#like heck the people who used to be able to see me and would come running have all left these areas

[crimsonblackrose]

The first time I moved here it was terrifying. But also exciting. Trains and buses reminded me of roller coasters, and all the lights and people were just so fun that I didn’t miss the stars. But now crossing the bridges over the river remind me of being on rope bridges, the way they bend when a car drives past and sends the ground beneath my feet wobbling. 

And there’s something odd about all the little scraps of language I mumble to myself without meaning to, a good evening to the elevator in Italian, a gasp of it’s so cold in Korean to the winter wind that rips the hood off from atop my head, the bowing I can’t seem to stop doing and then finding that my friend does the same. English to the cafe lady then Japanese muttered to herself as she looks over the menu, or the whirl I get when she hears “what is it?” in Korean that I ask her without meaning to that devolves into a language lesson like we’ve both lost track of where we are in the here and now and feel like we’re once again meeting up in Tokyo, I still remember the directions to her place, how to get there through the sleepy suburb at the edge of the city and the winding path and where to stop to greet the cats or the elderly neighbors. But I don’t know where she lives in this city anymore. 

I don’t know if this is just it, I mean I overheard my aunt who hasn’t lived in Japan for 20+ years answer a zoom call in Japanese on accident. But I feel wobbly, like where I am isn’t steady. That I keep looking at things like ah yes, this street reminds me of Sapporo and it’s not, or all this street art makes me feel like I’m in Penang. I should know all of this, I lived here for so long, but without roots, without normalcy (whatever that is), I’m searching through it for other things I can compare it to and it’s just an odd displacement.

[funlovinzara]

“Speechless” Turbo!ken and Okarun x reader

I didn’t know id cause so much trouble, but in the end i met someone who touched my heart…i don’t know if I’ll ever be able to love him.

Warnings: none really

A/n: im back divas 💜 IM SICK AGAIN

______

Okay, lets not start off with “im just a normal person, who attends a totally normal school.” Because its stupid and dumb and i really really just want to explain this whole situation. This school is weird. Ive been experiencing some supernatural things happening to me and i dont feel safe wherever i go and i think something bad might hurt me. I walk home after school one day and i notice the air getting thicker and thicker and i just feel the tense pressure of something following me

I rush home and all i can do is ponder about whats going on with me, am i mental?? Is this some of condition?? Im having nightmares and i cant take it anymore. I cant even talk to anyone about this because i hardly talk to people at this stubborn school…

Besides all the crazy things happening to me, theres this guy I’ve had my eye on, not romantically or anything i just keep seeing him wherever i go and he just sticks out like a sore thumb. I think his name was Ken….im going to talk to him, he seems like the only person who wouldn’t judge me.

I walk up to him and before i could even mutter a ��hey” a girl comes first and speaks to him, it seems like they’re close. Suddenly everyone must have a friend besides me, thats so annoying. I’ll speak to him at lunch then. And as i expected, that girl was there again. So i guess i’ll just speak to him afterschool.

“Hey..” i tap his shoulder while walking out the gate of the school. He swiftly turns around looking at me in surprise and quickly blushing. “O..oh hello!”

“I wanted to know if you’d like to be friends…you look really cool and i thought it would be nice.” His face flushes even more “Cool..? Me? Oh- yeah s-sure we can be friends thats totally awesome! Yup! Cool!” He was geeking out, and it was really cute

“Can w-“ before i could speak again he cuts me off. “How about we talk together at lunch tomorrow or if we have the same class..? Its s-super nice to meet you. Im Ken takakura!”

“Oh im y/n l/n, sure we can talk tomorrow” he bows and runs off home, i mean at least i’ll be able to actually talk to him. I start to walk home and the sun starts to set, i really don’t want that feeling to come back again. But it’s not my choice is it..

While i walk home i start to feel it again, the feeling that im being watched. But no it’s way worse this time. My ears start to ring, and i hear footsteps slowly pick up behind me. I start to run home, it wasn’t far anyway, i could make it! I run into a neighborhood I’ve never seen before, but I’ll do anything just to get away.

A blue light appears above my head and i turn around to see 3 large men with a horrifying smile standing behind me. I turn again to sprint for it until they catch me in a millisecond. “What a fine specimen!!! We shall take your banana for inspection.”

“What the heck does that even mean??? Let me go!!” I hear another pair of footsteps and i see..Ken? And that other girl..

“Get em okarun!!” The girl exclaims, and before my own eyes i see okarun leap forward to one of the men holding me, transforming into something so unknown. The aliens are caught off guard and unhand me while i see that other running behind us, a big set of translucent blue arms emerge from her back and grabs on hold on one of the men and slams him.

“Okarun!! Take the girl somewhere else!! I’ll be safe i promise!” This new…person that is ‘okarun’ sighs in laziness “such a drag..” he picks me up bridal style and starts to speed away into a secluded area where the strange men were sure not to search. He lays me down on the concrete floor and i think i recognize this area, this is a part of my neighborhood thankfully!!

I look up at him in disbelief, “your…ken..?” He was prepping to sprint back to where the other girl was but he looks at me instead “in the flesh.” What was up with his lingo..

“..how are you able to do that?” It’s absolutely incredible, i was totally mesmerized, he’s beautiful! “Dunno, i gotta go. Stay safe babe.” He pats my head and then gets into a crouching start position to run, he sprints off and into the night he goes. What just happened, and he called me babe? How am i going to even talk to him tomorrow??

It takes me a minute to get back up and into shape, i make my way back home and i was later than usual. I make myself comfy, shower and change, and hop right into bed. I shut my eyes and start to recap.

‘Alright, what the hell was going on today. Ken is some secret transforming boy, and i guess his nickname is okarun? This other girl has magical powers and i almost got kidnapped by some disgustingly terrifying ‘men’. Based on what I’ve seen today, were those even men?? Im speechless..’ I continue to yap on in my head until i drift off into slumber.

—

I wake up the next morning trying to figure out if i should just stay home today, but then again i need answers. I quickly hop out of bed and get myself ready while having something small to eat for breakfast. I make my way to campus and i see Ken and that girl again, i really need to get her name..

“Hey Takakura.” While he was speaking to that girl he turns around to look at me, she gives me a glance and her face brightens, it seems like she recognizes me. “Hey y/n, is everything alright?”

“Um yeah no, what even happened last night?? That was totally insane! Do you guys know what was going on it freaked me out, and you turned into some creature and that girl had big arms coming out of her back-“

The girl giggles and cuts me off “okay i know it’s crazy, and I’m momo! What you saw yesterday wasn’t normal i know, it’s a long story. But those men you saw were aliens, thats why they looked so weird. Okarun here has this new ability to transform into something completely new, i have psychic powers.”

My face must have been absolutely confuzzled because they both started to giggle “Don’t worry, we’ll talk more about it at lunch! By the way whats your name?”

“It’s y/n l/n, nice to meet you.” She smiles and rests her arm on my shoulder “Sweet! Cmon okarun, let’s head to class!”

He follows right behind us and my smile fades a bit, that person okarun was…i can feel my heart start to strain. This isn’t good, i think i might like him but every-time i see Okarun and Momo together, they just seem like an unbreakable bond that stays together forever and i might be tinkering and getting in the way of that. I want to go home already.

“Hey y/n, matter of fact how about you come to my place after school? Then we can totally go over everything you’re confused about.”

“Oh, yeah sure! I don’t mind.” They day goes on as it fades into the mist of night. Her house is more larger than i thought, i enter and it has this calming feel to it. I spot Ken taking off his shoes and my hear starts to race a bit, this is making me insane. “Alright Okarun, show em!” I watch him transform again and i see that boy…wow he is so alluring. His droopy sleep eyes and tall slim frame would have anyone at campus falling head over heels

“So this is what you saw yesterday, this form is when he blah blah blah blah…”

I really should have payed attention but i was lost in his thoughtless eyes, and he was staring right back at me. I wonder does this form have the same mind as Okarun or is it someone else? While momo continues to talk, without her noticing he nods his head up at me in a “sup” motion, with his hands in his pockets. He was trying so hard to be cool and he really was. I feel my brain melt to my toes as i nod my head back at him.

“So do you understand?”

I snap back into reality, “Yeah..so what can he really do?”

“Well he can only run really fast, he has no good fighting skills yet.” “Wow, harsh.” He said while leaning back on the wall. Momo takes out her phone and looks at the time, she jumps and shrieks “its really late! Hey how about this, you can come over again tomorrow and we can go over how you’re able to see things like this. Okarun since it’s dark outside and you’re a fast runner, take em home!”

“whatevs, I’m the fastest yo.”

We head out the door and he lets me get on his back. “later y/n!”

Ken gets into the crouching start position again and speeds to my neighborhood “quick, where do ya live” I whisper my home into his ear and he quickens the pace all the way until the destination. He slows and gets down, allowing me to step off his back. I was hesitant to walk into my home and i turn around right before he was going to speed back to momos place.

“Cya on the flip side babe.” Seriously does he call everyone babe…but then i realized he was leaving and as he took off i managed to shout “See you tomorrow!!” I see him wave his hand in the air while he ran, this wasn’t so bad. I lay back in my bed ready to disclose for the night, this is crazy.

Will he be someone i can love or am i just going to be a nuisance..?

—

GUYS I JUST finished watching dandadan please i had to write something y’all idk it set something off in me for real!! bye DIVAS 💜

[eleteo125]

"Be Mine or You Will Burn"

Rollo x GN!Reader

AN: Me and my friend are Rollo fans and they've inspired me to write this idea out 🤣

You were simply just walking around admiring the scenery of Noble Bell where you went back to the cathedral to appreciate the artistry of the stain glass. Each panel depicting how Judge Claude Frollo and his accomplishments.

Rollo, the school’s student council president has welcomed the NRC students by giving them a tour but his obvious disdain for magic users made it clear that he was rushing to get the tour done as fast as possible to get away from them. Heck you would even bet that the only reason he was able to get through the whole tour was because he only set his attention towards you barely minding the other guests. He sometimes casts a watchful eye on them but other than that he doesn’t particularly engage with them compared to you.

With those signs in display, everyone from NRC has come to the conclusion that them being invited here has an ulterior motive to it. Briefly shaking those thoughts from your mind, you admired the lights coming through the different colored windows surrounding you in a colorful halo.

My what a beautiful sight indeed.

Magic wielder or not, you’re still a student from NRC so of course Rollo has kept a close eye on you when freely strolling around the school. But he can’t help the fact that you’re devoid of any magic at all has him deeply fascinated. And to think to mingle around those…ahem.

Do not be fooled he’s only keeping watch of you because he can tell that everyone from NRC are quite attached to you especially that dragon fae. What better way to keep them in check when he has you close and in his clutches.

Walking towards you he silently stood in behind you. He held in a small chuckle as he saw you’re awestruck face looking at the beautiful work of art. “Impressed?”

Jumping a little bit in surprise, you quickly looked behind to see him “O-oh! Yes, I haven’t seen a stained glass window in person before, just through pictures.” You confessed

“Hmph of course such beauty is painstakingly crafted by hand of course you won’t see a lot of it. Craftsmanship that took people’s skill and talent with no assistance from cheap tricks everyone reveres.” He spits

“Magic?”

Rollo stayed silent at your question.

You decide to let go of the subject with his sudden silence. Instead you walked closer to the window to admire the small details. It was such detailed you can’t even imagine how long it would take to finish such a large piece.

Too lost in thought, you started to reach your hand out to the window but you’re once again surprised when you felt a strong grip around your wrist.

You were about to apologize but instead freeze up when you felt him step closer behind you. You tried to step forward to get some distance since you’re starting to get flustered at our position but realized that you don’t have much space to move in since you’re very close to the window.

“I’m sorry but those were just cleaned by the careful hands of our cleaners hands off please.” He whispered in your ear.

You shuddered at his closeness and the sensation of him speaking carefully so close to your ear. “I-I understand.” You stuttered while unconsciously leaning into his ‘embrace’.

He seems to have lost himself also since he buried his nose in your hair while his other hand rubbed your free arm.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long just basking in each other’s contact. “Why not transfer here, I can tell how ‘generous’ the headmaster is in your current school.”

“I can’t” you managed to mumble out after almost melting at the close soud of his voice yet again.

“You’re surrounding yourself with magic that is as deadly as fire.”

You leaned closer “Fire can be useful too.” You whispered

You felt his sigh in your ear and your knees almost gave up but he held you up when he sensed you were about to fall.

“Consider it.” He kissed behind your ear “Be mine or you will burn.

He carefully let you go after making sure you won’t collapse to your knees before walking put and leaving you under colorful light.

[alphajocklover]

No longer a Spider, finally a Man

**Hey! First time doing a fanfic muscle growth. Or at least posting it. I hope you guys like it! Please tell me how I can do better, and send in story suggestions if you want!**

Peter Parker loved being Spider-Man. He loved saving people, he loved using his powers to make a difference, he loved swinging through the sky line. But he also hated it. He hated the pressure, the responsibility, the fact that he nd his loved ones were in constant danger, the fact that he was always lying to everyone. He hated that he could never be normal. But then again Peter had never been very normal. Even before becoming Spider-man he had been a nerd. Smart, socially awkward, and tormented by the popular kids. That didn’t exactly change after becoming Spider-Man either, though his social issues had definitely gone to the back burner with him constantly fighting crime. If he was being honest his social life had only gotten worse since becoming a superhero. He had gained some muscle and no longer needed glasses, yes, but he couldn’t exactly show that. He hadn’t had time for his friends, his normally fantastic grades were slipping, and Flashes bullying had only gotten worse.

As Peter, out of costume, walked to Midtown, he wondered what it would be like to be a normal teenager. Not just what it would be like to not be Spider-Man, but to not be a nerd. He wondered what it would be like to be a regular teenage boy. Maybe if he wasn’t Spider-Man he could have even been… cool or something. Probably not, but it was still a nice fantasy. Just as he was imagining this, his spider-sense went off. He looked around, prepared to jump out of the way of any danger, but, even with his super reflexes, he couldn’t get out of the way before the strange something hit him right in the middle of his chest. Peter stumbled back, not realizing that the reality stone, one of the infinity stones, had lodged itself inside of his heart. Normally such a thing would kill someone, or at least hurt them, but due to the magic nature of the stone it phased through his chest and inside of him without harming him. Peter blinked. What… just happened? He had sworn something had just flown into his chest but… wouldn’t that have killed him or something? Before he could investigate further, an alarm on his phone began to ring. Crap, he was late for class! Peter ran into the school as the power of the reality stone seeped into his blood. He turned a corner, just a hallway away from his classroom, when he almost ran straight into a wall of muscle, his super-reflexes being the only thing that saved him. As he skirted to a halt, he came face to face with his biggest tormentor (supervillains and news editors notwithstanding) : Flash Thompson. The most popular jock in school and Peter Parker's personal bully. The blond quarterback sneered cockily at Peter before he spoke

“Hey there Puny Parker. Running late again? I thought geeks like you were supposed to be punctual and shit?” Flash said with a cocky mocking laugh.

“What do you want, Flash?” Peter asked with a scowl, trying to keep his patience.

“Just checking up on my favorite nerd.” Flash mocked, grabbing Peter’s arm. Before Peter could react, Flash had shoved him up against the locker, peters arm pinned behind his back. What the heck? He had super powers, enhanced reflexes, he should have been able to see that coming. Peter didn’t realize that his subconscious desire to be normal was repressing his powers. Unable to fight back, Peter was shoved into a nearby open locker and locked inside. Peter sighed. Stuck in a locker again. Peter didn’t notice as the orange light in his chest began to glow. He closed his eyes and deeply wished… to stop being a loser. To be normal. To be… anything else than who he was. The orange light grew brighter and brighter… until it completely consumed Peter. Suddenly he heard something

“Parker… Parker!”

With a start Peter Parker woke up, looking around in shock. He was… in a classroom? He was sitting at a desk at the back of a class he didn’t recognize, one that he seemed to have been sleeping through. Had all of that been a crazy dream? He looked over to see the remedial math teacher, Ms Jones. What was he doing in remedial math? Before he could say anything, Ms Jones spoke once more

“Mr Parker, please try to stay awake during class. Your grade is already low enough.” She said, sending a chuckle throughout the room. Peter spoke without thinking, his voice deeper and fuller than he remembered.

“Sorry teach. I’m still tired from our ‘study session’ last night. Thanks for the extra tutoring by the way~” he said. Did he just… flirt with a teacher? He did! And weirdly enough the slight embarrassed blush on Ms Jones face suggested that it was working. Ms. Jones spoke again, more timid this time

“While.. just don’t be late tonight.” She said with a slight wink, before walking over to the front of the classroom again. This caused the class, which now that Peter was looking consisted mostly of the football team, too laugh loudly, one punching Peter on the shoulder in a playful manner. Peter felt a smirk he couldn’t control come over his face, and his eyes involuntaries followed Ms Jones' ass as she walked back to the front of the class. In a daze, Peter tried to figure out what was happening. Wasn’t he just in a locker? What was he doing in remedial math? And why was he acting so weird? Before he could wonder any further, the bell rang and class was dismissed. Peter ran out without talking to anyone, and headed to a nearby bathroom. He looked in the mirror and froze. It was Peter but… completely different. He was bigger, taller, with wider shoulders. He had full, bouncy pecs that were barely contained by his tank top, shredded abs that he could grate cheese on, and truly impressive biceps. Peter had gone from a geek who gets stuffed into lockers to a huge muscular jock! Peter wanted to be shocked, to be horrified, but… he felt another smirk cross his face. He began to flex his muscles cockily. He smirked and felt his thoughts turn. He looked fucking amazing! I mean, of course he did. He was big Pete Parker, the big man, the quarterback, the stud! Slowly Peter began to forget about his old self, too absorbed in the strong, dull thoughts going through his head. He wondered what he and his best bro Flash would do after football practice? Maybe beat up some geeks, or find a hottie to hook up with? Peter had a lot of girls to choose from already, including MJ, Liz, Gwen, Charlie and of course Ms Jones, but… he wouldn’t mind another. Pete smirked and strut out of the bathroom, not noticing a light orange glow between his pecs. Life was fucking sweet.

[imbored1201]

Hi your stories are so good..can i make a request of barca reader getting into fight but hiding from her teammates the injury?? Thanks

Don’t Touch The Sunglasses

Barcelona Femeni x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

 

You hated to admit it, but growing up, you had always gotten into fights, whether it was against the boys on your team for making fun of you. Thankfully,  you were the coach's favorite, so he turned blind eye to it, and the boys had to much pride to admit to their parents they got hit by a girl. 

Or if it was even your own 'friends' who pushed you relentlessly and tried crushing your dreams to become a football player. 

Alexia noticed this when she saw you always talking back to the people in the stands who yelled insults to get into the players heads. It never got into your head, but you just wanted an excuse to argue with someone. 

But she still told you off for it since it was also getting you a mixture of hate and love. People thought you should be the mature one and ignore it; others were happy you were standing up for yourself.

————

You went out to the market to get some candy, despite Alexia telling you no because you had to stick to the diet. She even called you to threaten that you would have to walk to Patri's if you didn't get home in 10 minutes, and the walk to Patri's from your guys place was about 15 minutes. Nothing compared to the running you do, but outside of practice, you were the laziest person. 

You huffed seeing Alexia's car wasn't there when you finally got home. You even tried calling her, but she declined. You were a little mad; you didn't even buy your candy because you were in a rush to get back. 

You were in between waiting for it to get dark so Alexia would pick you up since she hated when you walked in the dark or just walking it to finally get away from Alexia's overbearing nature. 

You chose the second one. 

————

You were stopped by fans five minutes into the walk. You expected it considering you were walking by a school football field, and it was the weekend, so little kids loved going to play since it was the only time the big kids weren't there. 

You even talked to them and were even going to join them for a mini game until a lady came up to you and pushed the little kids away to grab you. "Sign this for my kid," she said rudely, shoving a jersey of yours into your arms.

You tore your arm away from her grip, glaring at her. "Could you not touch me and apologize to the kids. There was no need to push them like that." You scolded her with the tone Alexia always used to scold you. 

She got angry. Angrier when you gave her back the jersey and paid attention to the kids again. "Don't fucking talk to me like that," she got in your face. You could smell the alcohol. "You're drunk and embarrassing yourself in front of all these people," you told her, walking away from her. 

You knew you had to get yourself out of this situation, so you apologized to the kids but promised to come by next Saturday at the same time to play with them before walking away. 

You weren't even able to walk five steps before you got sucker punched from the back. Her punch getting you right in the eye. 

'Alexia is going to kill me' was the only thought you had in that moment. Thankfully, you were able to gain your composure again to push the woman away from you, but it didn't phase her as she tackled you to the ground. 

You sighed in relief when one of the kids parents quickly pulled her off of you and held her to the ground while one of the kids called the police. 

"Fuck," you mumbled, grabbing your camera to look at your eye. That lady was crazy, but she had a heck of a punch. You groaned when you saw it was already bruising up. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to press charges on the drunk to get the last laugh. 

You made your report, and you were let go after an hour of a bunch of paperwork. You huffed in annoyance as you started jogging to Patri's house now. You had three missed calls from Alexia and a bunch of texts from Ingrid and Fridolina. You quickly texted them back, saying you were fine.

You also had to make another stop at a store to get a random pair of sunglasses. It was probably making the whole situation more obvious, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

————

You let out deep breaths as you stopped in front of Patri's house. You were sure you had another bruise on your stomach from that tackle. You quickly knocked on the door, and it was opened by Fridolina, who pulled you into a tight hug. You let out a sigh of relief, thanking it wasn't Alexia or Irene. 

"Where were you?" She questioned, giving you a water bottle, noticing how out of breath you were. "I got caught up," you mumbled, hugging everyone you passed. 

No one questioned the glasses, but they did stare weirdly. You noticed Alexia staring you down, but you were intercepted by Salma and Ona before she could actually come up to you and question you. 

You were shoved outside by the group of lunatics. Cata was making a bond fire while Pina and Patri were shoving marshmallows in their mouths.

"Alexia was really mad," Salma commented. "I'm surprised she hasn't tore your ear off," Ona added, patting Patri's back when she started choking on the marshmallows. 

Once Patri's little choking session was done, it was her turn to bug you. She always said it was her role as a big sister. 

"Could you not" you pushed Patri away from you as she tried grabbing the glasses. "You look stupid; is this one of your things to impress a girl again?" You huffed at that and pushed her away again. 

Then Pina came from behind and jumped on your back to get them off. "Leave my glasses alone," you whined, getting Pina off. 

You quickly ran back inside and locked the door, so the girls were stuck outside. Patri started pounding on the door. 

You shook your head at Marta, who tried moving you to open it. "They started it." "Be the mature one for once," she told you, opening it when you gave up. 

Right when she opened it, Patri and Pina pounced on you, tackling you to the ground. "Marta!" You yelled, reaching out for her. 

"Hey!" You yelled as your glasses got snatched off your face. Patri and Pina jumped up, seeing the black eye. "Alexia!" Pina yelled, grabbing your face. 

Marta finally noticed what they were freaking out about and pulled them off. If that lady didn't give you a bruise on your stomach, Patri and Pina definitely did. "Come here," she said sternly. You quickly listened and followed her to the couch, trying to come up with some excuse about this black eye. 

————

After what felt like 100 'what happened to your eye' later and everyone grabbing your face to observe your eye, Alexia finally got to talking. 

"Are you going to tell me the truth?" She asked first, and you thought for a little bit and nodded. "Of course, I'll tell you the truth. I was running, and some kids started running beside me to get a picture, and I got distracted and ran into a pole," you explained. 

Alexia's face stayed stern; you hated that she could easily tell when someone was lying, especially when that someone was you. "No, soy estùpida, tell me the truth."

"Some drunk who wanted this pretty face" you tried to lighten up the mood, but that just earned you a smack to the back of the head. 

"Can you not hit her, She's obviously been hit enough." Ingrid scolded Mapi, who was the one who delivered that blow. "I only got hit once and tackled," you shrugged, punching Mapi's shoulder.

You looked at Alexia. "It actually wasn't my fault; she was being rude and even pushed some kids away that wanted a picture with me. I could tell she was drunk, so I tried getting away, but she punched me from behind and tackled me."

Irene gave you an ice pack. "And you tried hiding it?" She questioned, "It's embarrassing; I never lose a fight," everyone in the room groaned.

"Really, all because your ego was hurt." Ingrid couldn't believe her ears, but she did feel for you.  

"Technically, you won, kid; it was a sucker punch." Your eyes brightened at Mapi's words. "Hell yeah," you said, standing up to high five Patri, Salma, and Pina. 

Alexia grabbed you by the shoulder and gave you a look that made you sit down again. "Is she in jail?" You nodded. "I pressed charges; they said they would call me.

Alexia sighed in relief. "I still can't believe she punched you." You could tell she was still angry, but not at you anymore. 

"Now that this is addressed, can I please have ice cream?" Usually, when you got hurt or were sad, Alexia let you eat whatever you wanted, even though she was strict about keeping a healthy diet. 

"Fine, but only ice cream." "Yes captain."

————

Now you were happy that lady punched you; you had an amazing story to tell fans when they asked you what happened; the team was babying you more than usual and getting you whatever you wanted; and that lady was going to prison.

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How To Plant Snapdragons | Extra

Task Force 141, Keegan & Konig x Female Criminal!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / Discord

You have never found the crowd pleasing, no matter how much you've forced yourself to get used to it. Your father was the type of a person who knew how to stir and handle people like they were dolls, he wanted you to be the same. But you preferred to pull the strings in the shadows, despite how much he complimented you for becoming as good as him.

Eating in front of a bunch of soldiers whom you had no use of, was also not within your likings. Their judgemental gazes, their yapping mouths, and their sharp ears to rumors and gossip was not helping you out as well. You couldn't also control them into making them think you were harmless and trustworthy when you already kicked their brother’s balls.

But you couldn't bother Task Force 141  to always be with you, you weren't their only concern in the base, and you did not want to be babysat by a bunch of grown men. What would be the point of a goddamn ankle monitor if you were always within their sight?

You swallowed the last bit of your meal and picked up your tray, getting up from the seat. You kept your head high as you carefully placed the tray over the tower of dirty ones and slipped out of the dining hall.

Where was Price’s office again?

You stood before a hallway, parting to left and right with narrowed eyes. Pointing a finger to your right and then to your left, you sighed and proceeded to the left with a nod.

You hoped he would be in his office and you could have a small talk with him, at least. Or even better, you could continue your talk with him, which got interrupted by Laswell calling.

You had got so much to tell him—so much to offer him more than what you could say to Shepherd. Maybe, it was because you knew him better than you knew the General, or maybe, you were hoping he was a man of his words and your last resort.

You stopped on your tracks as several soldiers blocked your path and as you took a step back, one of them quickly grabbed you. He slammed you against the wall and the rest of them rounded, hiding you from plain sight.

“Uh,” you scanned the soldiers, “hello?”

Ey, come on, you had said you liked it when men choke you with their arms and thighs, manhandling you like a rag doll (preferably on bed, but honestly, you'd take them on the couch, table, stairs, against the wall, the floor the door, no lube, no protection) BUT NOT THESE GUYS!

THEY WEREN'T EVEN HALF AS GOOD LOOKING AS THE 141 NOR KEEGAN!

YOU BET THEIR DICKS WEREN'T EVEN GOOD!

HECK, YOU BET YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE ABLE TO CUM ON THEIR FINGERS UNLIKE HOW KEEGAN COULD MAKE YOU!

FUCK, YOU BET YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE WET WITH THEM UNLIKE HOW JUST SEEING KEEGAN'S ASS WOULD MAKE YOU FOLD AND BEAT YOUR DINGLE DOODLE MAGICAL WAND CUM SHOOTER OUT IF YOU HAD ONE!

DAMN IT! If you punch or beat up one of them, the results wouldn't even be in your favor. It would just lead up to more people—the Task Force specifically—to not put their trust on you.

You sighed, letting all your thoughts simmer down as they began to threaten you, and glanced up the ceiling, reminding yourself to stay frosty.

Would the Task Force agree if you asked them to spar with you? Although, that would mean they'd see your skills. Scratch that.

Oh, you didn't need to actually fight them. You could just let them throw you around.

Yeaaaaah, good shi—

You grunted as a hand wrapped around your throat and you found your fist landing on the man’s face. “Fucking bitch, don't touch me, you small dicked pussy eater, cock sucking whore—” And only then, when their gazes locked onto you that said ‘oh no, we're fucking offended! We’re men who hadn't heard such dirty words coming from a woman cuz we are the ones only allowed to degrade other people!’ that you realized what you had done.

“Oh, uh, sorry—” you coughed as a soldier’s knuckles landed on your stomach, and you bent over, breathing out heavily from the sudden pain, and another one hit, again and again.

You were used to such treatment. You had gone through worse, and such experience was what could make your actions more realistic.

You dropped on your knees, holding your arms over your stomach as you tried to make it seem like you were having a hard time breathing, and frowned, to make it seemed you were in so much pain.

But even with such acting, and the chances of being able to get away from them, and get to Price, you wished someone would help you out.

Perhaps, the Ghosts had spoiled you too much. Perhaps, the Walkers had treated you like a princess to save when in distress. Because even when you could do it, their excuses would be they wanted to do it for you.

God, you missed them—missed the safety you felt with them. The warmth, the feeling of home, and the feeling of being valued as a human. And you'd kill burn everything to feel that again.

You swallowed as they grabbed your hair, pulling harshly. But in a blink, the fingers on your tresses vanished and your eyes landed on the soldier on the ground, then up to the man with a cigar balancing between his fingers, gaze hidden by a hat.

He blew smoke and you grimaced, covering your nose with your hand. “What the fuck are you bloody muppets doing?”

One after another, the soldiers answered his questions, putting all the blame on you. They weren't wrong, though, you had kicked someone's balls and punched a guy. But come on, you kicked someone's balls during training, and you punched someone because they strangled you and that would be called self-defense.

You weren't the one in the wrong here as well.

“You call yourself soldiers when you act like this?” John questioned, his voice dropping low. He let go of his cigar, letting it drop to the floor and stepped on it. When the soldiers tried to retort, he yelled, “I will hear no excuses!”

They flinched, all standing up straight and brought their eyes to the ground, while a hand grabbed your arm, pulling you up.

“You broken?” Price questioned, letting you hold onto his arm as you steadied yourself.

You shook your head. “I'm good, sir.” You stepped away from him.

He made no comment and once again faced the soldier, pointing at them. “I will deal with the lots of you later.” Then, he tapped your shoulder, nodding at you to follow him.

You walked behind him and glanced over your shoulder, shooting your middle fingers at the soldiers, but something blocked your sight.

“Enough of that, you damn muppet.”

“Hey, I'm just expressing my anger!” You exclaimed, yet let him drag you with his hand still over your eyes.

“Can you, in this position you're in now?” He questioned, guiding you to a corner and removed his hand from your face.

You looked up at him. “Literally or . . . ?” You watched him glance at you, and you huffed. “If I weren't trying to prove myself to you, I would have killed them.”

“The way you phrased that isn't exactly making me approve of you.”

You clicked your tongue, and for some moments of silence, he stopped before a door. He pushed it open, he gestured at you to get in first, which you raised a brow and smiled at. “Aren't you a gentleman, Jonathan Price?”

“Don't mistake it as approval,” he scoffed and locked the door behind him.

The space was neat and orderly—not exactly what you expect from such a man, with just enough personal touches to make it feel lived-in—maps pinned to the walls, a coffee mug perched precariously on the edge of the desk. Price motioned for you to sit on the couch.

You flopped down on the couch, then laid down, grunting at the pain you felt on your abdomen. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. I appreciate it.”

“I'm saving the soldiers from you,” he remarked and walked around his desk, opening a drawer, but frowned and closed it. Then, he rummaged through a cabinet.

You chuckled and heaved a small sigh. “You know about me even before we meet, don't you?”

“You are not exactly discreet, princess.” He fished out some sort of container that fit in his hand and a bandage and walked over to you.

You blinked rapidly at the nickname, not expecting it to come from his mouth, and shifted as you gazed at what seemed to be an ointment and bandage on his grasp. “I can handle myself, Price, I'm not—”

“You're in no position to argue,” he said, as though barking an order, and dropped to one knee before you. “Lift your shirt.”

You swallowed at his sharp gaze and frowned, jaws tightening as you hesitantly dropped your hands to your belt. You sighed and started unbuckling, a bit shaky yet quick. Your heart hammered against your ribs as he watched you lift your shirt from being tucked in.

Scars welcomed his sight along with the darkened patches on your skin from getting beat, and he took in a sharp breath. “Who did this?”

“Jesus, that's straight out of fiction,” you mumbled under your breath.

He looked up at you. “What?”

“Ah, I mean, well, Shepherd.” You averted your gaze as your face began to warm up out of shame.

“I thought it was from your father,” Price said in a low voice and reached to your hand, guiding it up even more, before he shook off his gloves. He turned the jar of ointment open.

“The Tsar wouldn't hurt me like this.” You ran your tongue over your lips as his calloused fingers began to run over your skin, warm over the cold. You rested your head against the couch and relished on the feeling.

“Why did you betray him, then?”

You closed your eyes. “He thought everything he did was right, and it took me a while to remove the blindfold he had made me wear and listen only to him.” You paused for a moment, and opened your eyes, before asking, “Would you rather have me as your enemy, Price?” You looked down on him, finding him unrolling the bandage.

“Why would I accept an enemy in my Task Force?” he questioned, snaking a hand around your waist, and repeated the action.

“Good question,” you remarked, and straightened up, making him glance up at you. “Why would you want an enemy in your Task Force?”

“Why would you join hands with an enemy?”

You leaned down on him, tilting your head slightly. “Why do you want me, Jonathan Price?”

He lifted his chin and the edge of his hat almost hit your nose as he did, and found your eyes staring at his. He made no movement—no, he froze—something only a few could do to him, caught between the questions in his head and the ticking of the clock that kept the silence from reigning.

His eyes flicked between your eyes, as though trying to find answers or hints for the question you asked, some things he wasn't sure he wanted to find. Then, he lowered his head, bringing his focus back on wrapping you in bandages. “You have all the Intel that I want, your skills are a delight to the eyes. If there's someone who can and will help me, it will be you.”

You hummed, pondering over his words, and tapped his hat. “I’ve seen you with Captain McMillan, when you still have that cute little bonnet of yours.”

His movements came to a half and he looked up to you. “When?”

“I’ve seen you around, well, through the screen, but I first saw you in person at your failed assassination of Imran Zakhaev.” You swore at the back of your head you sounded like a stalker.

“Failed?” He echoed, annoyance and shock clear in his voice. “He's dead—”

“He died, that's true. But not from your hands, Price.” You shook your head.

Once again, he grew quiet, your words spiraling in his lthoughts, before he snapped out of it, and questioned, “Why were you there? I don't think you're already in the military at that time.”

“I was a visitor.” You scooted closer to him, making it easier for him to wrap you in bandages. “My father wanted me to meet Zakhaev and his middle son, Victor, to join hands with him, and thank fuck, you appeared!” You clapped your hands, making him look at you in confusion. 

You grabbed his shoulders. “You don't know how grateful I am to you for beating the shit out of Zakhaev, you goddamn blessing from heaven.” You shook him, hard, but he barely moved. “I would have asked for your hand in marriage had I gotten the chance to talk to you back then! God, I swear you looked so good I wanted to get to you since then, but of course, Father hates you because of what you did, and meeting you before means that we would have met as enemies. I don't want that because that will complicate things and I didn't want my father to be suspicious of me that time yet but Jesus, you and Macmillan made me want to go to your side immediately and . . .” You trailed off, turning your head away in shame, as it dawned on you that you had begun to yap. You cleared your throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, continue,” he demanded, tying up the ends of the bandage in a tight knot. “I want to hear more from your side.” He picked up the jar of ointment and stood up, leaving you to fix your clothes as he put the ointment back in the cabinet.

“More like you want intel from me,” you huffed and stuffed the hem of your shirt back under your pants, before unbuckling the belt. You caught him shoot you a look as he heard your words but said nothing, and so, you lied down the couch. “Well, anyways, so, right, where was I again?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but you snapped your fingers, stopping him. “Right, joining you and Macmillan, sooo—”

Price dragged a chair close to you as you began to tell your tales like you were in your own world. Without hesitation, you unfolded your story to someone who could use your words against yours. Price, somehow, at the back of his head wanted to make you shut up and make you realize that you could stop, have some privacy or at least a bit of secrecy, because it felt illegal that you were rambling everything you knew and what he wanted to know like it was merely gossip.

It made him question himself again as he watched you gestured your hand in the air, slapping his thigh as you thought he wasn't listening or when you found something funny in your story, was this really the woman who had imprisoned a monster? Were you the one they called their princess whom he once couldn't reach?

It seemed somewhat surreal that you were more human than he thought, and whatever had you done to him, that made him want to keep the life in your eyes in contrast to the void he had seen in your pictures.

Gazing at you, it felt like you shouldn't belong by his side. That you were the type of a person that shouldn't be tamed, shouldn't be kept at one place, shouldn't be locked down.

At the same time, you should be kept an eye on, and creepin’ jesus, where was your goddamn filter? A face of an angel, a demon in disguise, a mouth of a sailor, and a humor as dark as coffee. And yet, he found himself relaxing as you became relaxed yourself, tensions getting off his shoulder as though you had begun to lift the burdens with him.

“You good?” You asked, seeing as he appeared to nod off. You propped yourself up.

“Always,” he groaned, his deep voice sounding like a low rumble, and straightened himself from a slump.

“You look tired, Price,” you called out.

“Normal for a Captain.”

“Shall I leave and let you rest?”

He tilted his head, making the shadow of his hat angle to a view that made his looks even better. “You're telling me you won't let me rest unless I tell you to get out?”

“Well, I don't really want to get out there.” You scratched an itch that suddenly appeared on your arm. “I will shut up, just give me a book or a pen and papers.”

He hummed and got up on his feet. “Move over,” he motioned at you, and you scooted to one side of the couch, but frowned when he padded over to his desk, fetching a pen and sheets of paper. He sluggishly walked back to you and flopped down on the furniture, letting his body be hugged by the soft material. He handed you the materials. “What are you going to do with them?”

“Draw,” you simply said, putting down the paper and pen on your lap as you yanked your legs up on the couch.

“Right, I have . . . some of your drawings that you left here,” his voice went low, almost like he didn't want to say it.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, remembering you drew naked men beating the shit out of one another's dicks, saying it was a renaissance drawing to the rest of the 141. “You can throw them away.”

“Don't you want it back?”

You snapped your head in his way, a bit surprised by his question. “Well, I mean, you might have been disturbed by my sketches, and I have no particular use of them, so, uh . . .”

“You can use one of my drawers as your stash,” he offered and swung his leg onto the chair before him. “My sergeants and Ghost have their designated stashes in this room. You can have one as well.”

“I . . .” You pondered over your words, your brows slowly knitting. “I'm not a member of the 141.”

He scoffed and leaned onto the arm of the couch, tapping on his hat to make it tilt and cover his face. “You are one now.”

You stared at his figure, slowly falling to a slumber much needed in his line of work, before bringing your attention back to the blank sheet of paper before you.

With swift hands, you began to sketch a circle as guidelines, trying to visualize and remember Simon Riley's features. The signature skull musk, the dark paint or maybe, just naturally dark circles, and distant eyes as though he sees something no else can. Noting some things about him down, his pale lashes, height, the lower portion of his body, his arms, and perhaps, how he would look on gears during deployment.

As you were finishing up, you could hear light snores coming the the Captain, and scoffed, “Sleeping beside an enemy,” you said underneath your breath, a smile appearing on your lips as you changed sheets.

You ran your hand over the paper and smoothed the wrinkles down. “Perhaps, I made the right choice in going to you.” You began drawing a messy outline of his body. “But I hope it doesn't come with a price.”

I'm very sorry for the late update, everyone! I have been caught up with school (quizzes come in every other day) and, uh, have been trying to take care of this lovely biker guy I have in my basement who I wouldn't let take off his helmet while I rant to him about fucking the 141. Though, I hope you take this extra which I seriously thought wouldn't be this long, as an apology, and hopefully upload the next chapter in a couple of weeks.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / Discord / Art Post

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @cassiecasluciluce, @annoyingstrawberryballoon, @unicorngirly1, @thriving-n-jiving, @squidalapobre, @tallicaside, @eustassh

[blairboo]

IDWT$

Noah Sebastian x Fem! Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend is a fighter, and takes you to one of his fights, which he betrays you, are you going to seek help from his opponent?

Warnings: Fights, blood, betrayal, bruises, pain

Word Count: 2k

---

Fights.

That's what my life became after I started dating Ryan. He had been fighting since he was 14, grew up in this world, and I knew that very well when I started dating him. Ryan had always been very clear about showing me that this was his life.

But then, he never let me go to any of his fights. He said it was a dangerous place for me. I never doubted that, especially on the days Ryan came back, simply broken. But I sensed there was another reason why he never wanted me to go with him. He was jealous and hated to see me near other men, and I knew that where he fought, there were only men.

It had been a few weeks since his last fight. Ryan wasn’t a weak or inexperienced fighter; he grew up doing this. But in his last fight, he lost. He didn’t want to tell me who the other fighter was, which I found strange, considering every time he fought, I always knew who his opponent was.

Today, he was going to fight again against the man he lost to. Ryan seemed confident, saying he wouldn’t lose this time. I always believed in him. Ryan wasn’t a vengeful person, but after his last fight, it seemed like he wanted revenge on the guy who had raised his hand instead of Ryan.

I found myself sitting in the living room while Ryan packed his bag to head to the Glass House, his fight gym. He grew up there and had been the best and most evolved fighter in the gym.

“I want you to come today.” I turned my head in his direction to make sure I heard him right.

“What?” I had been dating Ryan for three years, and he had never let me go to his fights. Why now?

“I want you to come to my fight today.” He came towards me and took my hands.

“Are you sure? I know you don’t like me going there,” I asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely. I want you to see me beat the crap out of that jerk from the last fight.” He had a frightening smile on his face.

I gave him a weak smile and went to our room to get ready. I wasn’t quite sure what to wear since I had never been to the place or seen how people dressed there, but I opted for black leggings and a white shirt with a jacket over it. It seemed comfortable.

I went back down to the living room, and Ryan was already ready with his bag slung over his shoulder. When his gaze met mine, I couldn’t decipher whether he liked my outfit or not, but he didn’t say anything and opened the door, extending his hand for us to leave.

Ryan was always a gentleman with me, but there was something in his behavior that bothered me a lot. His jealousy irritated me. He never let me be near other men, and if it happened, he would probably yell at me once we got home, telling me I didn’t need to be so friendly with men. And how much that annoyed me.

❦

The drive to the gym was calm and silent, just the music on the radio playing and the raindrops falling on the car. Ryan parked and got out, telling me to wait for him to grab the umbrella, and I looked at the place in front of me.

Upheaval Underground.

What the heck was this?

“Are you going to just stand there?” Ryan looked at me angrily while holding the umbrella.

I got out of the car, positioning myself under the umbrella as we walked towards the entrance of the venue.

We headed to the entrance, where there were many people drinking around the arena, and red lights flashing. A voice over the loudspeaker announced that the fights would start in 20 minutes. Ryan took my hand and led us inside. The place smelled of alcohol, smoke, and weed.

“I need to get ready for the fight; I’ll put you in the balcony, you’ll be able to see well.” Ryan pulled me through the doors of the arena.

❦

It had been 15 minutes since Ryan left, and I was looking down at where some fights were already happening. This was definitely not the kind of thing I was used to; there was a lot of blood and shouting in the ring.

As time passed, the fight ended, and I knew it was Ryan’s turn to fight. For a moment, I felt apprehensive. I had never seen one of his fights, and anxiety was building inside me.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced Ryan’s entrance into the ring. He was wearing black fight shorts, and his gloves were red. The look on his face was confident.

I looked around as people shouted Ryan's name; he seemed like a big celebrity.

The voice announced the entry of the other fighter in the ring.

“And now, my fight lovers, we have Noah Davis against Ryan Miller in the ring, two beasts, but only one will walk away with the belt tonight,” the voice said again over the speakers.

Noah Davis.

Who was he?

Noah entered the ring wearing a black cloak over his face, and his gloves were black. He was tall and in good shape, and then he took off the cloak.

I thought Ryan was handsome until I saw him.

“Focus; you’re watching your boyfriend fight,” the voices in my head warned me.

A loud whistle declared the start of the fight, and until then, the two of them just circled the ring, staring each other down.

Then Ryan tried to throw the first punch at Noah, which he missed.

Noah retaliated with a punch to Ryan's face and a kick to the side of his thigh. Ryan staggered a bit but quickly landed a punch.

The fight continued, fists and kicks flying everywhere. There was blood on the ring floor, and I began to feel nauseous. I lowered my head and could only hear the people shouting and the sounds of punches.

My head started to spin, and I could feel nausea creeping in. I needed help. My hand reached for a water bottle I had brought with me, and when I found it, I quickly brought it to my lips, drinking as if I were stranded in the desert for 30 days. At least it relieved the nausea I was feeling.

❦

The final whistle of the fight snapped me out of my thoughts, and I lifted my head to see Ryan lying on the floor, surrounded by paramedics, while the referee raised Noah’s hand and another man put a belt around Noah's waist.

Ryan had lost.

Noah rubbed his hand on the belt in circles while shouting words to the people around him.

“ i’m the fucking king!” he shout out

His eyes scanned the crowd until they found mine.

He paused for a moment, continued to stare at me, and gave me a playful smile.

Realizing what I was doing, I quickly left the area and went to look for Ryan. I needed to know if he was okay.

I walked the concrete hallways, searching for someone who could help me and tell me where Ryan was. I arrived at a room where no one was present, but I could hear voices behind a closed curtain.

I moved closer to the curtain, and the voices sounded like moaning.

I pulled the curtain aside.

Ryan was sitting on the stretcher, with several cuts on his face, and there was a nurse with her lab coat open, sitting on his lap.

“What the hell is this?” I screamed furiously at the both of them.

Ryan’s eyes looked at me with what I could only describe as desperation.

“I swear it’s not what it looks like; I can explain,” he tried, but his words and nothing were the same thing to me.

He tried to stand up, but the woman on his lap didn’t move.

I looked at him again.

“I’ll make sure to thank Noah for beating your ass,” I turned on my heels and walked toward the door.

I heard my name being shouted several times, but I continued without looking back.

I stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall.

“Problems in paradise, huh?” a voice came from beside me. I couldn’t see who it was; tears of anger burned in my eyes.

I wiped my eyes and looked in the direction of the voice.

Noah.

He was leaning against the wall, just wearing his fight shorts.

“I’m not interested in your victory story,” I rolled my eyes.

“That guy in there with my girlfriend; is he your boyfriend?” Noah asked, a slight smile on his face.

“I guess so.” I wasn’t interested in continuing the topic.

My boyfriend cheated on me with the girlfriend of the guy he just lost a fight to.

Wow, how ironic.

“Come on, I can help you get out of here,” he extended his hand to me.

“I’m not interested in leaving with the guy who just beat my ex-boyfriend,” I turned and continued toward the other exit.

“Come on, the woman in there was my girlfriend too. If you let me, I can help you forget about this. Besides, you’re not leaving here alone; well, at least not without being harassed.” His voice was playful, but I didn’t know the place, much less who the people who frequented it were.

Noah still had his hand extended to me, which I gratefully took.

Ryan had cheated on me, and he definitely deserved this.

❦

Noah led us out of the arena, where many people were gathered, and the rain had stopped, so there were definitely many more people than when I arrived.

“How did you come?” he asked.

“My car,” I pointed in the direction where my car was parked.

I even wondered how Ryan would get home, but that was now his problem. Screw it.

A voice behind me made Noah clench his fists.

“What’s this, Noah? You were just with that blonde and now you're with another?” a man approached, placing one hand on my back.

Noah stepped in front of the man.

“Don’t touch her,” his voice had changed; it was no longer soft but filled with anger.

“What’s up, man? We can take turns.” The man had a smile on his face.

The next sound I heard was Noah's fist making contact with the man’s face, and soon the place exploded into shouts, with punches and kicks flying everywhere.

I looked around and saw no way out, and I felt a tight grip on my arm.

Noah was holding my wrist tightly, trying to pull me out of that fight.

And then…

I felt a pain on the right side of my head and something burning in my ribs.

The pain was agonizing.

I felt two hands gripping the sides of my face.

Everything went black.

---

**NOAH POV**

I looked at the woman lying on my bed. Her face was bruised, and there was a deep cut on her ribs.

She was so beautiful.

I started to wonder when I decided to bring my opponent's girlfriend to my house.

Well, now she was an ex-girlfriend.

I ran my fingers along her face down to the scar on her left shoulder.

With a quick movement, the woman grabbed my hand and pulled it away from her scar.

“Don’t touch me,” she backed away.

I still didn’t know her name.

“I’m just trying to help you,” I raised my hands in surrender.

She seemed to be scanning me, looking at everything around her.

“Where am I?” she looked at me suspiciously.

“I’ll tell you, but only if you tell me your name,” I thought it was a fair trade.

She just stared at me.

No response.

---

Hellooo Everyone!!

So I decided to post earlier the story, so I really hope that you enjoy this.

Idk if this deserves an part 2, but lmk if you all want it

Thank you!

TAG LIST

@foliosgirl

Blair👾

[alpaca-clouds]

Schrödinger's Disability

"Stop using your autism/adhd as an excuse!" I cannot tell you how often I got to hear that. Because here is the thing: Most people do not perceive either of those two diagnosises as "real". Even if they know they are real. Even medical professionals do not quite... understand it. Even those working with neurodivergent people.

Of course, if someone is the kinda autistic person who has also some sort of mental impairment, people perceive it as a disability - but if it does not come along with that kinda stuff, a lot of people treat it, as if we make an active choice to do or not to do something.

I told this story yesterday: When I was a kid, the following thing would always happen. When we would have art class, some of my pencils would drop from the table. Most likely because of dyspraxia. Now, when that happened I was simply not able to stop what I was doing. Because my brain cannot handle "stopping one thing to do another thing even for just a moment" very well. And it could handle it even worse when I was a kid. But also, I do not have object permanence. So, if an object does not exist within my field of vision, I just... forget about it. So, I often would just forget to pick the pencil back up. And teachers would be: "Oh, this boy is too lazy to pick up his own things." Which was not at all what was happening.

Another thing that happened to me too often is a very typical autism thing: Someone tells me something. But they do not tell me this in plain words, but rather imply it. So... I very much just not understood it. So, for example, I got told on a Discord Server by one user: "I have muted this channel." Which I understood as: "They muted this channel (maybe because it is very active)". What they said was, though: "I do not wanna see this channel, stop tagging me in this."

And mind you, this happens at work and university, too. A good example is the good old question of: "When are you done with this?" Which I usually understand as: "When are you done with this?" But what they mean to say is: "Hurry up, I need this now."

Last semester I had this happen at university even. Basically I misunderstood the final assignment, because it was not spelled out. Thankfully the professor was less of an asshole about it, than most people. I explained it to him, he understood, still got a good grade. But that tends to be more the exception than the rule.

As I said, this is a thing that even medical professionals do not really get. Even therapists do again and again fail to just communicate with autistic people clearly. They do not think about us usually being unable to understand implied meanings. We only understand the literal meaning for a lot of stuff.

And again: This is especially harsh with people like me, who superficially seem to function well in society. Heck, I have been told by professionals that I could not have ADHD or autism, because I archived a master's degree at university. Because they cannot comprehend that both ADHD and autism are a spectrum. It is not something you "either have, or have not" but it is a wide spectrum of symptoms that are differently strong in different people.

In Germany this also shows harshly when it comes to disability benefits. Because autism on its own rarely ever qualifies for disability benefits at all. Mental disabilities that might be linked to autism do. But autism on its own? No. Same goes with ADHD. And this... is kinda silly, right? Because we have studies upon studies that people with autism and ADHD often cannot work fulltime - at least not permanently. And we also know that generally neurodivergent people are more likely to be fired for a plenthora of reasons. So, yeah, we should kinda be treated like disabled, right?

And the worst part? In the parts where you get legally discriminated because of disabilities? Yeah, we still get that. We cannot immigrate into all other contries. Like, I cannot immigrate into New Zealand, for example, even though I would like too, because New Zealand discriminates against people with autism when it comes to immigration.

So... yeah. No, this sucks.

Nobody would tell a blind person overlooking a visual sign: "Stop using your blindness as an excuse". But with autistic people? It is the norm.

[sunderwight]

Been thinking about the implications of Jayce needing a sponsor/patron to get into the academy.

Jayce Talis:

-is from Piltover

-comes from a family of good standing and moderate wealth

-is a certifiable genius

-even outside of his hextech dream is an accomplished engineer

-has no criminal record or other blemishes on his background

-presumably passed every relevant aptitude test

-ticks all the superficial boxes (looks, health, charisma, etc)

And yet, this guy still requires the patronage of a wealthier house with a family member on the council in order to pursue his career in academia. Viktor manages to do without, but as we see there is a definite limit that Viktor has pretty much hit even by the start of S1, stalling in the role of Heimerdinger's assistant, a position of influence but one that is necessarily limited to whatever is approved of by Heimerdinger. Jayce is able to ascend higher only with the full force of his advantages behind him, and even then he's almost ruined by the first major blow to his reputation.

Also, despite hextech becoming widely used by the general public in several capacities by the time of S2, Ambessa can't find any other scientists among the Piltover elite who can figure it out. Some of that might be down to the smarter ones just not wanting to cooperate with a Noxian warlord, but we've seen the clever minds in Zaun figure out how to manipulate hextech with at least enough success to avoid obliterating themselves in the attempt (mostly), and with way less access to any of Jayce or Viktor's research on the subject than is presumably available to their academic peers in Piltover. You're telling me there's not a single would-be authoritarian self-serving prominent tech guy in the upper city who can also figure out hextech?

But the thing is, I can in fact believe that, because in order for Jayce to get hextech off the ground he needed not only House Kiramman's support but also Mel's, like he had to launch an entire political career alongside his actual scientific research, and he started nowhere near the bottom. Mel's probably right when she says that if she hadn't stepped in to support him (regardless of how badly the whole hextech thing actually turned out) then Jayce would have either ended up sabotaged or had his work stolen out from under him by someone with more political traction.

There's a strong implication in that, and in the apparent apprenticeship system of the academy, and in the stupidity of the head of the council prior to the explosion (guy whose name I can't remember, who Mel gave the child's toy to), that many "prominent geniuses" of Piltover are just stealing the ideas of students and assistants with less social mobility, stamping their names over the accomplishments of people in their employ and acting like they came up with all of it themselves. Heimerdinger's not the type to take credit for Viktor's achievements, but I'd bet that he's an exception to the rule. If Viktor had taken up with a different employer, he probably would have had to resign himself to only gaining ground in their name, to just making the progress he hoped to make without ever getting credit for his own innovations. Heck, that still kind of happens even in his employment with Heimerdinger and partnership with Jayce -- despite the two of them not actively diminishing Viktor's contributions at all, the council in general dismisses him as more of an assistant than 50% of the mind behind the hexgates. Jayce is Mister Progress, and no one even tries to put Viktor's face on a mug (not that he'd want it but that's beside the point).

So what does this say for the talented thinkers who don't luck into sponsorships with the most influential houses in the city or catch the eye of established council members? What about the geniuses and revolutionary thinkers who attended the academy while Heimerdinger wasn't looking for new assistants, whose apartments never blew up and caught the eye of ambitious young politicians or chill science bros? Like absolutely the fact that few of the bright young minds in Zaun have less than a snowball's chance in hell of following in Viktor's footsteps (especially after hostilities escalate) is atrocious, but things are so bad that most of the bright young minds in Piltover are probably stuck holding assistant and secretarial positions and working unpaid internships under guys from wealthier families who aren't half as capable, but whose names nonetheless go on all the papers, and whose house sigils get stamped on all the innovations.

And that's if they can even manage to get into the academy at all.

Like I can see why we didn't get more information on how Viktor went from being a poor cripple in the undercity to one of Heimderdinger's assistants, and why tptb were throwing around ideas of his parents basically just getting a uniform, sneaking him into the academy, and encouraging him to bluff his way through until he was enough of an established presence that no one questioned whether he actually got there legitimately or not. Because the only other thing I can think of is that he did get some kind of official scholarship or backer, but that it was the equivalent of a predatory student loans situation, where getting into the academy set him into debt so far that if hextech hadn't taken off, he would have probably spent the rest of his life paying it back.

Not a deal offered to many and not a deal most would take, though considering Viktor wasn't expecting to live very long unless he could find a miracle anyway, it probably seemed like a better option than just waiting for the pollution and chemical runoff in the undercity to finish killing him while he stayed at home.

Anyways. Yeah. Piltover's a shithole too, I think. That place has gotta be just lousy with Elon Musk types.

[val-of-the-north]

Tibia Mariners and Those Lost in Death

While I am at it, I should talk about a detail found in Messmer's Shadow Keep. On the way to the Specimen Storehouse, you'll be faced with a peculiar sight: boats lit on fire.

This seems to be a callback to Viking funerals, except the boats are placed in a row and burnt on land. It's certainly an odd practice, but it might only be done this way because Messmer's forces are far from an accessible shore or water that's deep enough to perform it normally.

However, something else caught my eye. The boats looked quite familiar so I went back to check and...

It was the EXACT model as the boats used by the Tibia Mariners! Perhaps it is obvious seeing as the Messmer boats are used in a funerary rite, but I think it's still quite a significant connection, especially since the old Mariners have gotten quite a bit of new lore in the DLC. In Charo's Hidden Grave we can find the skulls of boatmen as a crafting material, presumably that of previous Tibia Mariners.

This is outright confirmed after finding the lone Tibia Mariner in the area, who upon defeat drops the Tibia's Cookbook, which describes them as the oldest of grave keepers.

(Btw I love the detail of the piece of lace cloth and golden ornaments, they are the same found on the Mariners themselves. They even come with the same ghostly glow)

This is quite the revelation, as prior to Shadow of the Erdtree we had no way of knowing that these guys actually predated the spread of Deathroot and Godwyn's transformation into the Prince of Death. And how could we doubt that, since they even drop Deathroot themselves? But there was something that most people have neglected to note about the Mariners, me included.

In the base game, the Tibia Mariner found in the Wyndham Ruins drops a spell called Tibia's Summons. This inconspicuous sorcery of the servants of death actually holds a perplexing description which mentions a group known as "Those Lost in Death".

There was something seemingly redundant and unexplained about these guys. What does "Lost in Death" mean? Why aren't they simply called "Those Who Live in Death"? It wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that this description just contains an outdated term for the undead before they stuck with the one used in-game. However, through the Tibia's Cookbook, we find a NEW reference to this same concept.

Roughly the same title (Those Lost in Death = one lost in death), the same underlying sentiment, and we have verifiable proof that the Tibia Mariners are outright ancient... so what's the deal with this? Well, I have a theory.

The descriptions of these things hint at the fact that the dead have been wandering for a very long time, and that they are in need of leadership. Before the DLC, it was easy to assume that the undead were simply a result of Deathroot, and the game seemed to suggest the same thing by stating multiple times that it was the origin of Those Who Live in Death...

... but that's the thing! Prior to Deathroot connecting them to Godwyn, the undead amounted only to shambling corpses. They were not LIVING in Death, but simply LOST in it, which is how the Mariners were able to control them in ancient times through the use of sounds, both their horns and the Calls of Tibia. It's only through the guidance of a lord, in this case the Prince of Death, that they found an identity and new life.

It's likely the undead waned in the era of Marika because of her elaborate Erdtree burials and general control of life and death. Heck, the figure of Rosus, who guides us to the Catacombs, must have also played a big part in their disappearance. His axe has a similar power to the Tibia's Summons and it's called Rosus's Summons. Its description also mentions that the dead easily lose their way, meaning that Rosus was meant to lend the dead a guiding hand. "Those Lost in Death" would be lost no more.

Without people Lost in Death, the Mariners kind of lost their purpose and vanished for a long time... until the Shattering and the rise of Those Who Live in Death of course. It might mean that the only reason they hold onto Deathroot is because it attracts and connects the new undead.

I guess Godwyn was meant to be a sort of "lighthouse" for all undead. He would make sure they never lost themselves but also that they would be allowed to live instead of being forced back to rest like with Rosus and Marika. Him being a "lighthouse" also fits the marine theme that all this death business is going for quite neatly I think...

But to return to what started this... maybe those boats lit on fire are Messmer's way of making sure the soldiers of his army aren't lost to death after their passing. A way to give them a proper rest the way Marika would have wanted, even though he is limited in what he can do about it. The Catacombs are now corrupted with Deathroots and Godwyn's corpse bodies, and guarded by his fervent golden Death Knights.

(P.S. - I didn't know where to put this, but "Charo" is one letter off from Charon, the ferryman of the dead in Greek mythology. Seeing as the place is connected to the Tibia Mariners, who shepherded Those Lost in Death in an age long past, I find that this connection might not be mere coincidence...)

[lunamugetsu]

I see a lot of people going with the idea that if Danny were to be captured and tortured by the GIW, that the main people that would find him are Young Justice, Teen Titans or the Justice League main heroes.

So I raise you this idea.

The one who finds the GIW facility that's keeping Danny prisoner is The Question. The resident faceless conspiracy theorist hero that works for the Justice League. (the one I'm thinking of is the guy from Justice League Unlimited. The one that got together with Huntress. You can imagine this with the Renee Montoya version if you want, but I'm just thinking of the guy Question)

Now hear me out. The Question is known for having crazy conspiracy theories and in the the cartoon, Supergirl asks Green Arrow why they have the Question on the roster for the Justice League since he has such crazy theories, he must be insane. And Green Arrow replies with that some of his theories have actually turned out to be true.

So couple that with how The Question gets crazy theories and he does investigate them on his own time. It wouldn't be a stretch that he finds out that there's an obscure government agency that he instantly starts getting suspicious of as there's very rarely any documentation he can find about it. But what hammers his suspicions in is the obscene amount of money that's being pumped into that agency and a serious of facilities that somehow exist and yet also do not exist but he knows it's real because some of them required a humongous power grid to be able to have the facility function.

The Question starts investigating the facilities. Going undercover finding obscure ways to get into the building. He gets in finds a super secure, heavily fortified area that he could tell where most of the energy is being powered to keep locked. He finds the lab areas where he can see the autopsy tables all with machinery that are definitely raise some eyebrows. He starts downloading information about the facility from their servers and finds that the codes to unlock the area that was blocked to him before.

He goes to investigate that area and low and behold, who does he see but an imprisoned Danny who has clearly been tortured. The Question would then go "well I'm breaking him out" and just does an impromptu jail break and takes the kid which sounds the alarm. They're getting the heck out of there. The Question contacts the Justice League gets him and the kid to the Watchtower.

Later on Danny is staying with the Question, because Danny need a place to stay and he's cool with the faceless dude that saved him from his prison. The dude is like super chill with all of the stuff he talks about and actively listening to everything he talked about. Even adding comments of his own like

"I knew it! Lunch Ladies are connected with creation of the mystery meat! And they're funded by the government so they can use it as a brain control weapon to control the future generation!"

or

"The politicians of today could possibly be possessed by the ghosts of the past. They're unwilling to relinquish any power they possessed even in the afterlife!"

Plus, Danny's like completely cool with making food and cleaning up after Question. Because one, the food doesn't come to life and try to attack him like it does at home. And two, the man keeps all of his conspiracy stuff pretty organized so there was hardly anything for Danny to clean up. And sure the guy has a weird lifestyle with things such as brushing his teeth with baking soda because he says fluoride is used by the government to be able to see the people better from their satellites. Or that he'll look through everybody's garbage and would sometimes drag Danny with him to help, which he later learns is a great way to gather information about someone. And having conversations with the dude is kind of creepy when he can't see the dude's face, but he gets used to it and then starts practicing his shape shifting to see freak out the other heroes when they see he has no face.

Meanwhile The Question would have moments while working where he's like "Wait! Did I feed the kid this morning?" also Huntress is there because she doesn't trust her boyfriend at keeping a human being alive, even if they are half dead.

[fefern]

Hiii I saw ur Scar hcs, and the TD Hybird part really piqued My interest. If Reader (gender-neutral), agreed to it, how would Scar react to it! And also Maybe, if it’s painful (because it probably is, considering it’s like shoving a whole New Lifeforce into your body) would He feel sorry for Reader? (I would feel sorry for myself if it Hurt 💀)

✧˖° scar's reaction to you agreeing to merge with a tacet discord. | scar headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: after some thought, you agreed to merge a tacet discord with your body just like your lover scar has kept asking you to do! how does he react, and what's the process like?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: scar, gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none! no serious details of the transformation process, but if it's too much let me know and i'll change the warnings!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hi hi pretty anon!! thank you for sending this wonderful ask in!! had me wondering for a long while how exactly scar shoved that whole other being into himself LOL!! (~ ~)" hope you enjoy this! requests are open as always! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ scar ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

when you first come to him with the idea, he’ll blink once. then twice. then a third time.

did he hear you right?

he’d at first be shocked that you’d agree

he’s used to asking many people to join the organization and insert a tacet discord into themselves just to be met with rejection time and time again. it's a normal part of his job.

but for you to agree? and it being his lover nonetheless!

scar is over the moon, so happy that you’re aligning with his ideals! he knew you’d come around!

he’d immediately begin talking energetically to you about the side effects that he experiences, and what it’s like being able to transform and merge your body with a whole new life form. 

it takes a lot of preparation for you two to be ready for this event, and when you’re all set up and ready to go, he’s the one that flicks the switch to begin the transformation. 

sparks fly, and a bright white light appears in an instant, almost like lighting. 

and he knows it’s a part of a process, and he knows what it’s like to be in there.

heck, he’s kind of got a manic happy expression seeing how successful the process of putting the tacet discord into you is going.

but can’t help how a small part of him feels his heart drop as he hears you scream, hears the way you’re in pain, sees the way that you’re in tears because of how painful it is.

watching you, his lover, get ripped apart in real time, and then getting pieced back together, hurts a part of him he didn’t expect to feel.

he almost wants to turn it off, to go back, but that in itself is risky. if he stops it  now, he’ll be threatening you with being seriously injured or worse, dead.

so he lets the process finish, basking in your glory and shoving down his worries before it finishes with a halt. 

some smoke appears, but when it settles, there you are.

you most likely have some new scars now or other physical changes due to the process, but he still finds you just as beautiful as you were before. 

he’ll quickly rush to your side and for the next week or so, he’s stuck to your side. his eyes are always on you, and he’s essentially nursing you back to health. 

you will be doted on to the fullest extent, and he’s suddenly the best house husband in the world.

he keeps telling you during this time how excited he is for you, how much of a stronger duo you two will be together, and how he’ll train you to be the best of the best just like he is.

but on the first night that he’s taking care of you, he’ll have his back towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed as you lay down. his tone gets softer, a little out of character for how usually smooth and charismatic he can be. after some silence, he breaks it.

“thank you for doing this for me. for a while, it felt as if this side of me was something i couldn't explain to you, but now, you truly are able to understand me for who i am. i will guide you through this new journey, and i will love you with all i can.”

probably also kisses the back of your hand after he says this KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING-

[navstuffs]

The Visitor

Pairing: Incubus!Leon Kennedy x GNSupernaturalHunter!Reader

Summary: Your mom always told you to find allies between your enemies - but your incubus consultant, Leon Kennedy, wants to be more than that.

Warning tags: SMUT with gn!reader so MINORS DNI,frenemies to lovers, sexual tension, masturbation, oral sex, penetration, excessive cum (its my headcanon for incubus so), jealousy sex (sorta)

Author's tags: we are the end of my halloween challenge! thank you so much for everyone who supported me. i am so freaking proud and happy with myself that i finally got to finish ONE thing that i commited! last one has to be smut. happy halloween!! enjoy your reading!

my halloween's masterlist

Rain starts as you drive to your home. It has been one heck of a night. The streets are empty as they should be at 2 a.m., but your senses are on high alert. You blame your genetics: coming from a legendary lineage of supernatural hunters, you were expected to become one from your early age, liking or not. It was in your blood. The problem? To be able to sniff other supernatural beings with that same skill prompts your social and love life to be awkward sometimes.

Take tonight as an example: first date with a nice fellow you met on a dating app. When you arrived, your sixth sense instantly picked a creature nearby; you shouldn't be surprised, but obviously, it came from your date. The man, a recently transformed werewolf, ended up reacting to your dangerous smell. And what was supposed to be an excellent night with you fucking your brains out ended up with an awkward goodbye, together with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

As you park your car in front of your house, you rest your head on your wheel. It had been like this for a while: you met a nice person until you found out they were friends with a vampire or a family member who was a banshee. Your romantic life was nonexistent, which your mom would approve of: "We must remain sharp. No time for this romance bs." Says the woman who almost ran away with a vampire as a teenager.

You are so focused on your thoughts you don't pick up the familiar sensation stinging in your chest as you should. You had been around him so long that your body had started not to react in alert when you were near him. It's almost as if you are getting comfortable.

You exit your car, covering your eyes against the rain, which is getting stronger. You notice the familiar figure sitting on the steps of your porch. He has his hood on, his face partially obscured by the darkness, but you would know him from anywhere: Leon Kennedy. The incubus, you sometimes have the displeasure to work with him. You sigh, wondering what he was doing there so late.

As you approach the entrance, Leon raises his head, and you are met with a pair of enchanted blue eyes. You can feel your stomach twist in a way you are used to by now. It is not technically his fault: Leon needs to have this effect on people if he wants to feed. His eyes start from your head to your well-dressed figure, then your legs, and return to your face. You decide to ignore that and the way your body has warmed up.

"What is it? This better be important." You scoff, and Leon finally gets up, opening a small smile.

"Am I not always important?" Leon chuckles, crossing his arms, a smug smile on his lips. Attractive bastard, you think.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What is it, Kennedy?"

"And where did you come from? A date?"

"Kennedy, I really don't have time for that." You answer, impatient. Your body is telling you to get away from the "monster," and you have to trust your instincts. You search for your house key, walking past Leon and ignoring how inviting he looks tonight.

"Werewolf this time? At least it wasn't a ghoul like last time," Leon teases you, walking up behind you. You look back at him, furious, after opening the door of your house, and Leon raises his arms in a sign of defeat. "I am kidding."

"No, you are wasting my time. Goodnight, Kennedy." As you try to close the door on his face, Leon stops it. You look at him like he has gone crazy, caught off guard by the look you are met back: hungry as a hunter staring at his defenseless prey. 

The rational part of you wants to tell Leon to fuck off and close the door on his face. Advising you to remain unaffected if Leon is trying to seduce you now. But you are so tired tonight that you let the irrational one speak. The one that is needy for some sort of human contact tonight. Even if it's from a freaking demon, who pisses the crap out of you.

And to not help, the next time Leon speaks is in a much more vulnerable tone.

"Can I come in?"

Your mom's biggest piece of advice? That you should always find allies between your enemies. They were always traitor among their kind. You and Leon met by accident three years ago. Like most sex demons, he would prey on his victims in places with a strong sexual desire, like strip clubs, bars, or regular clubs.

You were there trying to find another sex demon who was killing his victims after sex, instead finding yourself in the middle of a fight between two very hungry incubus. You should have had an easy time, but a bigger fight started amongst the humans present as well. It was a mess.

Leon helped you, to your surprise. You realized he was an incubus as soon as he grabbed your hand to get you out of the middle of the mess. Your body reacted as it should to his presence: you pulled your hand away, disgusted, but simultaneously, you were affected (and you knew it). Usually, you shouldn't remain unaffected by their extreme sexual energy (they were created for that), but with Leon, it was different. You didn't know why. Leon offered to help find this killer incubus, which proved to be an easier task with him at your side.

And now you could consider him your partner. A very annoying, sexy, good-looking sex demon partner who always looked at your body with interest when he thought you weren't looking.

Like right now. You ignore again your rational part as you bend over to find a bottle of water by the fridge. If Leon's eyes are on your ass or not, you don't really care. It is your fault for letting him inside your house anyway.

"Again, what do you need, Kennedy?" You ask as you close the fridge door with a bump. Leon is resting against the kitchen counter, the hood down. His dirty blonde hair is by his shoulders now, much longer than you first met.

"Decided to go for a bike ride late at night. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh? And you are telling me that because? Are we friends or something?" Leon ignores the irony in your voice, a small smile on his lips. You wait. 

"No, we are not."

"Good, because-"

"I don't want to be your friend, anyway." Leon declares a somber tone in his voice. It's that same feeling you have had many times near Leon: he is trying to take down your defense walls, one by one. Wanting for you to feel anything other than danger.

"I see. The feeling is mutual." You whisper back, clearly affected this time. Leon starts approaching you slowly. When he stops before you, your back against the cold fridge. There is nowhere to run from his blue eyes. You can't move or don't want to move.

"What do you truly want?" You murmur again, afraid of the answer. Leon places each arm to your sides, caging your body with his. You have never felt so scared before, but not in the wrong way. Never felt so small. So powerless. Passing control to someone else shouldn't feel so easy. 

"What do you think I want?" He tilts his head to one side, tempting you to answer. You bite your lips, wanting to close your eyes but keeping them locked on his. You can still pull him away, your rational part suggests. Pull him away and never see Leon Kennedy again. But do you truly want that?

"This is a trick." You place your hands on Leon's chest. Either stopping or grabbing it, you don't know. You close your eyes, shaking your head, refusing to see, to feel what is right in front of you: Leon Kennedy wants you. 

You were doomed from the start as soon as you let him in. Not here, not today, but from the club. From accepting his hand, reaching out to you.

You know that getting too close to the sun could eventually burn. You have known since the first meeting that allowing Leon Kennedy into your life would be trouble. The wet dreams about him, the fact you would get jealous every time he went out for "a meal." You tried to deny for a long time, ignore, and kill those feelings that only grew stronger. Because who would be stupid enough to fall in love with an incubus?

"Open your eyes." Leon's smooth voice commands, and you still fight again, your body urging you to obey him. Tired of resisting, you open to find him just inches away from your face, his lips close enough so you can finally kiss them. "I can give you what you want. You wouldn't have to go scoping around searching for it. I can leave you breathless. I can give you all the pleasure you deserve and much more."

Leon's voice sounds like butter. This is it: you are into the incubus enchantment. You are melting inside, your hands now grabbing his hoodie. 

What actually breaks you is that Leon seems to be asking for your permission. Deep down, Leon could seduce you, could make you kneel and beg for him. Instead, the silent please in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, his hand trembling against your cheek. You close your hands around his hoodie, bringing his lips into yours. It surprises you how ferocious you are kissing him, surprises you how you moan into the kiss.

Finally, your body aches relieved. Finally.

The feeling is mutual to Leon. What he never has told you is that since he met you, he knew he had to have you: he didn't know what it was about you. He had never heard of anyone of his kind falling in love (they are supposed to be the embodiment of sexual desire, anyway). The time bonding together (for more, you tried to not call that), fighting other creatures, and saving each other's asses made Leon just desire you even more. And for some strange reason, you seemed to reciprocate his feelings, too stubborn to admit. 

His feelings for you made him stop feeding as much, as Leon didn't find much fun and interest in other people. Everything tasted bland and boring compared to you. It didn't help with the dreams, the horny thoughts about you getting worse and worse. Usually, jerking off would be like a small snack for Leon, but thinking about you never left him completely satisfied. He needed to have you.

And tonight, especially tonight, after another sleepless night and having another dream about you sucking him off, Leon decided to, as numerous past nights, bike around town to cool off. He would need to get home and maybe jerk off again, imagining you squirming under him, begging for him to move when he noticed your smell. His attention turned into jealousy when he saw you hugging a werewolf who clearly had sexual intentions towards you.

After seeing this, Leon turned his motorcycle around with one destination: your house. He needed to try. He needed to show you what he felt for you. And if you sent him away, well, at least he would have tried.

Your bodies are entirely in sync. You are surprised to notice Leon knows precisely where and how you desire to be touched and how you like to be kissed. You "blame" the incubus side: he is supposed to seduce you, so you give him what you want.

You fall back into your mattress, and Leon pulls away from you momentarily. You are only in your underwear, bare chest, a complete mess with your lips swollen with the kisses. Your body is vibrating for him: Leon needs to admire that. Or else he would never believe his dreams turned into reality.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers with reverence, taking his hoodie off. You are surprised to see him with no shirt on. Leon pulls his pants down, and you gulp, watching his cock spring free.

"No underwear?" You wonder, your eyes locked into his hard-on. Were all incubus supposed to be this thick and big? 

"Easier that way," Leon answers, shrugging his shoulder. He kisses you again, and his hands take off the last piece of your underwear. He doesn't even know where to touch you first: your hard nipples or your sex? He is eager and somehow nervous. Leon is probably the first case of a nervous incubus in history.

"Leon?" You call his name, confused. He raises his head to meet your eyes, an emotional expression on his face. It is the first time you have called him by his name.

Leon starts paying attention to your nipples. He watches for your reaction, twisting and pinching the way that makes you moan more. You are clay under his hands; if Leon told you to run around naked, you would. At this moment time, you are no one else except his. 

"Spread your legs for me."

You obey his command, feeling his hard-on against your thigh. His hands go down your belly to your sex, more wet than usual. Leon smiles, rubbing you with a fingertip to get a taste of your juice. He chuckles as you tremble, your face embarrassed. 

"I have never been so wet like this," You confess.

"You never heard? Incubus charm can do that. Especially if the other one desires us back, really, really bad." You ignore the way he probably would have said meal. You can feel his breath between your tights, and your hands go into his shoulders to warn him.

"I won't last long if you do this."

"Exactly my point."

By the first touch of Leon's tongue on your needy sex, you can feel close to the orgasm. Your body is so warm, and one of your hands grabs his golden locks, keeping his head there. That only seems to thrill Leon more: He explores with his tongue up and down your sex, and you can't hold back your moans, your other hand grabbing the sheets under you. Leon hums, satisfied as he continues to savor you. 

It doesn't take long for you to cum in Leon's mouth. There is a sound of approval coming from his chest as your entire body shakes under him, your eyes rolling. It had never been this strong with your past partners, you had never come this fast. You would never tell Leon that. You need a moment to relax as Leon raises his head, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Even better, what I imagined." You try to not look embarrassed as he compliments you, the warm feeling in your chest happy to hear that.

"Leon?" You call him worried.

You finally realize his eyes remain the same blue eye color. You might not know a lot about incubus sex, but one thing you know is that their eyes turn a different color when they are feeding. You had heard about red, deep red, orange, orange red-ish. 

"You okay? Need more moments?"

"Why didn't you feed?" The worried tone of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. Leon smiles, attempting to ease your worries.

"I didn't ask for your consent. Didn't think it would be fair."

"You don't ask for consent for the others." You argue, the tone of jealousy making him chuckle. Leon lays on top of you, his arms caging you again.

"You are not like the others. You are special." Before the weight of his confession would make you run away scared, screaming for your life. Now, it makes you lock your legs around his hips, purring content.

"I am sure you say that to all others."

"No, I don't." His tone is serious. Leon starts to rub against your still-sensitive sex. He lowers down to kiss you, slowly and this time more patiently. You can taste yourself in Leon's mouth, making you wonder what Leon's taste is. When you break away, you confess in a hushed whisper you want him to feed. 

You want him satisfied with you. Only you.

When Leon penetrates you slowly, to not hurt you, for more wet that your entrance is with his magic, you watch fascinated his eyes turn into a weak red. He probably had been hungry for a long time, and something inside of you told Leon that he would need much more to be fed entirely. Leon pushes all his dick inside of you, giving both a moment to calm yourself. You feel delicious wrapped around him like that: tight and warm. There would be really no one else for him after this.

"You can move now." You whisper, rubbing his face. His first thrust is gentle but still drags a sob out of you. How come Leon has found your pleasure spot so quick? It had to be luck.

Your body had never been in such sync with someone else like that before: Leon knew precisely how to move his hips, how exactly would you make you moan the loudest. It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his thrusts still gentle, hitting that specific pleasure spot you love so much repeatedly. After you cum, Leon stops, worried you might say this is over, but you lift yourself from the bed with one hand, the other holding Leon's neck so he can look at you. You demand more from him, harder, faster. That makes you scream. That the whole town knows who you belong from now.

Your consent is probably what drives him over the edge. Leon doesn't stop now, and if it wasn't for his arm holding around your shoulder to keep you in the bed, you would have fallen out with the strength of his thrusts. You sound incoherent by now, pleading for something, someone, watching Leon's eyes flicker into a stronger red. His eyes never entirely leave your face, his hips hitting against yours with a supernatural strength. You thank mentally for your genetics, or else Leon could have actually hurt you. 

You both are close now, you to your third orgasm, Leon on his first one after weeks. Or months. He remembers how many times he has fapped to this vision before, your eyes rolling with your mouth parted as you begged him to not stop, to fuck you insane, never enough to completely satisfy him. But tonight, Leon is giving you all that he has gotten.

When you both come at the same time, your back arches against the bed, and your vision goes white. You scream, your body trembling under Leon's arm, holding onto his shoulders as if you are drowning in the water. Leon is your anchor now, keeping you remotely sane.

As Leon fills you up with a strangled moan of your name, Leon feels his starvation to subdue. He is still hungry as he always would be for you, but this time he is sated. Different from all the other times he had feed: different from the simple fucks he had when he was hungry. As the closest thing from an incubus could feel from love.

It takes you a few minutes to come back to reality. You blink, Leon at your side this time, his arm around you and his head resting against your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, but he isn't sleeping. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes. They are back to their normal blue eyes, even looking more vivid. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You can feel his cum in your tights leaking from your entrance. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you I would have given you what you deserved." Leon chuckles, and you hit in the arm lightly. Convinced bastard. 

You sit down, wincing at the soreness in the middle of your legs. You wonder if you were entirely human if you could walk the following day. There is a small puddle of white cum in the bed, and you look at him, surprised. 

"Didn't know you guys could make this much mess…"

"Only when we are entirely satisfied." 

Leon lays on his back, arms lifted with his head resting against his hands, a satisfied smile on his lips like he just had the biggest meal of his entire life. And he did: you look a mess, and Leon loves being the reason for that.

"So, do you have to leave now or…?"

"Not if you don't want me," Leon answers softly. 

"I don't." You confess, and Leon smiles, happy. The confused feelings in your thoughts and heart could stay for tomorrow. Now, you need a shower and change your sheets. Then cuddle with the man next to you.

"Do you guys cuddle?" You ask, sounding like an idiot, and Leon giggles again. 

"I think we can. You will be my first one anyway."

First one? Before you can ask what that means, Leon gets up from the bed. You watch as the light of the night illuminates his body, marked with your love. He raises his hand.

"I can see you are overthinking. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, okay?"

You nod. Sounds like the perfect plan. 

taglist: @90sbee, @scar-crossedlvrs, @roseglazedlens, @sarahs-secrets2

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay okay, so Tim finds out Bruce is stuck in the timestream and gathers all his siblings + Barbara for a meeting, presenting his evidence, a drafted plan of action to save Bruce . . .

. . . And asks what to do with this information

They all come to an agreement / majority vote

l e t h i m d i e

=========

Once upon a time they thought that Gotham, the world, that they, all needed Batman

Now that isn't the case anymore

Oh he was mourned, by the Justice League, by his allies, by civilians . . .

But the Batfamily has grown into their own, they've found a way to fight for Gotham, Bludhaven, Crime Alley because they've inherited the Fear of Batman

They've found their own ways to instill the fear of them into the criminal world

Their territories are becoming better even despite their Patriarch being dead

And they feel less dead than they were becoming under his thumb

The Dark Knight is Dead; Long Live The Dark Knights

· · ·

People questioned what would happen with the Prince of Gotham dead

Tim tried becoming CEO, but Jason stepped in himself to take the mantle from right under him, citing he was too young and should enjoy his childhood while it still lasted

That started quite a fight between them

Duke Thomas was adopted by Jason and while not technically joining the family's nightlife, Signal could always be found while the sun was up

Gotham's bones broke, organs failed, and flesh was bitten off

Gotham has never been better since Batman or even The Second Robin died

Praise the Batfamily

This is happiness . . .

?

=========

Somebody finds out they let Batman die

Be it the Justice League, other heroes, their rogues, or another hero's rogues, or somebody else entirely

They find out

Do other groups learn by themselves? Does this knowledge come into the hands of people who would spread it?

Either way, the Batclan is going to have to confront that it's known they let Batman die

Is the knowledge it used maliciously, is the accuser wanting answers, or is it a mix of both

Gosh, what will Alfred think if he learns? I imagine that even if he enabled Bruce's abuse they kept him around, stick close enemies and friends after all

(me thinks personally that Joker is throwing a fit with his nemesis dead, and he may not even be able to abuse the fact his own kids killed him cuz it was a child abuser who was killed by his abused)

(but I'd love to see your take on Joker's pov when he only knows Batman is dead and if he learns his kids left him for dead and if he learns they were abused by him and that's why they let him die)

Now I'm wondering what would happen if it got leaked to the public that the Batfamily knew Batman could've been saved but did nothing about it. There could be so many different reactions from different groups

Crime Alley people, criminals, people outside Gotham, Gothamites themselves, and Bludhaven residents would have different takes collectively methinks

Fucking hell, that isn't even accounting for all the fuckery you could do w/ Bruce Wayne = Batman and I'm not talking about an post-mortem identity reveal, I'm talking identity shenanigans

Like say the bats knowing they could have saved Bruce but left him for dead and somebody/some group learns this and leaks it

And then Jason steps in to say "you know the FUCK what? We knew our old man could have been saved and since he was shit we voted/agreed to let him die!!" And all hell breaks loose

And that's just one example!

=========

Inspired by that ask on Jason calling for a family meeting after learning Bruce is stuck in the timestream to figure out what to do from there

+ the one post where Dick tries and fails to get Tim to give up on Bruce so he doesn't embark on BruceQuest and Bruce dies in the Timestream

w/ Cassandra in particular, it'd be fun to explore her psyche in the Vote branch, if she votes to let Bruce die or not considering her "No Kill" stance

Heck, with both branches they alone bring so much fun to the table, even without the flavor of The Reveal

Agreement: You get the explore a world where all the bat kids + Barbara want Bruce dead, by why is it? You get to see all their reasons for it, and how their reasonings may mesh or clash and how they come to make their decisions!

Majority Vote: You get to see the conflicts between those who want him back and want him dead + what they do and think knowing who voted for what then onwards

Bonus if a batsibling or two start of wanting Bruce back but then decide they want him gone, or the reverse, or they flip flop again and again until they make their choice

Either branch I think would overhaul the Batfamily's relationships w/ each other in a major way and not just because someone has to take Bruce's spot as the family head or whatever, but because they chose/voted for said Patriarch to die

That's a big fucking deal

Oh yeah, Duke; is he ever taught about the (technically not) Patricide committed? Or do they keep him ignorant because ignorance is bliss?

Because if he learns through means other than them, yeah it'll be a shit show the Bats won't be prepared for beforehand

Oh yeah what about Gordon? Do you think he'd be in the know or learn via leaks or a leaker cuz he's kind of Barbara's family

Hello!!!!!!!!!!

Tw: abuse, death, murder, child abuse, suicide (let me know if I need to add more)

I love this idea, and I'm totally up for breaking it down.

If it's not an agreement, then it's likely that the ones who disagree will try to save Bruce regardless of what everyone else wants

This will turn into an all-out war as those who want Bruce dead try to prevent the others from succeeding. It would be like a weird version of capture the flag, clue, and escape the room. The save-Bruce team (whether out of love or duty) would need to gather all the evidence that Tim did while fending off attacks and working against the clock (there comes a point in time that it's too late to save Bruce).

Even if they all agree, it's still complicated feelings wise.

Bruce is an abusive piece of shit (especially in this AU), but it's hard to not love your abuser. The cycle of abuse is difficult to break out of. I think Dick and Jason would be at the point they are more apathetic to Bruce's care/love. They are adults who don't rely on him. They might still love Bruce, but it's easier for them to put a defense against the man emotionally to the point of condoning his murder.

Babs and Steph aren't his kids, so, while their feelings aren't black and white, it's easier to distance themselves from Bruce.

Canonically, I think Tim recently got adopted by Bruce. This makes it harder for him to outright reject Bruce. When given evidence (and shown what Bruce did to his other family members), Tim might come to the conclusion that it's better off without Bruce.

Damian is a child who just got to meet his dad. I doubt he'd be on board with this plan nor, with his hero worship, would he be able to find faults in him. He simply hasn't spent enough time with Bruce (and lots of angst to be explored there. Basically, his "siblings" that he's just met are telling him it's better for him if their dad is dead).

Cass loves Bruce. She trusts his mission, what he's supposed to stand for, and that he does love his kids (she can see that he truly does love everyone). At the same time, he hurts her siblings. She doesn't agree with leaving Bruce to die, but her feelings are complicated on the matter.

How the batkids feel about Alfred is similar (although not categorically per a kid) as they feel about Bruce

If they've reached the point where they have acknowledged that Alfred will never be on their side nor protect them, they still love that old man. They want him to be around, they would be sad at his death, but they know Alfred could and has hurt them. They know Alfred would choose Bruce over them.

The JL find out Bruce isn't actually dead with the Black Lantern battle thing.

Theoretically, other heroes can then start trying to save Bruce. Without canon Tim's information, though, they might not be able to. Bonus points to this batfam au if Oracle and others actively sabotage their efforts.

Gordon would be presented with all the evidence that Batman was an abusive piece of shit.

The Commissioner would try to bury any feelings of grief out of guilt for what he's unknowingly allowed his ex friend to get away with. If he knew that Batman was the same boy he threw a jacket over at the scene of that kid's parents' murder, he would sit at his desk with a bottle of scotch and a lit cigarette trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Jim would blame himself, curse Batman, and, as he curses himself for always allowing, do not a damn thing against what the masked vigilantes tell him to do.

Crime Alley and Bludhaven respectively probably would either not give a fuck, say "good riddance," or whistle at the fact the Bat's own kids refused to save him.

Gothamites know their vigilantes. If the batkids had refused to help Batman, than they trust the kids. There's nothing out there that would turn a man's entire family against him besides the man himself. By the end of the week, all Batman related stuff is burnt and replaced by the many symbols of the birds.

Anyone outside of Gotham (besides Bludhaven) will criticize the batkids. Gotham becomes fiercely protective over their birds after that and will fist fight anyone who tries to talk shit about them or their decision.

Fuck Joker, but here's how I think he felt about it.

Man definitely lost his shit in a fit of giggles. It seems (though Joker is slightly disappointed he wasn't part of the final showdown) that Batman was dragged down to the level of madness he swore he'd never go to. If Batman's kids turned against him, oh that must mean that the furry freak truly did horrendous actions against them!

That clown spends several weeks coming up with twisted fantasies and theories to ask out of the Birds to tease out their reactions for when he next sees them. He wants to know exactly how the Dark Knight fell and what was so dastardly to turn children against their father.

After he solves that mystery? Dealer's choice. He doesn't quite get as much joy without Batman around. He can play around with Red Hood and Red Robin specifically (if JJ happened), but nobody is the Dark Knight.

Maybe his melancholy turns into rage where he starts seriously gunning for all the Birds for not returning Batman to him. That, or Joker kills himself cause his nemesis/obsession is gone. Both are likely responses.

Anyways, I also love the positive notes you had that I didn't address. The hopefulness of them doing better for Gotham and Jason adopting Duke is fantastic. I'd love more of that as well as everything else

[dangerouslyknown]

Hi! Please do headcanons for gojo like you did Higuruma x

Satoru Gojo Headcanons 💎

A/N: Thanks for the request! My JJK obsession is hitting like a truck. I hope I delivered these Gojo headcanons well, mwah

Contents/Warnings: General headcanons, relationship headcanons both SFW & NSFW. Reader/partner is referred as "his S/O" or by they/them so gn!reader

General Headcanons

He used to play Moviestarplanet. He was sooo popular too. He had lots of friends and he made the silliest movies/artbooks which people loved

He likes to sing and usually he sings whatever is stuck in his head on random occasions, without really trying to sound good

...but oh boy if you ever get the chance to do actual karaoke with him... He sings beautifully when he puts the effort in. What a gorgeous voice, it almost surprises everyone

He goes crazy about Lady Gaga's songs and he loves to do silly little performances whenever he hears any of her songs

Gojo is also a Swiftie???

Somehow I feel like he is TERRIBLE when it comes to spending money. He hasn't had a day in his life where he had to worry about financial stuff, so...

He's the type of guy buy an expensive ice cream machine, then accidentally break it and buy a new one like it's nothing

He used to troll people online as a teen...

Actually, he probably still does it for the heck of it. He isn't one to do anything super offensive, but he enjoys messing with people

SFW Relationship headcanons

He hasn´t been in many relationships in his life, mostly because he rarely lets anyone close. Bro has trust issues :(

He dislikes being vulnerable in front of others, but his S/O is who he shows his true self. It is not something to take lightly

He KNOWS he is attractive and it flatters his ego when he is complimented on it, but if one wants to win his heart, you need to go deeper than that. He wants a person who truly appreciates him beyond looks

His love language is gift giving. He will gift his S/O anything they desire, and it´s his way of showing he cares. He gets excited like a kid in a candy store when he brings his S/O something and waits for them to open the gift

Most of the time it doesn't even have to be anything expensive. Of course he likes to spoil his S/O, but sometimes he just sees something small, which reminds him of them and he decides to buy it

Then, his unofficial love language is being annoying. He would ask "would you still love me if I was a worm" and whatnot

Related to that, he would act all smug and probably provoke arguments with his S/O just to entertain himself (but he's not malicious about it of course!)

When he sees something romantic, he would say "Ewww, sappy romance stuff" and then do exactly those things in private

He likes to show off with his relationship? Y'know, like posting about it in social media and PDA

This also ties to when he holds great pride in the thought that he's able to protect them no matter what. Maybe he's also a bit jealous and likes to show others that his S/O truly is his, and only his

Looooves to dress in matching clothing with his S/O!

Also, if he'd play online games with his S/O, he'd definitely want to do matching usernames (Sometimes it'd be cringe, but that's a part of why he loves doing it)

(NSFW under the cut)

NSFW Relationship headcanons

Leans towards being more kinky tbh

This man likes to have fun, okay? He is super adventurous in the bedroom. He's always coming up with new ideas for his S/O and him to try, and he usually is the one to initiate

He'd love to bring in ropes, blindfolds, toys of all kind and everything you could think of. He wants to use them on his S/O, but isn't against the idea being toys or ropes used on him either blindfolds wouldn't even work on him though

He´s a fan of playing with the dynamics. The vibes he gives is 50% pillow princess and 50% daddy, so there's never a dull moment when he switches up things with his S/O

He lives for teasing in the bedroom. You are not going to get anything easily from his arrogant ass: If he's a sub, he's going to be a brat. If he's a top, you need to beg him

He is capable of being serious during intimate time, but most of the time there's going to be funny and goofy moments

I could 100% see him doing something like slapping his dick against his S/O's face, then grin. At the same time it's hot but it's also hilarious (in his opinion)

Speaking of his cock, I think it's bigger than average. Length is impressive, then girth is more average-ish

Definitely very vocal during sex. He will not shut up whether it's whimpers or dirty talk

I think he loves to fuck his S/O from behind. He loves to kiss the back of their neck, their shoulders and all over their back while going at it

[the-badger-mole]

Aang was a kid who was the sole survivor of a genocide. Why doesn't that factor in your opinion of him?

I've talked about this before, but his age and tragic backstory are irrelevant. ALL of the main characters are children with tragic backstories, and they are more empathetic, have more growth, and their tragic backstories...actually matter.

Listen, for all people whine about how often Katara talks about her mom (which isn't really that often), it's clear how her mother's death shaped her as a character. It's clear how witnessing her mother's death formed her worldview, and Kya sacrificing herself for Katara made a mark (she never turns her back on people who need her? COME ON! That is obviously her trying to save people the way she couldn't save her mother). Even her wanting to learn how to fight and not heal (which is an insane battle advantage, btw) speaks to her trauma around not being able to defend her mom.

Even Sokka's trauma around the loss of his father and not being deemed old enough (big enough/ strong enough/ smart enough) to go with Hakoda and the other warriors come through in his recurring need to prove himself (coming up with the big battle plan for DoBS, breaking his father out of prison, learning swordplay, etc.). It's woven so neatly into the narrative. His trauma matters to his story.

Toph is the least developed of the Gaang, and her issues with her parents have more impact on character than the destruction of the Air Nomads have on Aang. Heck, Zuko's entire arc hinges on compound traumas.

Meanwhile, Aang's trauma....? What trauma? Yes, the loss of the Air Nomads is a tragedy, but we, the audience, only know it's a tragedy because we have real world knowledge telling us so. Personally, I was in 3rd or 4th grade when I began learning about the Trail of Tears, and in kindergarten when I began learning about slavery (I was born in Harlem. The kindergarten I went to taught us accordingly). When I saw ATLA, I had a frame of reference for the genocide of the Air Nomads. But it didn't really seem to bother Aang all that much. Oh, sure, it did come up when it was convenient to the plot, but it mostly seemed to be a way for Aang to expound on the superiority of Air Nomad philosophy and society to whoever he's talking to. Aside from that, and his first rush of feeling when he found out what happened to them, the loss of the Air Nomads doesn't seem to effect Aang all that much. If he doesn't care about his tragic loss, why should I?

Aang is a fictional character. I don't have to extend the same pathos to him that I would to a real life person. It is the writers' duty to make me feel for him, and they did not. The way he's framed is the issue. And here is where I really start retreading things I've said before, but I think it needs to be repeated (again and again and again). Aang is not framed as someone who has a lot of growing up and learning to do. I could give him a pass on his worst traits because he's a child and still growing, but the show doesn't frame him that way. The show wants me to see him as a precocious imp who's wise-beyond-his-years but still has a cheeky lil' mischievous streak. It's not trying to frame his lying to the quarreling tribes in The Great Divide as a bump in his journey to becoming an effective leader bridging different people together. It wants the audience to laugh at him getting one over on the foolish tribes who absolutely went back to fighting as soon as Appa was out of sight. The show isn't framing his desperation to get the village in Avatar Day to like him as a foolish pursuit he needs to get over if he wants to be strong in the face of adversity. It wants us, the audience, to feel bad for him because his charm isn't immediately bringing the people over to his side. It wants us to be indignant that the villagers don't see how important Aang is and wont' support him. The show isn't framing Aang's non-con kisses with Katara as bad because it hurt her. It isn't making a point to that Aang needs to care about her feelings. It wants the audience to feel bad for Aang and hope for Katara to come around because he's A Nice Guy™️©️®️. Aang is never shown to be a particularly good friend to any of the Gaang, let alone him being kind to strangers just because that's his heart. All of that I would allow to be just him being a dumb kid with growing to do if the show hadn't made it clear that Aang was perfect and didn't have to change, and in fact the world should change for him.

Aang's age and tragic backstory are irrelevant because the show made them irrelevant. All they left us with was a Gary Stu character who hides his selfishness under a thin veneer of cheerfulness. It's not good enough.