#like it takes so much training to do half of the things they do and to see it minimized to 'my dog in the yard' and 'give me a drink and i

[yay855]

And the thing about fascism is that it's inherently unsustainable. It promises the moon, blames all the world's problems on (usually poor) minorities, then does absolutely nothing to actually help the few citizens it supposedly cares about. Nazi Germany was running its economy into the ground after a major economic depression, promising the rich whatever they wanted in exchange for immediate support; a lot of American companies like IBM, Kodak, and Ford directly supported the Nazi regime because they were promised the moon, same as everyone else- but the truth was that the Nazis had no actual plan for stabilizing their nation. They ransacked whoever they could to desperately pay off the debts they incurred from their ransacking, and as the war went on Germany's infrastructure crumbled and its people became fed up with the Nazis' false promises. "Nazis were bad but at least the trains ran on time" is propaganda, their trains didn't work half the time, let alone actually stick to a strict timetable.

And the thing is, these new Nazis aren't just recreating the originals' plots, they're running it on an accelerated timeline. It took Nazi Germany about 12 years to collapse, six of which were before they started invading everyone- and now Trump is trying to push the US into going to war both conventional and economic with at least four different countries while the average wage relative to the cost of living is at an all time low (something he is making worse by trying to take away social programs like the ACA and firing so many government employees), the actual level of support for the minority he's trying to target (transgender people) is far higher than the public support for Jews was back in 1933, and most of the US government is still intact and fighting him. Congress is too spineless or complicit to do anything half the time, but the courts are very much fighting back, and so are people; there have been big protests across the country on the 5th of every month for a bit now, even if the news organizations aren't covering them or anything else about how people hate Trump.

Nazis have always been extremely incompetent; they're not successful or brilliant, they're just aggressive and hateful enough to get enough people riled up to steal power. Because the simple fact is that every single representative government is built on the idea that those in power will at least pretend to act in good faith, and those who won't can't get in a position of power. But that's simply not true, the people who seek out power are almost always the ones who can't be trusted with it, and they're also the ones willing to lie and cheat and steal to get their way.

Their entire shtick is demanding everyone respect and obey them until there's nothing left holding them back. Refusing to cooperate is how they're stopped.

[earlgreylatte]

Hi can you do yanderes with a hypersexual darling? Like they dont like their partner but still need it, its okay if you dont want to love your work (its up to you about yanderes)

Friends with Benefits

Hal Jordan: Your next door neighbour was annoying, incorrigible really, in how much he seemed to relish in being a bother. Loud and arrogant, flirting with you at every interaction, but infuriatingly attractive, you don’t like him, at all. Especially since he seems to wait until all he has left is a pair of sweatpants to actually head down to the basement to do his laundry, proudly showing off his slim waist and defined abs. Okay, maybe you want him in a purely sexual way. And he feels the same way, so you find yourself falling into a purely transactional arrangement with him; you’re both clean and neither of you expect a follow up call, so it works. And he’s gone half the time, leaving no room for awkwardness as he’s more concerned with jumping you. And he knows how to put that annoying mouth to use. But during one of his longer stints of absence, you find yourself calling an old hookup over instead. Before you can even take your clothes off, Green Lantern of all people is bursting into your bedroom and throwing the other man off you with a brutal punch, daring him to show his face near you again before throwing him out. And, oh god, Hal is Green Lantern. That explains the constant leaving he does. But you’re more concerned about his audacity. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend and he no right to interfere in your affairs. When his face goes blank, you’re almost thankful his eyes are covered. But he only smiles before yanking you towards him by the wrist, “Looks like I’ll have to change that then.”, and you don’t think you can say no.

Booster Gold/Ted Kord: It’s not that you disliked them or anything, you even found their antics humorous at times. But, that’s as far as you would go. The whole hero community wasn’t one you wanted to involve yourself in, preferring to just do your work and return home without having to go to any of their holiday parties. But the one time you are roped into going one, and after a certain beetle starts flirting with you, you find yourself in supply closet and being joined by Booster Gold who walked in on you two. And, it’s easy being with them, not having to explain your bruises and being able to take what you want, what you need. Ted even offers to create toys that could better fit your desires. And they both seemed to understand your arrangement well enough. But soon they goad you into playing Smash Ultimate after you shower, then they’re making you food and even bringing you pastries if you’re working together. But it’s still casual, even as they refuse to let you leave their cuddle pile and start wrapping their arms around your waist after you finally agree to platonically hangout. But when a villain gets the upper hand on you, and you find yourself whisked away in the Bug as Ted cradles you and Booster nearly beats a man to death, you realize you’re totally dating them, or at least they think so. Fuck.

Kyle Rayner: Kyle’s never had the greatest luck with romance, so at some point, he just says fuck it and gives up on the whole true love thing. He just pours himself into the whole Green Lantern thing, remaining in space, exploring and tending to his duties, rather than try to cultivate a relationship back home. You enter the picture as a fellow lantern, assigned on a diplomatic mission with him, and those always take a while to complete. So when you two are bored out of your minds in your shared room, one things leads to another, and you two begin a series of flings with each other. By the time your mission is over, Kyle has already told the Guardians you need more training and that he’s more than willing to help you for the foreseeable future. He knows he said he was done with love, but he couldn’t help himself. He needs to stay with you just a little longer, just to make you feel the same way as him. And you can’t really say much, seeing as how he’s your superior and saviour of the Corps.

Johnny Storm: Everyone and their mother knew about the Human Torch, former teen idol now a general nuisance. It’s a bit hard not to be envious of him, with the glitz and glam of his hero/explorer life, surrounded by models and fast rides. So, when he asks you out after saving you, obviously you reject him. But you keep running into him afterwards, much to your annoyance, and eventually he’s grating on your nerves enough that you say fuck it, and skip the date and fuck him instead (and maybe the look of shock on his face was worth it). And that was your first mistake because god was he disgustingly good in bed, leaving you utterly satiated and covered in bite marks, so of course you proposed to keep things casual, seeing how he probably wanted sex too rather than something more intimate, playboy that he is. Until he starts referring to you as his future wife to others before insisting he’s joking when you confront him. And showing up at your work while suited up, causing everyone in your vincity to start recording. After appearing on TMZ, you decide to distance yourself from him, but kidnappings and villain encounters push you back into his arms, while his nephew starts to call you ‘auntie’ and his niece stares at you menacingly. Well, if the world is going to see you as the Human Torch’s lover, the least he can do is put his powers to some use in the bedroom…

Peter Parker: You can’t really escape him, or at least that’s how it feels like. You and Peter have attended school together since kindergarten, but that hasn’t necessarily forged a friendship. No, he’s just kid you’ll have in your class some years or see around. You thought you’d never see him again once you reached adulthood, but he’s a student of Empire State University too. You don’t have anything against him, really, but you’d rather have one of your friends show up as much as he does. But you can’t deny he’s attractive, muscle hidden beneath those baggy shirts he wears, toned stomach revealed when he stretches just so. So when you see him hanging around at a party, awkwardly nursing his solo cup, you approach and one thing leads to another, and you’re back at his place. He’s stronger than you expected, able to manhandle you into any position he likes with a near punishing force, so you stay a bit longer. You thought he knew things weren’t serious between you two until, he’s confessing he loves you, that he has for a while, as he’s climaxing in you. You wait until he falls asleep to sneak out, but you knock a box off his desk. One filled with pictures of you. And when you feel someone hovering above you while you were inspecting a particularly risqué photo of you, you don’t turn around in fear of the expression on his face. God, you’re fucked, in more than one way.

Matt Murdock: He doesn’t have the time or capacity for a relationship, but he has his urges, ones that he isn’t able to control, if his body count or meetups with the Avengers aren’t evidence enough. He knows that you’re like him too, and that you won’t get attached, so you two come to an arrangement. But the more time he spends with you and the more accustomed he becomes with your body, the harder it is for him to keep his feelings down. He knows you don’t feel the same way, from the reactions and chemicals he can feel and smell from you. But even then, he can’t bring himself to push you away. So he listens to your heartbeat from outside your home, makes sure no one even thinks of approaching you when you walk home, and continues to pine. And when he overhears a coworker plan to make a move on you, he pays them a visit as the Devil. Even if he wants more, he would rather die than have things change with you.

Thanks for the ask! Changed the request just a bit—

Also 2025 is the year of Johnny Storm, whose comic version has no fics here!! Hopefully marvel rivals creates some hype!!

Masterlist

[writeriguess]

i love your works and i have a request

bakugou x reader where the reader is the only one who can calm him down? he is arguing with kiri and she only has to look at him to calm him down and everyone is stunned by it

author's note: Thank you <3

Serenity

It was a normal day at U.A., or at least as normal as it could get with Class 1-A. Training had gone well enough, and everyone was winding down, gathering in the common room after dinner. That peace, however, didn’t last long—because Katsuki Bakugou and Eijiro Kirishima were at each other’s throats.

Again.

“You’re so damn stubborn, Bakugou!” Kirishima snapped, his usual easygoing demeanor nowhere to be found. His sharp teeth bared slightly, frustration clear in the way his brows furrowed. “Why can’t you just let someone help you once in a while?”

“I don’t fucking need help!” Bakugou growled, hands twitching at his sides as small explosions crackled from his palms. His crimson eyes burned with intensity, shoulders tense and jaw clenched. “I’m not some weakling who needs to be babysat, shitty hair!”

It wasn’t unusual for Bakugou to get like this. He had a short fuse, and sometimes, even Kirishima’s patience couldn’t keep up. The rest of the class had learned to steer clear when the blond was in one of his moods, but tonight, something felt different. His explosions were sparking closer to the ground, the air crackling with the raw energy of his anger.

“Dude, we’re your friends!” Kirishima pressed on, his voice rising to match Bakugou’s. “We’re not saying you’re weak, but—”

“I don’t need a damn pep talk!” Bakugou interrupted, his voice nearly a roar now. His fists clenched tightly, explosions bursting erratically at his sides. “I—”

You sighed.

You had been sitting on the couch, watching the argument unfold, but now, you decided it had gone on long enough. Without a word, you stood up and stepped between them, placing yourself directly in front of Bakugou.

And then—

You looked at him.

Not with fear. Not with exasperation. Just looked at him.

His breath hitched. The tension in his shoulders sagged almost instantly, and the crackling explosions from his hands flickered before fizzling out completely. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers flexing as though searching for something to do now that they weren’t radiating anger. His brows knitted together, his lips parted slightly, and a deep exhale left his chest as if he had been holding it in this whole time.

The entire room went silent.

The rest of Class 1-A exchanged glances, stunned beyond words.

Kirishima blinked, taking half a step back. “Uh… what the hell just happened?” he muttered, looking between you and Bakugou like he had just witnessed an act of sorcery.

“Did… did Y/N just calm Bakugou down?” Kaminari whispered, eyes wide.

“No way…” Mina breathed, leaning forward as if she needed to see it closer to believe it. “That’s impossible.”

Yet, it was happening.

Bakugou, who had been one second away from either blowing up the room or storming off in rage, now stood completely still, his face unreadable. His sharp, furious crimson eyes had softened, the tension in his body had drained away, and the only thing that had changed was that you had looked at him.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes searching his, waiting for him to say something.

His jaw clenched. Then unclenched. Then, in a voice much quieter than before, he muttered, “Tch. Whatever.”

That was as close to an admission of surrender as anyone would ever get from him.

Your lips curled into the smallest of smiles, and that alone made Bakugou avert his gaze with a scowl, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed.

The silence stretched, thick with disbelief.

Sero was the first to break it. “Holy shit,” he said, staring at you with newfound awe. “That was… insane.”

“Right?” Kaminari agreed, his mouth slightly agape. “I’ve literally never seen Bakugou calm down that fast in my life.”

“You might actually have superpowers,” Mina whispered, completely serious.

“Forget heroes,” Kirishima said, blinking at you. “You might be a damn miracle worker.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Shut up,” he grumbled, though there was no bite to his words. His usual anger had dimmed into something else—something quieter. Something softer.

You simply shrugged, turning back to the couch and sitting down again like nothing had happened. “You guys overreact too much,” you said lightly, leaning back into the cushions.

“We overreact?” Mina scoffed. “You just tamed a whole-ass dragon with one look.”

Kirishima shook his head with a small chuckle. “Man, that was wild.” He crossed his arms, his frustration from before already forgotten. “But hey, at least it worked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou grumbled, rubbing his temples. He was still looking at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying to figure out exactly how you did what you just did.

The others continued murmuring about it, but you just shot Bakugou a small smirk before focusing back on your phone.

And despite himself, despite all the eyes on him, despite how infuriatingly obvious it was that you had some kind of effect on him—Bakugou didn’t look away.

He just sighed, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and sat down next to you, the tension completely gone.

Like it never existed in the first place.

[glassrowboat]

In Your Capable Hands. Mydei.

Summary: Chartonus himself claims Mydei's weapon holds divinity, majesty, and compassion all in the temper of a single spear head, a fitting weapon for a man like him. Regal, seemingly unforgiving, but kind all the same. It's why you never hesitate to take the blade from him even when it's still covered in blood to wash it all away despite the thoughts that still linger in your mind about the man from Castrum Kremnos.

I should not be trusted with my knowledge of blacksmithing// Suggestive //not proofread, but it's 1am for me

The towel in your hands had received one cut already, splitting it in half on the edge of a dull blade. It was desperate to stay together, even if it meant a few scraggly bits of red string dyed in the ichor of life were the only thing keeping it whole; as one.

Beneath the cloth was a spear, one that had also been broken. Time and time again, you had fixed it at the behest of your master Chartonus, only to have to once again piece it back together the next time Mydei had come to the smithy with guilt on his face and an apology for being too rough with your work. Yet he would always do it again.

At first you had told him off, or tried to, as you told him he needed to prioritize his weapon just as much as a man would his life, but....well, it made sense that argument hadn't exaclty resonated with him.

So once again, you sat at your workbench with Mydei waiting paitently at the counter. His arms were crossed as he watched the people pass by. Two little boys had stopped to say hello. To call him their big brother and share how excited they are for their next training session before running along as children do. Another had been one of his own men. They only exchanged a brief nod before they both went along their day. And lastly, there was you: occasionally given a word or two as you worked.

It helped pass the time, so you welcomed it well enough, answering any questions he had about how busy you had been today or your thoughts on the weather. Small talk, really, but it helped keep your mind busy enough and wouldn't distract you from what you were trying to get done.

Finally, you tossed the rag aside. It landed with a wet thwap in the metal bin.

"It's not broken. It just needs some sharpening." You said as you lifted the spearhead up to catch a stray beam of light.

Those with an untrained eye wouldn't even notice the cracks in the blessed metal, but those that could would always see it clear as day. It almost reminded you of kintsugi, but this was your masters work and not someone with an eye for gold who needed to pieceback together a broken bowl.

"That's fine." You heard behind you, Mydei's gruff voice filling your ears now that there wasn't a hammer going to town on an unfinished sword.

"Right, just give me a moment, then."

His head turned back to look at you, golden eye watching as you pried the nails keeping it mounted to the polished shaft and dropped them back down into a tin you kept close by for the smaller objects. It was full of tiny knicknacks just as much as it was full of soot and dust.

"What do I owe you for this?"

"The same as usual."

Meaning: Aglaea would cover it.

He hummed at that, wordlessly telling you he heard what you said.

"You know, with the amount of times I've done this for you, I'd think you would have figured it out on your own." Your hand dropped into the bucket of water at your side to pull out the whetstone. It had been soaking for long enough now, to the point you hadn't spotted a single bubble rising to the top of the water to pop open once it was exposed to the open air.

You wiped your hand off on your pants as Mydei spoke.

"I find it's best to leave this to someone who knows exactly what they're doing."

"If you say so. Or maybe you just can't get the hang of it."

The blade met the rock before you with a soft tap as you adjusted the angle, doing your best to get the proper forty-five degree angle you wanted before starting. The moment you did, you ran the blade up and down the block. You had once compared the grating to nails on a chalkboard, and in a way, you did still feel that same soft withdrawal tugging at you, but it came with a tinge of comfort now instead of a need to make it stop.

Your hands did the rest. Years of practice paying off as muscle memory took over, leaving your mouth free to prattle.

"Well, I can always walk you through it." You offered.

"There's no need."

"It'll be good to know."

His boots thudded behind you, creating a soft click every time the heel met the bricks below you both as Mydei slowly approached to stand behind you. You could feel him towering over you from where you sat. Even when you were standing, he always had to look down at you, leaving you feeling small in comparison, but the way his shadow loomed over you now as it blocked out the light coming from Kephale only made you all the more aware of that fact. "I already know how. I just want to leave the proper care to someone who knows how to treat it delicately."

The grating stopped for just a moment as your hands stilled. "Yeah? So you know that you have to start at the base before working your way up to the tip?"

"I know you skipped honing the blade."

"...Wasn't needed."

Your attention narrowed back on the blade, its distinct smell of rusted blood drowned out by...him. It was obvious he hadn't stopped by the baths to wash off before visiting you, clearly finding his weapon for more importance, leaving Mydei covered in sweat that had yet to be washed away. You had picked it up before when you had taken the spear from him after he had dropped it on the work table, but now it was suffocating you.

Gone was the ash you knew was filling your nostrils and staining the black from keeping the fire beside you both alight and roaring.

"And I would have done it, possibly ruining the blade in the process and having to bring it back here regardless. I'm just being efficient."

The thought to shoot back with the fact a metal blessed by the Titan's themselves wasn't that delicate lingered in your mind, but that thought was quickly quenched by the feeling of metal claws on your shoulder. You could feel the pinpricks of them poking at your skin, just barely digging in. It was cold in comparison to the heat you had been surrounded by all day, making it a welcome change even when you were still on high alert about just who was behind you.

And for some reason, you almost wished his soft hold on you would tighten just enough. You could feel those claws breaking your skin.

"Right. Well....good call then."

You couldn't help but cringe at how you stammered over your words, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy whatever Mydei had wanted from you as he backed away and returned to the spot he had been collecting dust in before.

"What was that?" You whispered to yourself.

Shaking that entire encounter off the best you could, your attention went back to the blade in your hand, now noticeably held at a fifty degree angle.

Wrong.

It was wrong.

Your head shook side to side.

"You know, it might be best to go out and shop for a bit, Lord Mydei. This will take some time, and I want to see about hammering out the dents in your pauldron. Maybe shining it too if you take too long to get back."

You didn't risk looking back at him, not when you were unsure why desire had come over you so quickly.

Not even when you knew he was wordlessly taking off the armor on his shoulder. Each little chime of a buckle being undone made you move your hands a little faster and press the blade just a bit too hard into the whetstone.

You'd have to properly attend to it later. Check it. See if it needs replaced-

You flinched as the bronze metal filled your eyes, the familiar shape of it delicately placed down by your side.

"Calm down. Haven't I told you before that I'm not a mindless brute?"

Swallowing, you got out a yes.

"Then"- His head ducked down, meeting you at the same height to give Mydei a chance to glance at you properly. Your thighs clenched at having him so close, the heat from before having barely even dwindling and now reigniting as if you had used a bellow to cause a stir. Like this, you couldn't meet his eye. Not when you weren't sure if it would mean you would be tempted to break the space between you.

Ultimately, he pulled away. "Forget it."

A moment of silence passed.

"You should leave me your gauntlets as well."

"Fine."

They soon joined the growing pile on your table, rattling it and causing it to tilt to the side now that there was more weight where the one uneven leg was. You had been meaning to fix it, but like many things in your day to day life, it had gone unattended to.

"I'll get to that right away."

"Then we're done here?"

"Yes, Lord Mydei."

He pushed himself away from you, boots thudding against the stone once again as he headed back to the busy street full of colorful fabrics and stalls just waiting to be perused at his leisure. A single merchant had even waved to him, hoping to draw Mydei in with promises of a sale. Their hand hung in the air, yet his eyes turned back to you.

Only to see you staring right back at him. You could only hope the heat you felt in your cheeks wasn't noticeable, or at least could be passed off as a side effect of the sunny day. "Ah, goodbye then."

His hands, covered in callouses and scars painting his fingers to his palm, slid into the pockets of his trousers, hiding away just how big they were. "What time should I come to pick everything back up?"

"Well, given I'm handling your gauntlets, too, I'd say tomorrow morning."

"I'll leave it in your capable hands." With that, he walked away.

You watched for a moment, lips pinched together before dropping your head down to the table before you to groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That's what you were.

You wanted to scream and shout, maybe even go and kick that one beam in the smithy you always abused when you were agitated with your latest project. Anything would do as long as it took the edge off of where your mind was drifting as you looked back at the gauntlet before you, the five clawed fingers curled just so.

Stupid. It's stupid.

And worst off, in your own fit of self-denial, you had missed the way Mydei has adjusted himself in his pants in a desperate attempt to hide himself away.

[shizuturnspages]

kind of a vague request but how would yan childe be with a reader who doesn’t know about his job? would he avoid telling them and keep it a secret? how would he react to reader finding out?

Bloodstained Secrets

Pairing: Yandere Childe x Reader

Childe isn’t just good at keeping secrets—he’s a master at it.

A lifetime of deception, of balancing the mask of a playful older brother with the reality of a ruthless Harbinger, had made him an expert at hiding the blood on his hands. And with you? He had to keep the truth buried.

You weren’t like him. You didn’t understand war, death, or the weight of the Fatui’s name. You didn’t flinch at the sound of his footsteps, didn’t look at him with fear, didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him after he returned from his so-called “business trips.” You trusted him.

And he couldn’t lose that.

So, he did what he always did—he lied.

"I work under the Tsaritsa," he’d say casually when you asked about his job. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, everyone in the Fatui worked under Her Majesty.

"Office work is dull, but someone’s gotta do it." Also not a complete lie. Paperwork was part of his responsibilities. Of course, he omitted the fact that most of those documents were reports of who needed to die next.

"The bruises? Ah, don’t worry about ‘em, sweetheart. Just training with some of the recruits." Another half-truth. There were recruits involved, but they were often on the receiving end of his blade.

He played the part of the hardworking boyfriend well. Too well. He never let you see too much, never let you overhear a conversation that would make you question him. If you got too curious, he’d kiss you breathless, his lips pressing against yours until you forgot whatever had been bothering you. If you asked too many questions, he’d buy you something expensive to distract you.

But he knew.

He knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Secrets always had a way of clawing their way to the surface, no matter how deeply buried.

It happened so stupidly that Childe could almost laugh.

One mistake. One tiny slip.

A letter, sealed with the Fatui insignia, left half-open on his desk. Not even a particularly damning one—just an order, something vague about ensuring a merchant in Liyue Harbour complied with their rules. But it was enough.

Because when he walked into the room and saw you standing there, that letter trembling in your hands, your lips slightly parted in realisation—

Something in his world shifted.

You didn’t look at him like you usually did. There was no warmth in your gaze, no blind trust, no soft affection.

Just fear.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

"You’re a Harbinger, aren’t you?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through him.

Childe tilted his head, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Took you long enough." His voice was light, teasing, but there was something else behind it. A tension. A warning.

You stepped back. He noticed.

And he hated it.

It was subtle—the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to run. The way your breathing had turned uneven, as if you were just now realizing the weight of the situation.

Ah.

So this was what it felt like.

He had seen this expression before. On enemies who knew they weren’t walking away from a fight. On people who begged for their lives just before he cut them down.

He never thought he’d see it on you.

The realisation burned.

"I—" You swallowed. "I need to think."

No. No, you didn’t.

Childe moved before you could take another step back, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand wrapped around your wrist—gentle, but unyielding.

"No."

Your breath hitched. His grip tightened.

"You don’t need to think about anything." His voice was lower now, a quiet, steady thing that left no room for argument.

You stared at him, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs. "Childe—"

"Ajax." He corrected, leaning closer, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Say it."

You didn’t. But it didn’t matter. Because at that moment, he made a decision.

If you were afraid of the truth, then he would make sure you never had a reason to run from it.

He would keep you safe. He would keep you close.

And he would never let you leave.

Because he can’t lose you.

Not now. Not when he’s finally had a taste of something pure, something untouched by the darkness he wades through every day.

He’ll do anything to keep you.

Lie again. Promise you he’ll change. Beg, if he has to.

And if that doesn’t work?

Then… maybe it’s better if you never leave his side.

Because the world he lives in? The one filled with war and betrayal and death?

You wouldn’t last a day in it.

And if the only way to protect you is to keep you close—

Then so be it.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 12 - Emotional Damage

You make an observation.

On AO3.

Y’all walk. Everything is dim and gloom. Things move outta the corner of your eye and whispers skirt along the edges of your hearing.

Shadowheart seems to still be immune. Her eyes is fever bright.

The fuck does it mean to be in a cult in a place with literal, physical gods.

Fuck.

After an hour or two, Astarion comes drifting back down the line. Dread curls tight in you.

But y’all’re dating. Right? That means communicating. That’s what everybody says. That’s what most of your therapists talked (at) to you about. You just ain’t, like, listened very well.

You take a breath. This is about more than just you. This is about someone other than you, too. So you turn to him. “Good mor—”

“I wanted—” Astarion says at the same time.

The both of you shut up. Then do a little verbal dance, like trying to out polite somebody through the door in front of you.

You win.

“I wanted to apologize,” Astarion says first. There’s a hint of his usual lilting smarm, but it’s too clipped around the edges to be entirely smooth. “For last night. I’m usually, ah, better up to the challenge.”

Oh. When he, well. But you read that plenty of guys do that. Girls, too (you came on his hand in maybe a couple minutes last night, which might be a personal record). You were both going at it, so you don’t really see any reason for him to be so stiff about it. But he’s striding around like some Victorian butler, back yardstick straight, chin perfectly level to the ground (you read British royals train themselves to walk like that).

This man is usually all twirling hands and shoulder shimmies.

You debate it. Decide to take your chances. Lift your hand and flick the shoulder of his armor.

“It’s all good,” you say, when he glances (sharply) to you. “I liked. Um. Being with you.”

“How encouraging,” he says.

The rest of the group is mostly in front of y’all, with Karlach taking up the rear. You hope like hell they mind their own damn business, since half of them got pointy ears and you assume that means they all got super hearing. Fucking close ass quarters.

“How’re you doing?” you say. It’s usually the next step in small talk.

Astarion smiles. There’s something off about it. It’s a little too…perfect. Composed, even.

Fake.

“I’m quite well, all things considered. Rather eager to show you a full sampling of my portfolio, once we get the chance.”

Is he just nervous? Ashamed, maybe? There’s a whole parody song about coming in your pants. He might be worried he, what, disappointed you?

(It did the opposite. It…kinda went to your head in the moment, before he ran off. What an interesting thing to learn about yourself, his soft grunts filling your memory as he clutched at you and the glimpse of his face drawn tight—).

You shake your head. You’re having a conversation, goddamnit, not daydreaming about how he sounds mid-orgasm.

Although you could hear it again. Tonight, even, he seems to be offering. Twenty-five years, give or take, since puberty and you didn’t care much about all that. Felt horny, sometimes, but not really connected to any person (you did have your collection of toys, though, cause you’re a curious kind). Now this man got to you and woke up something in you and your body perks up at the slightest hint of him like a starved dog.

Still.

There’s a weird remoteness to him. And you don’t wanna push things too fast. Right?

“I’m getting kinda rusty on the Chondathan, actually,” you say.

“What?” Comes out flatter than fucking Kansas. The man nearly stops dead.

Ah fuck, you fucked it. Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you for being frigid and weird and you’re difficult and isolated and, and…

“Chondathan? That you was teaching me?” Because by god, this was the road you turned down and you can’t pull a u-turn now. You just gotta plow further on. “We haven’t used that. Since the Underdark. And I think I’m forgetting it. But it was fun. And seemed important?”

The way he rolled the r’s back at you. The way the words twisted in his smooth voice. The only thing human (kinda) down there. The only other living (mostly) thing that spoke. The tether that meant you wasn’t alone.

“I,” Astarion says. Blinks. Then that weird smile slips back on. “If you like. I do have a few books we’ve picked up along the way.”

And you cannot, can not stop the high sound you make. A month or more. Fucking weeks of sitting around at night, waiting to fall asleep. Sore. Aching. Too tired. Fucking bored.

“Holy fuck, I miss books so bad. Brainworms and monsters and murder and all that shit, I could deal with so much better if I could fucking read.”

Astarion’s lips purse, and he taps his chin with one finger. “Yes, you did mention a ridiculous public library.”

Gale makes a sudden movement ahead.

You kinda doubt he’s got any kids books, though. Nothing you could sound out, let alone comprehend on the little you’ve grasped so far (yet).

“What’re your books about?” You hope to hell they ain’t all religious texts or old essays collections of Old Man Philosopher Yells at Clouds. Historically on Earth, those were the only things valuable enough for people to want to preserve, all copying by hand. Unless they got printing presses here. In which case, could they have novels?

Astarion leans in close (it’s goddamn ridiculous how distracting he smells) and says, “I honestly haven’t a clue. I snatch them up to sort out later.”

Practical, if heavy. Well, maybe not for the average person. Who didn’t grow up in a fuck ass cult out in the sticks that treated anything not the Bible or the printed pamphlets of the Pastor as contraband (you’d been so nervous the first time you ever stepped into the city library) (the lord was gonna strike you dead) (the devil was gonna enter your soul and possess you) (holy shit there was so many and you wanted all of them).

“We can do a book haul,” you say. Which you then have to explain, and this time Gale just stops to let y’all catch up so he can listen in, not even bothering to hide it).

The road curves down and ends in a fuck off giant of a dead tree, fallen on its side over a crevasse. What looks a lot like wagon ruts carve up along that dead trunk.

You’re careful to follow in the exact footsteps of Wyll out front, and absolutely not look anywhere but your next step and the bank beyond. And not visualize your foot slipping, ankle folding, the tumble into the long dark below.

“Would you,” you start, mostly so you can distract yourself. Only to realize how presumptuous you’re being. But Astarion lifts an eyebrow, cause you started a question and need to finish it. “I mean. I don’t wanna be rude. Or demanding or nothing. But um. Would you mind? Reading to me? You can say no.”

“Doing alright back there?” Wyll says, once y’all are across.

You lift a thumb. Which you also then have to explain. Some gestures are the same here, but that one ain’t. Weird.

Astarion watches you, head cocked. Something strains around his eyes. Disappears the second you return your attention to him.

“Of course, my dear. It just seems a waste when we could be enjoying our time with other means.”

His hand in your pants. Maybe even your hand in his pants.

Your body flushes hot and tingling. Greedy. But also, y’know, fucking books.

Gale makes an odd sound and falls back further to join Karlach. You can feel her grin on the back of your head.

“I. I do, um. Like that,” you say. A lot. You’d probably ruin your panties here in a minute or two as your body starts to holler about it. “But, I dunno. That’d get boring if that’s all we do, huh?”

Astarion’s face changes. Or the angle does, or the torchlight hits it odd and you been spending too much time staring at him. Like repeating a word too many times, until it don’t sound real. A twitch, a flicker of something, and he looks like a different person.

His eyes. They’re…round. Ain’t never seen them that young. It makes him look…younger. Softer, maybe. Only for a second. Just enough to clock it. Then he twists himself back to smarm. Lifts a hand and presses it to his chest all offended southern belle, and gives a tiny gasp.

“Boring? Oh darling, have I left you so unsatisfied? Perish the thought. Only, you sounded quite pleased when I joined you last night.”

Said loud enough for everybody to hear. Do not glance back, Shadowheart. Don’t she fucking dare. She fucking offered you birth control, she knows what y’all’re about.

“Oh, what an interesting stone formation over there,” Gale says behind y’all.

You want to swat Astarion’s arm. You want to swat him so bad.

And the reply comes to you. Perfect. Sharp. A glance to his crotch and a crook of your eyebrow and you could say “really” all flat and he would know exactly what you was talking about.

But he ran off last night. Fucking apologized to you about it, and this seems…this is covering. All of it. It washes over you all cold and syrupy. His approach, what he’s said, his offer. He’s…worried. What, that you don’t like him no more? That you don’t want him no more?

That perfection in your mind would hurt him. Maybe more than you even know. You can see that clear as day, and the thought makes your heart ache (jesus fuck, you’re in so fucking deep).

You ain’t gonna do that to him. And fuck everybody else being nosy or judgy to you. You gagged down enough shame on the farmstead for years. You ain’t gonna choke down one drop more. Especially not here. Like this.

You lift your chin. Meet his gaze. “My people got a saying about too much of a good thing turning it sour. If all y’all eat is chocolate, you get sick. So yeah, I did like it. And if you don’t mind, darlin, I’d like you to read to me tonight. You, you got a nice voice.”

Probably didn’t need the last part, judging from Karlach’s tiny squeal and Shadowheart’s face pinching so hard you can see it in fucking profile. But it happened, and it seems to have whammied your target. Man actually takes a step back before he catches himself. And there’s them wide eyes again. Like…like you. In them early days. When Sasha or one of the group home neighbors baked some cookies and brought them to you, and you wasn’t used to getting anything but basic rations and a new dress when yours got too roughed up to patch, because asking for more was a sin. Decadence opens the door to the devil.

To this man, one compliment is a whole tray of cookies. A gift he wasn’t expecting. Something that didn’t even occur to him.

Your heart hurts again.

“I, of course,” he says, all quiet.

Up ahead, Wyll calls out. “I see light ahead!”

[luvmyboyss]

SAVIOR | SATORU GOJO

✮ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Synopsis: You were trapped in a monotonous life, every day was the same, same routine, same boring people, same boring boyfriend, untill one day it just changed.

✮ Warnings: Stalking, fainting, mentioned panick attack, anxiety

✮ Word count: 1.3k

✮ A/N: I'm thinking about making more parts obiously, but let me know what you think about it, if you like it or not. Also i'm still learning to put warnings so if anyone notice some missing please let me kno. Thank you!

✮ PS: Thank you @hyuneskkami for the blue dividers!! 🫶🏻😭

You were tired, all the days were the same schedule, every day that passed you were more tired, what you should do? You didn’t know, but you felt trapped in a loop, doing the same each morning, each midday and each night.

At 6:30 your boyfriend, who didn’t even want to marry you, after 7 years, you thought the day was coming, but it never happened. He wakes up, and instead of trying to be as subtle as he can so you can rest for 30 more minutes, he is the loudest person you’ve ever met. He goes to the bathroom and the only thing that you are praying is for him to just stay as quiet as he can.

At 7:00 your alarm goes off, and it’s a good thing that your boyfriend is now out of your room, so you can take a nice shower to try to stay calm and start the day nicely. You change into boring clothes, because after trying to be more stylish for a while, you noticed that everyone in the office stared at you, and at first you didn’t care, but after some time and lots and lots of whispering, laughter and mean looks, you started to be more like them.

By the time 8:00 rolls your boyfriend is already out of your tiny apartment and you eat your breakfast alone, the silence feels heavy, and you hate it, but still get trough it because in fifteen minutes you will be taking the train, because you’d be damned if your bf lends you the car you both paid for. 

Then, from 9:00 to 17:00-17:30 you work your ass off and with just some time to eat your lunch and relax, and all you can really think about in that time is how you wished you’d be somewhere else, living your life fully, and even tho you were still young you felt like this was your life for the rest of your stance in the world.

Around 17:45-18:15 you finally get home, no boyfriend at sight, and you are very tired, but still have to do dinner and both of your lunches for tomorrow, because he didn’t like it when meals weren’t done, ‘cause if you spend so much time home why don’t use it wisely? If not you will be met with the consequences of your actions, or lack of them in this case.

When your boyfriend arrives at 20:00 the table is already set, and you are preparing the lunches for tomorrow and setting them in a place where he can see them or he’ll get mad. 

You both eat and even though it hurts you, neither of you talks, and you still did not so long ago, but seeing that he didn’t care and didn’t listen, you just stopped. You should have left him long ago but can’t understand why you still haven’t. You blame it on the fact that flats are expensive and living with someone takes half of it off. 

Around 21:00 you are in your bed ready to sleep but the TV from the living room is just so high, you’ve tried lots of different ways to stop the sound, lots and lots of ear plugs, but none worked, so now you roll on your bed until bf comes to bed and the TV is off.

At 23:00 when everyone is probably asleep, and you can hear your boyfriend snoring you wonder if there is really a meaning to life, if you are meant for this life and if this is how it’s going to be forever.

You hope it isn’t.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

You woke up more happy this morning. Today you had to go shopping for groceries, and that broke your schedule a bit, and you liked that more than you let yourself to admit.

Around noon you got out and went shopping, walking around and getting to the center of the town seeing people expressing themselves made you feel alive again, but today felt different, you felt as if someone was watching you.

You let that pass as your brain tricking you. The thing is, you were indeed being watched by some white-haired man from some miles away.

You went home and started back your routine. It wasn't until some weeks later when you went out again, when that feeling of being watched came back, or rather stronger, because you'd been feeling it since that day when you went shopping.

You were walking around going to your trusted supermarket when you saw him, and how could you not? Even when he was sitting he stood out over everyone else.

Who was that white-haired guy sitting on a bench in front of your supermarket? Why was he wearing a blindfold? Why was he so...ethereal?

Deciding not to pay any attention to him, you get to get your groceries. Everything went well but after like an hour when you got out of there he was still there, and for you it seemed weird because even though he wasn't looking in your direction and wearing a blindfold, you still felt like he was watching you.

As always the longer route seemed more appealing so its the one you chose, half the rout in the feeling of being watched was still there. You couldn't shake it off, and then you saw him.

Even though the reflection wasn't the clearest you could identify him from miles away. Who could't? And he was... following you? 

"No, no it must have been a coincidence he couldn't be following me, right" you thought, but still weren't sure at all.

After some more turns and straights, the reflection gave him away again.

"Now he is following for sure"

You speed up your peace and soon enough the entry to your building was right there. After looking at both directions and seeing the white hair weirdo wasn't there, you decided to enter.

૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

The next week you felt watched every hour of the day, everyday, it was exhausting, at some point you even felt sick, it was very bad, your body was telling you to stop doing the thing that made you that anxious, you were anxious all the time, you. You thought you even had some small panick atacks.

One day while you were in the office your body had enough and you ended up blocking yourself in the bathroom.

You felt like everyone was watching your every move, you were out of your mind so you did what anyone would do, you took the day off and packed to get home.

Just after getting out you saw him, sitting on a bench but this time he was looking at you, or so you thought 'cause he was still wearing that blindfold.

At that moment, you freaked the fuck out, you started sprinting home, you didn't care about anything, after some meters you turned to another place, the police.

If he was still following you, he was going to meet the consequences.

When you arrived, you waited a minute to see if he was there, but he was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to go back home. 

When you were taking the lift to your floor your heart was racing, you wanted to stay home forever, you swore if you saw him again you were truly filing a police report and moving to another country.

You opened the door to your flat, but there was something weird. You couldn't point at it but the feeling wouldn't go away. And then you saw him.

"What the fuck!"

Your reaction was to leave your apartment, but for some reason there was something blocking the entryway. It made the outside blurry and now that you noticed the light from the outside seemed blurry too.

When he moved, panick moved through your body and you couldn't move "fuck" you thought. 

"Hey you don't need to worry, I'm not trying to do something bad to you, I'm here to talk about something important with you, it is..."

You couldn't even hear what he said because you fainted.

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

agere five hargreeves headcanons !!

— requested by @acpola01 —

— read part one here —

— cw: trauma and food issues

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

❤️ - five had a small collection of regression gear that he scavenged in the apocalypse and, much like he went back to find dolores, he spends a considerable amount of time trying to find the exact ones that he had originally. he’s very particular because he didn’t have a lot of stuff in the apocalypse and he isn’t used to being around people who can touch and take his things. his siblings try to get him more things and he always rejects it, though he does appreciate the thought.

❤️ - little five loves explaining things to other people. he’s a boy genius and does have a genuine interest in science and mathematics. his siblings don’t understand a single thing he’s saying half the time, but they think his excited baby babbles are really cute. luther is the only one that can follow him (in certain areas) and it surprises everyone else because no one expected him to be so knowledgeable about astrophysics. every so often, five does find an interest that the rest can properly engage with him in, but it’s usually super obscure things like his strangely specific love of transportation (it started with him liking race cars and building model planes with luther as a kid and turned into him studying the bodies of cars, boats, trains, and planes throughout the apocalypse. as someone who can teleport, he thinks regular forms of transportation are fascinating and he used to love traveling the world during the peak of his superhero career).

❤️ - he cries when something breaks or when he can’t use it anymore. like I said, he’s very attached to his things (there’s even a bowl of broken watches he collected canonically in his bedroom from his personal tests and training) and he hates having to replace anything. despite his irritation at having to redress in his old uniform, it’s so familiar and it’s his so he really struggles when he starts outgrowing them— to the point where he raids the academy storage rooms for any that might fit growth spurt and he ends up with ben’s old uniforms from before he died. five’s uniforms also make him feel younger so he has trouble throwing them out. he does enjoy sleeping in clothes taken from his siblings, though.

❤️ - he often has flashbacks to the apocalypse and, in the beginning, he’d force himself back into mindset of an assassin and refuse to let it shake him. after a while of being safe and at home, however, his body starts moving out of survival mode and it hits him all at once as his brain processes everything that’s happened to him. this means that there are a lot of times where he regresses during a flashback and cries until someone notices and comes to help him. more often than he’d like, that person was grace, leaving him to clutch onto her like he would when he was a baby while she coos and rocks him. grace doesn’t understand that he regresses, she merely does as her programming dictates and it dictates she takes care of her babies when they’re upset.

❤️ - he gets a service dog (mr. pennycrumb) who helps ground him during his moments of panic and is trained to help five with tasks, like reminding him that humans do, in fact, need to eat every so often (five is used to being hungry and he often forgets to handle his basic needs when he’s too invested in something else). little five loves playing with his dog and the two of them are inseparable. he likes having mr. pennycrumb sit beside dolores so he can play teacher. more than once, his siblings have walked in on him having a VERY serious lecture about the atomic structure of different elements while being no older than six years old.

[lostandbackagain]

valkyrie moodboard part 4 🎉🎉🎉

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

[hanzajesthanza]

dandelion’s incredible reluctance, and near-fright, to mention kaer morhen by name is somewhat endearing to me. we as the fandom throw around the name so easily, and it’s also home for geralt and ciri, so its name doesn’t carry so much weight.

but in dandelion’s case, it makes sense to fear mentioning it, for it was the site of the massacre… best to not let anyone hear its name… it’s kind of nice to think that dandelion has a degree of self-awareness, when something is as important as this

and also, some part of me just thinks that dandelion with his vivid imagination listened to geralt offhandedly talk about his childhood here or there, and… whatever were mundane facts or sepia-tinted friendly memories for geralt, made dandelion’s expression drop and his innards twist. so he conceives of kaer morhen not just as “the witcher’s keep in the mountains of kaedwen” but “that place where my best friend endured child abuse for eighteen years”

[adore-gregor]

🤞

[lecliss]

Sakura gets a second point for being the first to complete the tree climbing at being better at chakra control, but at the same time it just feels like she was made good at it so no extra training segment time would have to be put into her getting good at it and it can be all about Sauce and Nart. Idk that feels too pessimistic but also could totally be true.

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[youraveragecatastrophe]

Can you imagine what it must all have been like for Gray though?

Like. Picture this. After getting badly injured on your job, you get out of a long, long hospital stay. We're talking months. You don't remember any of those months. You don't even remember the accident.

So you get back to your boring little life. It's the same as it was before, but after brushing so close to death you do have a better appreciation for it. Or you try to, anyway.

And then you meet this weird young woman for whom you feel an inexplicable fondness. You talk for about 4 minutes. Later, instead of meeting you again as promised, she slips away. You think you'll never see her again. Well.

A few months later, she appears out of thin air again and says she seeked you out specifically to help with her job. You want to help, so you say yes, and you fly to New Zealand. There, everything seems straightforward until it- doesn't. It looks like you've been tricked, but for what? Then you find yourself into a situation more sinister and dangerous than you thought possible, yet you're not scared. When someone threatens the woman (your friend? It feels weird to call her a friend when you barely know her, but you feel close to her), you don't recognize the voice even though it evokes contradictory feelings in you. Happiness, fear? When you're in front of that weird bomb-like device, you don't know what it is but you know how to disable it, instinctively, confidently, like muscle memory.

Back in Sydney, you still don't get all the answers you want. The woman disappears again, but it's okay. You think this won't be the last you've seen of her. And maybe then you'll get your answers.

[jacentric]

.