening her fingers over his. “You almost died ‘cause you didn’t wanna risk guilting me.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding down her side to grasp her hip firmly. “God do I want you.”

“Tim,” she exhaled, leaning back against his chest.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse, desperate, and he went on, “Do you want that? I won’t ask you to if you don’t want it, but if you do…” 

Flushing, she looked at her feet and said, “Maybe we could… go back to bed?”

“If you want.” He shrugged before gesturing to the windows. “The windows are tinted, though. No one can see in; they look completely black from outside.”

She blinked rapidly, eyes wide. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Tim confirmed, taking her hand in his. “So why don’t you just jump up here—“ he guided her to the windowsill, encouraging her to sit down. “—And spread your legs for me?”

“Are you sure you wanna—“

“Lea,” he cut her off, voice serious, “knowing you want me, I think that I cannot possibly handle the prospect of not having you.”

“O— okay,” she managed. 

“Good girl,” he praised with a smirk, stepping between her legs, his hands on her knees. “Gonna make you feel good, baby.” He reached between them, gripping his dick and guiding it to her entrance, pressing against her.

Lea bit her lip, whimpering. “Please, Tim, I can’t—“

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he crooned gently, rubbing his cock up and down her folds teasingly. “Tell me what you want.”

Embarrassment gone, she begged, “Want it, want you, want you inside me—“

“Good girl,” he told her again before sliding into her.

She moaned, her head falling back against the glass of the window.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunted, pulling out briefly before slamming back in. 

He was looking down at her, and she marveled at how gorgeous he was; the city lights behind her were glinting off his jawline and cheekbones and those red fucking eyes—god, he was feeding from her again, he was feeding from her again—, and his hair hung in soaked curls, longer than it usually was so it nearly brushed his shoulders, water droplets falling from the tips of the strands and onto his bare skin.

It was looking at him, at how insanely, ridiculously, unfairly sexy he was, that caused a desperate, fervent need to touch him to overtake her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. He obliged, slanting his lips over hers with a startling amount of ferocity, but it was short-lived because then he was trailing kisses down the column of her throat before taking the tender skin between his teeth and sucking. 

Moaning, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he groaned at the sound she’d made, thrusting in again. “Made for me,” he grunted against her damp skin. “This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.”

Her fingers tightened around his curls, holding him against her neck as he repeatedly kissed the bruise he’d given her. “Feels— feels good,” she gasped out, spreading her legs wider, wanting him to fuck her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t walk or move or breathe.

Tim righted himself again, leaning his forehead against hers, his red eyes boring into hers, pinning her there against the window as if each snap of his hips didn’t have the same effect. “You like it?” he wanted to know, the words an exhalation brushing against her lips. “You like it when I fuck you?”

Nodding jerkily, Lea arched into his touch when he reached down to grasp one of her breasts, tugging sharply on the nipple. “I like it,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “God, please don’t stop—“

His hips jackhammered against her, and he slid one hand up to cup her neck, the one on her breast moving to grasp her hip so as to hold her in place. “No god here, baby,” he muttered, stroking her skin affectionately. “Just you and me.”

Something about this statement made her feel as if she had the sun inside her, starlight under her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to keep him there, to stay there with him, safe in his apartment, their own little world. Nothing existed outside of what they had together, outside of what he was giving her, of what she was giving him. It was just the two of them, and she felt as if as long as he was touching her, nothing else ever could.

It was quiet and unprompted when she gasped out, “I love you. I love you, Tim.”

The hand he had on her neck slid up to her cheek, and he leaned down, kissing her with desperation equal to that of his thrusts into her. “I love you, too,” he said against her lips, into her mouth. “More than anything. You’re everything, Lea. Everything.”

She could’ve sworn that the sun inside her shone through at that, and if anyone looked at her, they’d go blind from it. Instead of responding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He let her, allowing her to kiss him as much as she wanted, returning her kiss with fervor. He took her lower lip between his teeth and tugged on it lightly, making her moan and close her eyes.

“No,” he growled when he released her lip. “Look at me. Look at me. I want you to see who’s fucking you, who’s making you feel like this. I don’t want you to ever forget.”

Lea opened her eyes, difficult as it was, and gasped out, “Could never forget you. Love you too much and you feel too good, fuck but you feel so good—“

His lips quirked into a smile against hers. “Yeah?” He kissed her again, the hand on her hip tightening, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Feels good when I give it to you, baby?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered, undulating her hips as best she could despite being seated and pressed up against the window. “More, I want more, please.”

“Such a polite request,” he mused, leaning down to kiss the bruises he’d left on her throat. “You know I’d never refuse you, don’t you? My sweet girl, all mine.”

He gave a particularly harsh thrust at that, and she moaned loudly in delight, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. “‘m yours,” she agreed immediately. “Yours, Tim, all yours— fuck—“

“Good girl,” he groaned, thrusting into her again. “Been waiting all my life for this, sweetheart, all my life for you, for your perfect little pussy, all for me, fuckin’ made for me, baby, made to take this cock.”

Something about what he was saying—babbling, if she were honest—made the heat that was already swirling in her abdomen to grow, intensifying further and spreading throughout her body, a tingling sensation that made her feel like she was burning, like there was fire beneath her skin, in her veins. She was made for him. She was his, she wanted to be his, to belong to him. How could she not, when belonging to him felt so good?

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, “can I make you cum? I wanna make you cum. I can feel the way you’re clenching around me, I know you want it, I can tell, just let me—“

“Yes,” she cut him off without hesitation. “Yes, you can make me cum, yes yes yes yes yes—“

“Fuck,” Tim grunted, snaking a hand between them to where they were joined and finding her clit with practiced ease. He may not have had much experience with her body specifically, but he knew exactly what to do anyway, how to make her quiver and shake and scream. Plus, by the time he brushed his fingertips over her clit, she was so turned on—by the way he was fucking her, the way he looked when he fucked her, how he was looking at her, the things he said as he pounded into her relentlessly, everything—that his touch had her moaning loudly, her toes curling. She was already so fucking close and he’d barely started stimulating her. “So good for me, sweetheart,” he groaned in her ear. “Give me those pretty little noises, baby, c’mon. Wanna hear you say my name.”

“Tim,” she moaned desperately. “Oh fuck, Tim, I’m gonna— I’m—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged gently, rubbing her clit faster. “Give it to me, Lea. Cum on my cock, wanna feel it.” When she moaned wordlessly—though his name could probably be deciphered if one tried hard enough—and tightened her legs around his waist, her core clenched down on him, and then a few more swipes to her clit combined with punishing thrusts had her bursting apart at the seams.

He fucked her through her orgasm, his eyes such a bright shade of red they almost glowed. Still, once it had ended, he didn’t stop rubbing at her, instead growling into her neck, “I want another. Gimme another, sweetheart.”

Lea’s pulse was thrumming in her clit already, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult feat to manage. He kissed her neck wetly, murmuring words she couldn’t quite hear into her skin. She couldn’t seem to formulate any speech at all, only capable of desperate, high-pitched keens of, “Ah, ah, ah, unh—” over and over again until his touch sent her over the edge a second time.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” he grunted. “So pretty when you fall apart, gonna fill you with my cum, Lea, fill this sweet little pussy up, love you so much, baby, so fuckin’ much, fuckin’ take it—”

She could do nothing but whimper and cling to him, yearning for him to cum inside her, to fill her exactly as he was promising to.

And then he did, release finding him with an almost pained-sounding moan of her name.

Her head was buzzing, her ears were ringing, and the room—the shower, they were still in the shower—was wobbling. So when he panted against her neck for a few minutes before pulling back to kiss her briefly and step away, she nearly collapsed to the marble tiles of the shower floor.

Tim caught her, pulling her close with one arm and reaching to turn the shower off with the other. “‘s okay, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to her scalp. “Let’s get you back in bed, okay?”

“O— okay,” she mumbled, her voice sounding groggy even to her own ears.

Tim opened the shower door and grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rod and drying her off, having her lean against the wall as he did so.

Was sex always so exhausting, or was it just her? Maybe it was ‘cause she had no experience prior to him.

He hung the towel back up and took her hand again. “Do you want me to carry you, sweetheart?”

“No,” Lea assured him, horrified at the thought even through her exhaustion. “I can walk.”

“Okay,” he agreed, though he sounded a bit reluctant, “I’m gonna be right here, so fall against me if you need to.”

She hummed in acknowledgment as they made their way out of the bathroom and back to bed. He pulled the covers up over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m gonna go make you some food, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled.

And then she was dead to the world.

Tim’s sweet, gentle voice eased her into wakefulness.

“Lea, sweetheart,” he said, a hand on her shoulder.

“Mmf,” she grunted into the pillow.

“I brought you some food,” he told her. “An omelet with hashbrowns and bacon. Extra crispy, just how you like it.”

The guy knew her well, he really did. But she was so tired.

“You’ll feel much better after you eat,” he promised. “Cmon, baby. Will you sit up for me?”

She groaned, pushing herself up onto her palms. “There you go, sweetheart,” Tim encouraged. “God, you’re so cute when you’re tired.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be this tired,” she grumbled in annoyance, tucking the blankets under her arms so her chest was covered. “I just woke up a little while ago.”

Tim blushed, settling the tray of food in her lap. “It’s, uh… it’s an incubus thing. You’re tired because I’ve consumed your energy. I’m sorry. I’d avoid it if I could.”

“Oh,” Lea said with a hum, picking up her knife and fork. “It’s okay. If the consequence of you not starving is me being tired, I don’t mind.”

“You’re a fuckin’ saint,” he muttered, sitting down on the bed next to her.

She let out an inelegant snort. “You make me tired and then provide me with food. Not gonna complain about it.”

“I absolutely do not deserve you.”

Lea glanced up at him from her meal. “You literally brought me breakfast in bed.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Don’t care,” she cut him off. “You’re being sweet. No complaints.” She smiled softly at him in reassurance.

He took her hand, holding it tightly in his. “Okay.”

He didn’t let go of her hand the entire time she was eating.

No, really. She really hadn’t meant to stay so long. She’d ended up staying for a month and a half, though. But in her defense, Tim was really sexy, and he was being so wonderful to her, and she loved him so much.

It was hard to reconcile with the fact that all of it was temporary, that she’d have to return to her boring, shoebox apartment and her day job.

And then she missed her period.

But it was nothing to worry about, right? There was no reason for her to be concerned. She was on birth control, had been for years. She’d missed periods before, usually when she was stressed. It was probably the next semester looming over her head.

Tim was ordering some delivery from the grocery store—he rarely went out for such things himself; a privacy concern, he’d said—and asked her if she needed anything.

He knew what sort of food she liked, so that wasn’t a concern. However, even if her period was late, she’d definitely be getting it soon.

“Uh, yeah,” she told him when he asked what she needed. “Some tampons, I think.” She paused. “And some Midol. And a heating pad.”

He blinked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Uh… okay, but why?”

She looked at him skeptically. “Why do you think? I’m about to get my period. It’s a little late, so it should be coming any day now.”

He frowned outright at that. “Um, Lea. There’s a reason your period is late.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, hunting through the drawer in his closet he’d temporarily dedicated to her clothes for a fresh pair of panties. “Stress about school, most likely.”

“No,” he said slowly. “It likely won’t be coming at all.”

She paused, turning around to face him. “Why not?”

“Because… because you’re almost certainly pregnant.”

Tag list

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To be added, please ask 💗

[sebastianshaw]

So, here’s my prediction on how Dark Web is gonna go. I’ve covered many times before how Duggan’s idea of feminism is literally the same as the sexist dudebros who complain about “woke media” he just treats it as a good thing---women being flawless beings who get to stomp every challenge effortlessly and don’t need shit like character development, men as inept doofs at best and two-dimensional abusers at worst and NONE of them can EVER actually be a challenge for the heroines or have any kind of pain or growth of their own, and should get as little screentime as possible---mixed in with his blatant fucking horniness. He thinks he writes feminist works---he has said this---but he writes a man’s idea of feminism who doesn’t know anything about it. So, all that said, since Maddie is a Sexy Sympathetic White Woman (the white part is important, Duggan will treat women and people in general as totally negligible if they’re NOT white unless forced) who was wronged by men and has a domme thing going on (which I think he likes, and, hey, I get that) I think he’s going to give her an “arc” (quotes because I expect it to be very clumsy and hamhanded) of realizing she doesn’t need to keep repeating this cycle and she should just go live her own life and do her own thing. Which would be awesome except. . .she was honestly on her way to doing that when Ayala left off. Duggan is the one who jettisons her right back into the fucking 80s. So if he DOES want to give her an arc, clearly he doesn’t care what kind of development anyone else has done, he’s going to undo it ASAP so he can start from square zero, which just....doesn’t work, and makes Maddie WAY more of a villain than she EVER was before. Because, while I admit I have not read this and NO ONE CAN MAKE ME, it thus far seems she just attacked New York again of her own totally free will because she’s upset at her past treatment. Which. . .really makes no sense for Maddie, because when she did that before, she was under demonic influence. Every time Maddie is in her own right mind, even when it’s as a villain, she doesn’t want to hurt innocent or uninvolved parties. For instance, in the 90s, she’ll kill Threnody for poking her wounds and try to attack Jean on sight, but she leaves Shaw because his evil activities are risking harming innocent people. Having her attack civilians en masse when she is, afaik, in her right mind and not influenced by anything, just because she’s upset at how totally unrelated parties treated her....yeah that actually does push her into truly evil territory, Duggan you dumbshit.  And even if it turns out something else is influencing her....did we need ANOTHER story where she doesn’t have her own agency? Again? Really? And either way, I just have the FEELING he will pat himself on the back for giving her The Feminist Redemption Arc She Deserves (in his mind) no matter how godawful it is and how badly it wrecks her character all over again. Or maybe I’m wrong and he’s just going to play her as a straight villain. Either way blows chunks. 

[scaramoon]

he accidentally hurts you while sparring

DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader

warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s

notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3

━━ diluc;

you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried

he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone

but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner

lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀

“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.

“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”

red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.

“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.

but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.

he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.

and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.

it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.

he couldn’t help it though.

“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.

“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”

you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.

he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.

“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?

“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.

he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”

“of course, dove.”

━━ kaeya;

he actually likes sparring with you

he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you

and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes

plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3

“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.

a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.

“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.

“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”

“y/n!”

the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.

“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”

“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.

his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.

“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”

he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.

“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”

“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”

“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”

“...fine.”

━━ xiao;

good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place

it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down

needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it

“what if i hurt you, y/n?”

“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”

“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”

“and if you can’t come?”

“...”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.

“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”

“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”

a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.

you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.

his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.

his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.

“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.

xiao did not cry.

he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.

you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.

“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”

it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”

he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”

“yeah.”

“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”

“of course not.”

━━ childe;

he has mixed feelings about sparring with you

of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it

plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else

but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt

he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful

“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.

“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.

“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.

you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.

this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.

he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you

“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”

for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’

“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”

you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.

“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.

‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’

“whatever ya want, love.”

“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”

[rnelodyy]

c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

[sleep3deprived]

Unspoken Words

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Warnings: Language, projected daddy issues (I'm sorry), break-up

Genre: Angst

Words: 1K

You: I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I can’t.

Kuroo: C’mon…don’t do this.

You: I’m sorry for the argument, I took it out of hand. But you know we can’t be together.

Kuroo: We’ll work this out, please.

You: I do love you. That’s why I’m sorry.

———

8 years and you’ve been doing good for yourself. I mean, it’s not like you’ve done anything super amazing, like becoming famous, but you’re thriving.

You’re a person in their mid-twenties, who’s exploring life but also just living. You’re doing good…happy you could say. Content.

You look down at your phone screen and check to see how you’re doing on time. ‘30 minutes till I gotta be in the office…not bad.’

Once you approach the coffee shop, you open the door, the light already shining through from the shop windows, the bell giving off a soft chime to alert others of a new visitor entering.

You make your way to the cashier, giving in your order. You head off to the side of the counter, waiting for your name to be called.

It was a pleasant day. You're right on time and in a fairly good mood. Nothing can make this day make you regret waking up- “Y/n?”

…Are you fucking kidding me?

“Omg hey, Kuroo! It’s been a while…” You look at the man who interrupted your thoughts.

Whoa, you understand 8 years is a petty long time, which it is in hindsight, but it’s as if he changed…yet he somehow managed to stay the same?

He definitely got taller, as if he needed any more height. His suit is fit snug onto him, tight enough to show off his healthy physique, yet loose enough to allow him to move around. The suit compliments him, making him appear professional…and attractive even. The hair…yeah that hasn’t really changed at all.

“How have you been doing?” You ask him, trying to make sense of what’s going on right now.

It was a messy breakup, you and any of your mutual friends will admit. And if you’re being honest, he was the first and only man you’ve loved. Not that you couldn’t find anyone else, it’s just that…he was someone that you couldn’t forget. Kuroo left an impression on you, as you have on him.

"I've been good, you know! Works been keeping me busy..." He tells you.

There was obviously some tenseness between the two of you. I mean, you haven't seen each other in 8 years. And when you did, it was a break-up through text. And it wasn't even clean.

Honestly, you didn't want to break up. You have strict parents, and back then in high school, you were on a strict leash, especially with boys. If your father found out about Kuroo, you could only imagine what he'd do, and you didn't want to risk it. So what did you do? The only conclusion you came to.

If you're gonna be totally real, you don't know if that was what you really wanted or if it was just an excuse you've been telling yourself to avoid the fact that Kuroo was getting too close to you, so you thought removing him from your life before he can leave will hurt less.

Whatever it was, it hurt but it was for the better you suppose.

The break-up happened pretty fast and you and Kuroo never really got the chance to ever talk about it. Then life got in the way and you both became a distant memory to each other.

Except for those late nights where you reminisce but doesn't everyone?

"I see you still drink your coffee the same." He says, pointing to the coffee with your name on it, the ice bringing the cup cool to touch.

You chuckle at what he said, surprised he still remembers how you drink it all these years later.

"Actually, I expanded my tastes. But nothing beats the original, right?"

Kuroo knew what you meant, but he also thought it had some underlying meaning. 'I'm probably overthinking.'

Kuroo was analyzing how you look since he spotted you. You've definitely matured, no longer being the simple 17-year-old you once were. It's easy to tell that you're about to head off to work, wearing a simple office-casual outfit, your work ID hanging from one of your pants hoop. Your hair is style simple, yet professional. You're even more beautiful than when he remembers you. But what catches his eye the most is the bright shine that comes from your hand.

You catch Kuroo's eyes, seeing them held onto your ring finger, the diamond being hard to ignore.

"I see you've been keeping busy as well." He jokes to you.

You hesitantly chuckled at what he said, looking down at your ring.

"Heh, yeah. It's pretty stressful, but he makes me happy..." You pause, noticing you've unconsciously started smiling thinking about your fiance.

Kuroo knows that look all too well. After all, you once gave him that look, too.

"What about you? Have anyone special?" You ask him.

He responds sheepishly, "Yeah, a girlfriend. She's nice, been together awhile..." 'but she's not you.'

"That's nice! How's your family doing? Been a while since I last talked to your sister." You asked him.

You were always close to his family. They treated you like their own, extended family and all. And since Kuroo's sister has no other sister, she always treated you like her own. Even with Kuroo's new girlfriend, his sister, or family in general, still have a soft spot for you.

Kuroo laughs, almost forgetting just how close you two actually were, "She's been good, still tormenting me and shit whenever she's visiting..."

You giggle at that, "So she hasn't changed then."

After you two finished sharing a laugh, the tension was eased just a little bit, but a pregnant pause still enveloped you two.

"I'm sorry for how things ended..."

"I know you are. It took me a while to get over you y'know." Kuroo tells you, a little upset.

"I know, I'm sorry. I- I don't know. It was what I thought was the best at the time...what could've been if..."

"I know- I know what you mean."

'What could've been...if we stayed together.'

Kuroo and you stared at each other's eyes. Unspoken words being said. Everything that's needed to be said within those years has been let out. It was the closure that you two needed, whether you two knew it or not.

It's been years. You've only ever been with one person since breaking up with Kuroo. And it took him almost a year or two to get over you, yet even then, it wasn't the same.

If Kuroo is being honest, he knew there was always an underlying reason why you broke up with him. He knew how you risked it all to be with him. So when it happened...out of nowhere...he was heartbroken. Heartbroken that you weren't his anymore.

Even after the breakup, you two prematurely stayed friends, regardless of that not lasting long, it was incredibly obvious you two still love each other. I mean, you did the same things couples would do.

But you didn't want to be with him.

Your father. Oh, of course, he knew that he's the main reason you're not with him now, and he didn't want to do anything that will risk your future. Which is the reason why Kuroo decided it's better to keep you in his life as a friend than you not in it at all.

The irony that it ended up happening anyways is something he finds slightly amusing.

If Kuroo is being real, and you are too...You guys are sure that if you two stayed together back then, you would still be together now. Countless nights have you two thought of each other. Of what the other is up to, or the finger ghosting on the social media profile. It hurts. Or it did. Now it just feels like a pinch.

But alas, you're each other's first love. History will always remain what it will always be...

History.

You missed him once upon a time. But now, you have someone new. You've grown from the 17-year old you once were. You're happy now with where you are. So is Kuroo.

But as you walk out of the coffee shop, and Kuroo waiting back inside, you two can't help but think.

'What if...?'

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

[darkmulti]

King of Hell

BTS

Series : part 1

Pairing: demon!Jungkook x human!Female Reader x demon!Taehyung x demon!Jimin

Genre: Angst & Smut

Word Count: 4.3K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY!

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A/N: SHAIWJW, IVE BEEN “WRITING” THIS FIC SINCE LAST YEAR, HOLY FUCK. Anyways I hope you enjoy this shitty story:)

These are the warnings for the entire series!! This is a dark fanfic that is not meant for everyone! If these warnings trigger you, please leave!!

Smut Warning(s): multiple smuts, cockwarming, face slapping, saliva kink, thigh riding, humiliation, heavy degradation, dacryphilia kink, threesome, anal, blowjob, somnophilia kink, mirror sex, choking, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, mix of ddlg, sleep sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, small bits of praising, marking, fear kink, cum shots, cum eating

Other Warning(s): possessive!Jungkook, blood, murder, torture, physical abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, submissive reader

I’m probably missing something...

THIS FIC CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong. But did she care?

No.

The girl laid supine on her boss's desk, sore legs bound around his torso, caging him in. His hand gently kneads her sensitive breast, earning soft moans from her. She grabbed his tie and tugged on it until he leaned down and passionately kissed her. The man gently pulled her up and swiftly wrapped his shapely arms around her body. She pulled away first, eager to catch her breath.

The excessive tension in the overheated room was unbearable. Her head remained low in embarrassment while her boss burned her with his gaze. To break up the tension, she awkwardly clears her throat and hops off his desk. For some reason, she desperately wanted to apologize but stopped herself. From what she remembers, her boss was undressing her with his eyes, so she let him have it. Deciding she’s not going to apologize, she frantically pulled up her skirt and opened the door to leave.

However, her boss was faster than her and instantly closed it again. He cupped her cheeks and attempted to kiss her again, but she stepped away. “I’m sorry, Dr. Kim. It’s getting late and my apartment is far from here, so I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taehyung scowled at her. It was insulting to him. No one has ever rejected his touch. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and flung her onto his desk. She groaned in pain, protecting her injured side. Taehyung clutched her face and attached his lips onto hers, kissing her like it was his last time. She instinctively kicked her legs at him, but that made him more belligerent.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” She yelled, throwing her hands against his chest, trying to get him off. Unfortunately, she was no match for him. Taehyung pinned her down without a struggle and pulled her skirt down again. “I tried being nice, princess. But now you’ve gotten on my nerves.” He growled, forcing his cock in, despite her screaming at him to stop.

A sadistic smirk appears on his face as he picks up his pace. His warm cock fitted inside of her perfectly. It was like they were made for each other. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling to the fullest. While Taehyung was on cloud nine, the girl was bawling her eyes out underneath him. “T- Taehyung! Stop! It h- hurts!” She sobbed uncontrollably, breath hitching. Her vision started to blur as she felt her energy drain out of her writhing body. She's never endured this much pain.

Taehyung grunts as he pushes himself forward one last time before cumming in her. “Fuck! You feel so good, baby.” He leaned down and licked her tears away. He then created a trail of hickeys along her jawline, down to her collar bone. “How about another round, babe?”

“No, no! Please, no! It hurts!” She hiccuped, putting her hands together. “Please, Dr. Kim. I’ll do anything except for this! I c- can give you money… if you’d like.” Taehyung couldn’t help himself. Watching her beg for mercy was a turn on. “I don’t need your filthy money, slut. Now stay still or else you're fired.”

He ruthlessly entered in again. She let out a painful whimper but didn’t dare to move because her job was on the line. Taehyung held her hips down and quickened his pace. The helpless girl was fighting off the urge to push him away with all her remaining strength. Soon enough, her legs trembled on their own as ripples of forced pleasure went through her body. More tears gathered in her fearful eyes. A minute passed, she was still sprawled on his desk, catching her breath. “C- can I pl- please leave now?” She faintly whispered, on the verge of passing out.

Taehyung pulled her ragged skirt up then pulled her upright. He moved her hair out of her face and tenderly caressed her cheek, admiring her face. “You won’t tell anyone about this, understand?” She sobbed but nodded her head. “Good… get your stuff, I’ll drive you home.”

“No, sir. It’s okay. I’ll call a taxi. You can go home.” Taehyung’s eyes darkened. He grabbed her neck and squeezed it. “You’re making me repeat myself, Y/N. You out of all people should know how much I hate doing that. Now for the last time, get your shit and I’ll drive you home.” He took a step back and followed her to her office. She quickly grabbed her purse and jacket, then they both headed out.

The car ride home was silent. She didn't dare to speak a word. Not after what he did to her. All she could do is keep her head down and play with the hem of her shirt. Taehyung glanced over at her here and there, but he too didn’t speak a word. He looked in his rear view mirror and spotted his best friend sitting in the back, staring at “his” girl. “Keep your eyes off of her. She’s already taken, Jungkook.”

Y/N flinched when Taehyung started talking. “Huh? Are you talking to me?” She asked, confused. Red flags were popping up but she couldn’t exactly jump onto the highway. She bit down on her lip and waited for a response. “Took you a while to detect my presence, Taehyung. I thought you could do better.” She immediately turned around and saw a man sitting in the middle seat, legs spread apart. His long, jet-black hair almost veiled his eyes, and he was covered in tattoos. “Who the hell are you?!” She slightly yells, clearly startled by the man. “I wouldn’t raise my voice if I were you, sweetheart. Anyone who disrespects me will regret it for the rest of their life and afterlife.” Jungkook mockingly said, confusing the girl even more. She turned to Taehyung for an explanation, but he simply rested his hand on her thigh. “Calm down, angel. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Bold of you to say that, Taehyung. You really think you can take me on?” Jungkook challenged.

“To keep her by my side, I’d knock you over without hesitation.” Taehyung said with a dull expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for this girl. Man, you keep letting me down. First living in the mortal world and now, falling in love. What’s next? Marriage? Family planning? Pathetic, Kim Taehyung. If Jimin were here, he’d be laughing his ass off.”

“If you have nothing nice to say, leave. I thought you didn’t enjoy the mortal world.”

“I don’t, I just wanted to see what my dearest friend is up to. I’m astonished, however. You managed to keep that unpleasant side of yours a secret.”

Taehyung glanced at his girl. Her face was pale and if you looked closely, she was shaking. Taehyung stroked her thigh in a soothing manner, signinally her to calm down. Out of fear, she clings to Taehyung’s hand tightly. This didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He sensed her fear the moment she sat in the car. He enjoyed watching her crumble apart in the passenger seat. She looked vulnerable and afraid, he wanted to ruin her innocent looking face.

“Stop gawking at my girlfriend, Kook. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“No, I actually don’t. Next month, I’ll be announced king, but until then, I’ll hang around you and this lovely princess.”

From that point on, Taehyung knew he couldn’t leave her alone. If he did, Jungkook would 100% hurt her or even worse, mark her as his own. Jungkook’s one selfish bastard. He will always put himself before others. Taehyung immediately knew Jungkook was attracted to her; he could tell just by observing the way Jungkook looked at her. But he wasn’t going to let Jungkook have her too. Originally, Taehyung was supposed to be king, but Jungkook was stubborn and wanted to fight for the title. Taehyung didn’t want to fight his best friend, so he willingly surrendered.

30 minutes later, he finally arrived at her apartment. She quietly thanked Taehyung for the ride, then got out. However, Taehyung turned off his engine and got out of his car. “I’m staying with you tonight.” Without question, she nodded her head and grabbed Taehyung’s hand. She was terrified of what was going on. Of course she wanted an explanation, but Taehyung seemed to be protecting her. Therefore, she thought it’d be the best to stay with him until she knows exactly what’s going on.

She opened her apartment door and set her purse and jacket on the table. “I’m gonna go shower… Make yourself at home... I guess.” She mumbled the last part and headed to her bathroom until Taehyung stopped her. “Mind if I join?” Taehyung hinted he needed to talk to her so she said yes. Meanwhile, Jungkook plopped down on the couch with his arm behind his head. “Got any bourbon?” He yelled and she responded, “the cabinet behind you has all the liquor I own.”

Taehyung pulled her into the bathroom and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry! I fucked everything up for you.”

“Taehyung, what are you talking about?” She worriedly asked. Taehyung looked at the door then quickly turned the shower on. “We have to be quiet. He might hear us.” “Please tell me what’s going on! Who is he? How did he get inside your car?!” She whispers as calmly as she can. “His name is Jeon Jungkook. Next month, he'll be announced king of hell. He’s a very powerful demon and currently, he’s looking for his queen. Someone who can be the mother of his children and someone he can somewhat tolerate. Y/N, he has his eyes on you. You need stay around me, so I can protect you. I know I hurt you not too long ago, but trust me on this one. Jungkook has anger issues and if he gets a hold of you, you will be his punching bag for eternity.”

“Demon? King of hell? Are you hearing yourself right now?” She whispers louder, being unable to control her anger and concern. “I’m not lying, Y/N. How else did he get into my car. Do you remember our conversation in the car? He said he didn't like the human world.”

“What about you? What are you?!”

“I’m a demon too.”

“Prove it because I don’t believe-” Taehyung towers over her and his eyes turn black. His teeth become insanely sharp and black, thick horns start coming out of his head. She stood there, staring at his true form. She reached out and touched his cheek which was freezing cold. “Demons are real?” She faintly whispered. “Take your clothes off. He’s coming.” Taehyung’s out of his clothes in a blink of an eye but she didn’t want to remove her clothes. Taehyung heard Jungkook getting closer, so he ripped her clothes off and pushed her in the shower. He followed behind and pinned her against the wall, kissing her forcefully. “He’s looking through the door, pretend you're enjoying it so we're unsuspicious.” She surprisingly listens and returns the kiss. Taehyung picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist, allowing him to enter her. “Moan loud for me, baby.” The girl digs her nails into his shoulder and releases her needy moans.

Jungkook was standing in the door way, watching Taehyung fuck the living out of her. What he would do to be in his position. A part of Jungkook was telling him to kill Taehyung and take his place. However, the other half of him knew that it would create a war between the Kim’s and the Jeon’s. Centuries of feuds have been going on between the two families and it finally ended when Taehyung’s father made a peace offering and Jungkook’s dad happily accepted. From there on, Taehyung and Jungkook grew up together as best friends. Jungkook stopped himself from making a big mistake but continued watching the two fuck.

Taehyung came in her one last time before pulling out and cleaning her up with some water. She clung onto Taehyung because she had no more feeling in her legs. Her clit was burning from the overstimulation, but she wasn’t complaining because it felt so good. He carried her back to her room and wiped her body off with a towel. Jungkook went back to the couch and tried to relax his mind. For some reason, her moans kept playing in his head and before he knew it, he was hard. “Shit!” He angrily muttered.

After tucking Y/N in, Taehyung came to the living room to see what Jungkook was doing. Jungkook was leaning on the balcony railing, staring at the full moon. “If you want, you can crash at my place.” Taehyung said, fiddling with his house keys. “Nah, I think I’ll stay right here… By the way, your girlfriend is hot. If she ever wants to have a threesome, tell her-”

“She doesn’t, Jungkook. One man is good enough for her.”

“That’s too bad. Well, tell her if she gets tired of you she can come to me any time and anywhere.” Jungkook cockishly smiled, raising one eyebrow. “Stop with the jokes, will you?” Taehyung's voice got deeper because he’s had enough of Jungkook’s irritating comments. “I’m going to bed now. Sleep on the couch or wander on the street, I don’t care. Just don’t kill anyone.” Taehyung said before leaving Jungkook alone on the balcony. “I'll try not to.”

Taehyung opened the door and saw Y/N struggling to fall asleep. He quickly got into her bed and pulled her into his comforting embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He carefully laid her face on his chest then ran his fingers through her smooth hair. “I love you so much. You don’t even know how long I’ve been watching you.”

“How long?” She whispers back. “First year of university was when I first saw you. Ever since then, I’ve been looking out for you.” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his body. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” Taehyung smiled, remembering why. “I’m a little shy.” She climbed up his chest and kissed him on the lips. “Is he gone?” She asked, tracing lines on Taehyung’s chest. “He’s gonna crash on your couch. Sorry about him, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay.”

Soon, silence took over the room and the girl fell asleep on Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung continued to play with her hair and trace her back until the door slightly opened. He saw Jungkook in the doorway and sighed. “What do you want now?”

“Her.”

Everything happened rapidly. The door swung open and all Taehyung saw were 2 red eyes staring him down. Before he could react, Jungkook knocked him out and pinned the girl’s body down. He entered into her sore cunt, causing her to wake up. As soon as she saw Jungkook’s face, she started to scream and fight. “Stop! Taehyung, help me!” She shook Taehyung’s body, but he was unresponsive. “What did you do to him?!”

“Shut up and cooperate with me or else I’ll take you to hell.” Jungkook swiftly got into a better position and let his raging boner free. The bed frame began banging against the wall harder and harder each time. Y/N was in a state of shock. She didn’t know what to do. Jungkook viciously thrusted into her and held her down by her neck. “No! Please! Stop!” Jungkook flipped her around and took her from behind. He spanked her ass multiple times, leaving his hand print on her skin. He pulled out and got up from the bed, dragging her along with him. “Look at yourself, you fucking slut.” Jungkook pulled her hair and forced her to look at herself in the mirror. “Watch me fuck you, slut. If I see your eyes aren’t open, I’ll slit your family's throat and send you pictures.”

“No! No! Please don’t! I- I won’t close my eyes, I promise.” Jungkook thrusted in again and had no mercy on her. Tears were rushing down her face but didn't once close her eyes. Jungkook deliberately went faster seeing if she could handle the pain. It took a lot out of her, but she didn’t want to put her family in danger so she listened to every order. Jungkook continued fucking her hard. He could sense the fear that was taking over her body. She was shaking and silently crying, but it merely encouraged him to go faster. At last, he pushed his whole length in and came deep inside her. She squirted around him and collapsed on the floor. “No more, please” “Get on your knees, now!” She whimpered but got on her knees. Jungkook didn’t waste a second to shove his whole cock in her mouth. He grabbed her face and started fucking her throat as fast as he could. After some time, hot cum was running down her throat as he finally pulled out. The poor girl was choking on her own saliva when Jungkook clutched her hair and spat in her mouth.

Jungkook wanted to go for another round, but someone hit his head, knocking him out. Jungkook fell to the floor, revealing a conscious Taehyung. He immediately picked her off the floor and hugged her tightly. She started sobbing on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. We have to leave.” He quietly spoke. Taehyung quickly cleaned her up and gave her some warm clothes to wear. He carried her out of the apartment and into his car. He quickly dialed someone’s number and stepped on the gas.

“Hello?”

“Jimin! Take your fucking brother back to hell. He’s lost his fucking mind. He knocked me unconscious and raped my girlfriend.”

“Holy shit! Where is he?”

Taehyung quickly informs Jimin of Jungkook’s location.

“I’ll pick him up. Just find a safe place, Tae.”

“Yeah, I will.”

—————————————————-

After receiving the call from Taehyung, Jimin rushed to Jungkook. He was still on the floor, passed out. “How hard did you hit him, Taehyung?” Jimin muttered before bringing Jungkook back to hell and chaining him up.

Jungkook woke up with his head pounding. He groaned and looked at his surroundings. “What the hell?” He spoke in a raspy voice. “Wake up, brother. Taehyung informed me you were up to no good.” Right, that bastard Taehyung, he thought. Memories of last night came rushing to his head and he couldn't help but smile. “Where’s Y/N?” Jungkook asked, replaying last night in his head. “Y/N? As in Taehyung’s girlfriend?”

“Don’t call her Taehyung’s girlfriend. Soon, she’ll find her way back to me.”

“Brother, I knew you were absurd, but fucking Taehyung’s girlfriend? Really?”

“You’ve never seen her before, so you won’t understand. But as soon as you get close to her, I ensure you, you won’t be capable of controlling yourself.”

“I’ll see for myself.” Jimin said before getting up and closing the heavy metal door, leaving Jungkook alone.

————————————

1 month later

After the incident with Jungkook, Y/N and Taehyung got into a serious relationship. Every single day, Taehyung worked on becoming stronger to protect his beloved. He felt remorseful for placing her in this kind of situation, so the least he could do is protect her. Y/N was deeply in love with Taehyung. At first, she kept telling herself she only wants him around so he can keep her safe, however she couldn’t help herself. She let go of what he did in the past and focused on the present.

“Taehyung! I’m home!” Taehyung pops his head from the kitchen and she swiftly runs into his embrace. “I missed you.” She pouted her lips and kissed him. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I missed you more.” She giggles at his response and pecks him all over his face. Taehyung picked her up and sat on the couch with her on his lap. A sweet make out turned into a heated one quickly. She tugged on his shirt then removed it for him and he did the same for her. “How about we try something different?” Taehyung placed her on one of his thighs and placed both of his hands on her ass. “Ride my thigh, angel.” She started moving slowly, unsure of how it might feel. Once her clit started getting some stimulation, she kept going faster and faster, falling apart in Taehyung’s arms. She clenched and came around nothing while Taehyung attacked her tits with his mouth. He left a trail of hickeys all over her upper chest. Taehyung came in his pants just from watching her and feeling her juices leak onto his thigh.

They both eagerly kissed each other until Y/N pulled away. “Can we go out for dinner? I don’t feel like cooking today.” She panted, playing with Taehyung’s hair. “Of course we can.”

——————————————-

The long-awaited day had finally come. The crowd was larger than it ever had been. Everyone came down to watch the ritual and pay their respects to the new king. Torches were pointed downward, symbolizing death. In the middle of the stadium, there was a massive platform. On the platform, there was a throne, a crown, a pentagram and a tied up angel for the sacrifice. Jimin and his father stood side by side, wearing black suits. The crowd went silent when everyone detected a compelling, cold presence. Jungkook revealed himself from the shadows in his true form. He was shirtless with only a thin fabric wrapped around his waist. He walked to the platform and laid down on the pentagram. Everyone knew, this was the beginning of a new chapter.

Moments later Jungkook was screaming in pain. His body became a portal for all the previous kings. They were passing their abilities down to him, resulting in Jungkook's chest and back being burned. Everyone in the audience stood up and started chanting. Jungkook sat upright and headed towards the angel who was pleading for mercy. He manipulated his sharp nail and slit their throat, killing them in a matter of seconds. He attached his mouth onto their neck as the chanting got louder. The warm, thick liquid gliding down his throat was incredibly addictive. Jungkook could feel his power triple in seconds. He tossed the deceased angel away like a rag doll then faced his people. He stretched his wings and grew out his horns.

“I am honoured to be your new king. Thank you to everyone who came to watch the ritual. Please know I’ve acknowledged your presence and respect. I greatly appreciate it.”

Everyone applauded for Jungkook. Surviving the ritual requires an enormous amount of strength. Jungkook has proved to everyone that he is worthy of being king.

——————————-

“Are you ready? I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.” Taehyung said, sitting down on the couch. He was dressed up in his black suit and tie, looking flawless like always. 5 minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t heard a word from her. “Angel? What’s taking so long? Do you need help with your dress?” Taehyung walked back to their shared bedroom only to see Jungkook holding her down with his sharp nail on her neck. “I’m giving you two options, Taehyung. Let me have her, and I won’t hurt her or, she dies, I take her back to hell and torture her for eternity. What will it be, Taehyung?” All Taehyung saw was red. Without realizing, he changed into his demon form and attacked Jungkook. He managed to get him off of her, but strength and power wise, Taehyung was no match. Jungkook punched him over and over, until his nose and jaw was broken.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I let you have everything! I gave it all up for you because I wanted to be a good friend! One good thing happens in my life and you fucking take it away!” Taehyung yelled, managing to punch him one last time. Y/N sprinted off the bed and rushed to Taehyung’s side. She didn’t care that Jungkook was there, all she cared about was Taehyung. “Taehyung! You’re bleeding! What should I do?! Should I call the ambulance?!” Taehyung looked into her eyes and his heart softened. Tears were streaming down her face. She was actually worried about him. Even after he revealed his true form, she stayed by his side. Does that mean she loves him? Taehyung slightly smiled. “I’ll be alright, love. I’ll heal by tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.” Jungkook interjected as he got up and kicked Taehyung’s head. “STOP!” She screamed, protecting Taehyung with her body. She wrapped her arms around his head so Jungkook couldn't kick him. “C- can’t you see he’s hurt?! Leave him alone!” She bawled. “I’m not going to leave him alone until he makes a decision. So Taehyung, what will it be?” Taehyung wrapped his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go. “There are billions of other people in the world. Why do you want MY girlfriend?!”

“Don’t question me, Taehyung. Now give me her, or I’ll have to forcefully take her.”

Y/N started sobbing on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Please don’t take him away from me. I love him. Please don’t.” She begged, her tears staining Taehyung’s shirt. Jungkook was slowly starting to lose his temper. He massaged his temples then grabbed her arm, prying her off and away from Taehyung. “If you don’t come back with me to hell, I’ll kill Taehyung right here right now. Or better yet, I’ll make you help me kill him.”

Y/N began to shake. “Please don’t hurt him. I’ll go back with you.”

“No! Y/N he’s going to hurt you! Jungkook you can kill me but leave her alone after I die. You break the promise and will die too.”

“No, Taehyung! I can’t let you die! You can’t leave me alone!” Jungkook pushed the girl back and kicked Taehyung in the stomach. “If you want her so badly, you’re going to have to fight me.” With that, Jungkook turned around, picked her up and disappeared. “NO! Shit! Shit!” Taehyung cursed at himself.

Once again, he failed to protect his love.

——————————————————————————

Uhhh, hi🤠

This is terrible and I’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to your expectations. I completely understand because many people have been waiting for this fic to release and it’s not even good. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed what part 1 has to offer. At first, I didn’t want to make this into a series because I’m very inconsistent. However, I had a sickening plot in mind that I really wanted to do, so the next best option was to make this into a series.

I know, not a lot of Jimin was in this, but the next couple of parts will have him.

xoxo,

naina❣️

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Four

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Manipulation, Fluff, Smut, 

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Hello and welcome, formally, to part four. I hope you all had a lovely weekend and have an amazing week! I love you all very much.

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

You sit nervously on the lip of the bathtub, picking at the skin around your thumbnail as you wait for the timer to ring.

It feels like it’s been hours already.

“It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry. If it isn’t positive, we’ll just keep trying.”

Steve's words don’t ease your anxiety the way he thinks they do.

Your eyes are trained on the timer, counting down the seconds, though you already have a feeling of what the tests are going to say.

The alarm sounds like war drums and you’re racing for the row of sticks on the bathroom counter, your heart dropping into your stomach as you inspect them.

Positive.

Every single one of them.

Tears fill your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

There it goes.

Your last shred of hope for gaining freedom. Out the window, just like that.

Steve’s arms come up around your shoulders, hugging you tightly.

“I knew it. I just... I knew. You smell different, your breasts are bigger. I fucking knew it.”

He nudges his nose against your cheek until you finally tilt your head back, and then his lips are on yours.

You don't fight him, too hopeless to even try anymore.

Your tears are salty, you can taste them on his lips, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all by them. No, he still kisses you, walks you out of the bathroom towards the bed.

He helps you out of your clothes, his hands groping and squeezing every inch of you as if he’s never felt you before, as if you’re the first woman he’s touched in forever.

The tears are steady, continuing down your face as he pushes you gently onto the bed, his lips trailing over your inner thighs while his eyes raise to yours.

“We’re gonna have another baby, honey. I always knew your body was perfect. Absolutely made for me. And now you’re gonna give me another baby. You’re gonna grow all nice and round...” He trails off, his eyes dark and full of lust as he gazes down at your stomach as if picturing you pregnant again.

“C’mon, darling. We need to celebrate.” He sheds his clothes so that you’re both naked, his warm body pressed tightly against yours, though it does little to quell the shivers of distress rolling down your spine.

Pregnant. Again.

He places kiss after kiss onto your neck, trailing down to your breasts and halting there.

“Can’t wait for you to be nice and big again, all full and round because of me. Fuck, can’t wait ‘till you start makin’ milk again, honey.”

His lips latch around your nipple, sucking hard enough to make your back arch, a whine of pain and pleasure rolling out of your mouth.

“That’s it. M’gonna make you feel nice, honey. Gonna make you feel loved. You know I love you, huh? Yeah. I do.”

His words make your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots, and you close your eyes to avoid the intensity of his gaze. You focus instead on the feel of his body against yours, nice and warm and heavy.

One of his hands snakes between your legs, toying with your clit and dipping into your heat to prepare you for his cock.

“Getting all wet and messy for me, huh?” Your eyes remain shut, blocking out his face, the face of the man who’s done so many atrocious things to you.

He thrusts his fingers in and out rather slowly, dragging them against your sensitive walls until he deems you ready enough for him, though there’s no way to truly be ready for him.

He positions himself between your legs, perched on his haunches while his hands rub over your thighs gently.

“Can’t wait for you to have my baby, sweetheart. Gonna watch you get all nice and full, bring another life into this world for me. That’s what you’re here for, darling.”

He slides his manhood through your folds, coating himself in your essence before slowly pushing into you, forcing every inch into your tight wet heat.

Your mouth drops open, brows pulling together at the stretch of him so deep inside of you, pushing against every resistance your body brings forth. He forces himself into you until he’s seated comfortably, cock held tightly by your fluttering walls.

“Fuck, feel that. Feel you. So tight... tight ‘n wet. Fuck... Fuck...”

He pulls back then pushes in, each thrust slow and precise and far too good. You hate how good he makes you feel, how well he knows your body. You hate how good you feel beneath him, how right it feels to be with him, to be held in his arms.

And you fucking hate him for making you enjoy a single second of time spent with him.

His thrusts speed up until he’s hammering his hips into yours, each movement of his hips forcing his cock to press against your cervix painfully, but the pain is welcome.

It’s what you deserve for enjoying it.

A soft moan falls from your lips when he drops his hand between your legs, fingers working your clit with practiced ease.

He’s spent months learning and re-learning your body, he knows you almost as well as he knows himself, and if the only way you want him is physically then fine, but he’s going to make that want stronger than your hatred for him.

“O-oh god...” Your eyes squeeze shut as the edge creeps closer, each pass of his thumb on your clit and his cock between your walls bringing it so much nearer.

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” You nod, if only so he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck, you feel so good, darling... so good.” He picks up speed, and you get lost in your orgasm like a leaf in a windstorm.

It picks you up and pulls you from reality. Bliss clouds your mind, your senses, and nothing matters except the rolling waves of pleasure flooding you.

“Just like that, honey... fuck.”

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and damp against your skin as he follows you into the blissful embrace.

His hips stutter to a stop, warmth painting your walls and filling you to the brim, just like he always does.

He pants against you, his mind consumed with obsession, adoration, love. He finally has you back in his arms. Finally gets to rebuild his family, get the happy ending he’s been craving.

He’s not gonna give it up.

You’re right where you belong.

~*~

He waits an absurdly long time before telling anyone.

He doesn’t want anyone to know, especially not Nat. Bucky, sure, he can know, but not Nat. Not after the way she kept so many secrets for so long.

It isn’t until you start showing -about two months after the positive tests- that he finally tells the two of them the good news, inviting them over to help set up the baby's room and have a nice night with his family.

Bucky and Steve have just finished painting the walls yellow, a neutral baby colour that you suggested.

Steve insists that you sit slightly outside the room, even though both windows are open and a fan is going, the paint specifically bought because it’s non-toxic.

But you don’t argue. You’ll sit as far away from them as possible.

Sarah’s in your lap, her eyes focused on the colouring book on the ground in front of her, her tongue poking out between her lips as she tries to stay inside the lines.

“Alright. That’s the crib all done. Honey, you wanna grab us a drink?”

Your head snaps up at Steve’s request, and you nod, rising to your feet and instinctively dropping a hand to your small bump.

“Can I help?” Sarah asks excitedly, bouncing up onto her toes and following you down the stairs.

“Of course. You wanna bring this up to Uncle Bucky?”

You pour two glasses of lemonade, one for the blond and one for the brunet.

“Can I have some?” You nod, grabbing a cup for her as she starts carefully up the stairs with the glass.

“Need a hand?” You stiffen, eyes slowly raising to the redhead’s.

“No.”

She sighs, taking a seat at the counter.

“Just hear me out, (Y/n), please. I just... I just wanna explain. Please.” You grind your teeth together at her.

“What could you possibly have to say to me? How could you possibly explain the way you betrayed me? Betrayed Sarah? You got my dad killed, Natasha, and now I’m pregnant again.”

She looks so lost, so desperate, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s her fault you’re here.

"Just please, (Y/n). Please.” There’s nothing you can really do to stop her. It’s obvious that Bucky and Steve would side with her over you in a heartbeat.

“I never breathed a single word of your whereabouts to anyone, I swear. Not even my therapist. I swear on my life, (Y/n) I never told anyone where to find you.”

You look up at her and shake your head.

“You were the only other person who knew where we were hiding.”

She lets out a shaky breath and looks away from your eyes.

“After what happened at the cabin I started going to therapy. Saw a good therapist who helped me get through a lot of stuff. James was going to therapy too, we were getting better together.”

You don’t think any therapy in the world will change the fact that James Barnes is a monster through and through, but you don’t say that to her. No, you let her continue.

“I started getting better. James did too. We got back to work, to helping people,  being the good guys.”

She pauses, sniffling then scrubbing at her cheek.

“I told him that uh, one of my friends had a baby and that spending time around them made me want one too. It upset me because that... that’s a dream that I’ll never be able to have. Or, I thought it was.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but it lacks any positive emotions behind it.

“He told me about this experimental procedure that they started doing in Switzerland. Reversals for female sterilization. Highly experimental but... he said I should give it a shot. The worst that would happen would be... well... no worse than what I’ve had to live with for most of my life.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, not in defiance but in comfort. Self-comfort, and for a moment you feel bad for her.

“I talked it over with Bucky. Told him about how much I wanted a baby, a little mini version of him or I, and he was on board. Said he wished I told him sooner.” She chuckles, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

“That’s when I left for that while, remember?” You nod.

She missed Christmas and you were only slightly devastated at having to spend the holiday alone.

“I got the procedure done. Was on bed rest for a while after and even after I was given a clean bill of health I... I didn’t want to try. I was too nervous. Afraid that it wouldn't work but more afraid that it would.”

She takes a deep breath, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she recounts the events that occurred leading up to your abduction. Her betrayal.

“It uh... it took three months but we conceived. I was finally pregnant.” She smiles a tearful, wet smile at you and your own eyes prickle with tears as you realize that her story won’t have a happy ending.

Your mind immediately goes to the worst things you can think of, ranging from miscarriage to murder, and you find yourself wanting to call Sarah down away from her father.

“I was ecstatic, (Y/n). I was so fucking happy.” Her eyes are filled with a type of sorrow that you’re far too familiar with. One you’ve felt too much in your short life.

“I told my shrink about it, told him how happy I was. Bucky and I cried together when we found out cause... we were finally gonna be parents. That’s around the time when I started coming by more often. What, sic months ago? Yeah, right around then. I uh, I wanted to wait until I was showing more to tell you, but...” She trails off, her face falling even more and tears trailing down her cheeks.

“That’s around the same time when Bucky started seeing Steve more. Spent less and less time at home with me and more time with Steve. I uh, got a call one day from his therapist, asking if everything was okay because she hadn’t seen him in weeks. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. We hadn’t spoken to Steve since the cabin incident and then Bucky was spending every waking moment with him.”

She stops speaking, her fingers trembling and her bottom lip wobbling.

“What happened to the baby?” You ask softly, needing to know who hurt her, who caused it.

She exhales deeply and slowly opens her eyes.

“I uh, I guess Bucky must’ve told him. And uh... if Steve can’t have his happily ever after then no one can.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

“What did he do?”

She doesn’t answer right away. No, instead she picks at her fingers for a long moment.

“Did you know... that drinking certain teas can cause a miscarriage? Because I didn’t.” You furrow your brows, trying to figure out what she means until it dawns on you.

“He made you drink it?” You’re not sure which ‘he’ you’re talking about, but you know it must’ve been at least one, if not both of them.

“The last time I uh, set foot in this house before that dinner we had together... he invited us over for drinks and to watch the game. He made me some tea and asked me why I thought it was okay to keep secrets from him. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time but... that hardly matters. A few days later I started bleeding. A lot. I was in the infirmary for days on end only to find out that he’d poisoned my baby.”

She sniffles again and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“After that, he didn’t trust me, only trusted Bucky. Went to my therapist and took his notes, beat answers out of him when he refused to speak. I’m assuming they bugged me o-or something. Or followed my licence plate, searched through my history to figure it out."

Her candy apple green eyes meet yours, vibrant and staring directly into your soul with passion and fire rivalling that of a forest fire.

“I never breathed a single word of you or Sarah to anyone. Steve figured it out on his own, after almost killing my therapist, and killing my baby. I never said anything, I swear. On the life of my child, I didn’t say a thing.”

Your breaths come in shallow bursts, anxiety spiking as you shake your head.

“I-I don’t...” She puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and nods, guiding you towards the couch.

“I’m sorry. But that’s... that’s the truth. Steve is a monster, and he’s got Bucky following him mindlessly. I don’t... I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.”

You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of feet trudging down the stairs cuts you off.

“Everything alright down here?” Steve asks, reaching for his glass of lemonade but pausing when he sees the look of distress on your face.

His eyes flutter between you and Nat before he takes a seat beside you, grabbing your hand gently in his.

“Honey? You okay?”

You shake your head, trying to rid it of the overwhelming thoughts.

“Mommy?” The three of you look up as Sarah bounds down the stairs, climbing into your lap.

“Where’s my juice?” You pick her up and rest her on your hip as you stand up, walking into the kitchen to grab her cup of juice and distance yourself from the people on the couch.

Bucky comes down the stairs next, confused and wondering where everyone went.

His eyes find Natasha’s first, the poorly masked sorrow colouring her features, and his heart aches.

Sarah drinks her lemonade quickly, making a loud ‘ahh’ sound once she’s devoured the last drop.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” She asks eagerly, looking up at you with big blue eyes.

You swallow hard then nod, your eyes slowly raising to Steve’s as he walks over to you.

“Pizza?” You ask softly, turning back to your daughter when he nods.

“Of course.” She squeals excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck and hugging you tightly.

You hug her closer to your body, burying your face in her hair as a tear slips down your cheek.

You knew he was a bad man, but you never thought he’d hurt a child. That would’ve been his niece or nephew, a friend for Sarah and your new baby. But no, he decided that Natasha didn’t deserve her happy ending, neither did Bucky.

Natasha is one of the few friends you’ve ever had, and the fact that he’d hurt her that way, kill off her one dream, is disgusting.

It makes you wonder what he’ll do to you, or even Sarah.

You thought hurting kids was something Steve would never do, but now you’re not so sure.

[hamliet]

Dabi’s Missing Heart

So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.  

Take #1: 

Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed! 

Take #2: 

Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character! 

Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive): 

I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.

Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both. 

Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison. 

So, who is Dabi? 

Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder. 

Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for. 

If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.

You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything. 

We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions. 

Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care. 

So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this. 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is. 

Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).

Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with. 

The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions). 

Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter? 

It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another. 

See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:

But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this: 

Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi. 

You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain. 

So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life: 

Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology.  Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain. 

Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him): 

Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.

Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals. 

For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him. 

In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals). 

That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids. 

Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama. 

Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result. 

So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.  

In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)

Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)

Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That. 

Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi. 

Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties. 

Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.) 

So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed). 

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner. 

Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now. 

(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)

But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power. 

Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).

I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it.