#like the last time I was not masking and using my normal tone I ended up getting punched and having shit thrown at me

[mosspapi]

I'm realizing now that I think a big part of the reason I've felt so "mean" or "rude" or "disrespectful" the last few months is I'm simply not masking. I've almost forgotten I even 'should' be bcuz my brain is just not working the same anymore. And if I DO remember it's smth I 'should' be doing,I don't have the energy or mental capacity to try and figure out what tone to use or what people r wanting from me or what's socially acceptable, so I'm just using my normal tone. Which is flat and monotone and blunt and apparently a little aggressive. Which is. Not ideal

[aventurineswife]

Stealing Moments from Time

Summary: When Ekko decides to use his Zero Drive to craft the "perfect" day for you, things don’t go entirely as planned. Between chaotic time travel mishaps, watery disasters, and a rooftop confession, you realize that imperfection might be what makes everything perfect after all.

Tags: Ekko x Reader, Fluff, Crack fic, Time Travel Shenanigans, Banter, Rooftop Confessions, Found Family Vibes, Light Angst (Happy Ending), Humor.

Warnings: Mild language, Brief mention of getting wet/messy (falling into water), Ekko being a lovable dork, Reader teasing Ekko.

You squinted at the contraption on Ekko’s workbench, tilting your head as if a different angle might make it less intimidating. “Okay, so you’re telling me this thing can reverse time?”

Ekko grinned, leaning casually on the edge of the bench, his goggles perched on his forehead. “Not just reverse time, perfectly recalibrate it. It’s a work of genius, really. I mean, look who made it.” He gestured to himself, smug as ever.

You folded your arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Right. Because last time you tested it, you didn’t accidentally erase three hours and get stuck reliving Vi slapping you on repeat.”

His grin faltered for a second, but he quickly masked it with a laugh. “That was… a minor calibration issue.”

You snorted. “Minor. Sure. So, what’s the big plan now, Dr. Clockwork? More experiments?”

“Not exactly,” Ekko replied, his tone turning softer. He straightened and stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, I was thinking I could, uh, use it for something else today.”

Your teasing expression melted. “Oh? Like what?”

Ekko hesitated, his hands fidgeting with his work gloves. “I thought maybe we could… hang out? Somewhere that isn’t the workshop or a battle zone. Y’know, like normal people.”

“Normal people don’t time travel for fun, Ekko,” you quipped, but your heart fluttered at his sudden nervousness. He wasn’t usually like this—so unsure of himself.

“Yeah, but normal’s boring, isn’t it?” He finally met your gaze, his usual cocky smirk making a triumphant return. “So what do you say? I can use the Zero Drive to make sure our day’s absolutely perfect. No awkward moments, no bad jokes—”

“Wait, you think your jokes are bad?” you interrupted, feigning shock.

“Focus!” He grabbed your shoulders gently, shaking you with mock urgency. “I’m trying to be romantic here!”

You burst into laughter, swatting his hands away. “Alright, fine, time boy. Where are we going?”

Ekko beamed, grabbing his goggles and securing them over his eyes. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

Ten minutes later, you were both soaked, standing ankle-deep in the murky water of Zaun’s lower levels.

“Trust me, he says,” you muttered, glaring at Ekko as water dripped from your hair. “It’ll be fun, he says.”

“Okay, in my defense,” Ekko started, holding his hands up in surrender, “this wasn’t supposed to happen. The platform was stable a second ago!”

“Sure it was,” you deadpanned, wringing out the hem of your jacket.

“Alright, alright,” Ekko said, fiddling with the Zero Drive on his wrist. “I’ll fix it. Just give me one sec.”

He pressed a button, and a blue glow surrounded him. With a flash, he disappeared—and a second later, the platform reappeared, solid and dry.

“See?” Ekko said, grinning as he popped back into existence. “Problem solved!”

You blinked. “Uh, not quite.”

He frowned. “What do you—”

A loud splash interrupted him as you shoved him off the platform and into the water.

Ekko resurfaced with a gasp, his goggles askew. “Oh, you’re dead,” he growled, but the laugh bubbling in his throat betrayed him.

“Catch me if you can, time wizard!” you shouted, already running up the rickety staircase.

Ekko grinned, shaking his head. “Oh, it’s on.”

The rest of the day was a chaotic blur of laughter, near-misses, and Ekko occasionally rewinding time to avoid disaster. By the end of it, you were both sprawled out on a rooftop, watching the lights of Piltover twinkle above.

“That,” you said between breaths, “was the most fun I’ve had in… forever.”

Ekko turned to you, his eyes soft. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “But next time, no time travel, okay? Just us.”

Ekko chuckled, resting his head on his arms. “Deal. But only if you promise to stop shoving me into gross water.”

“No promises,” you teased, leaning closer.

He smirked, reaching up to flick your forehead lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

“Yeah,” Ekko said quietly, his voice losing its usual bravado. “Yeah, I do.”

Your cheeks flushed, but before you could reply, he spoke again.

“Now, uh, don’t make this awkward, but I may have rewound this moment a couple of times to get it right,” he admitted sheepishly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Ekko!”

“What?!”

“That’s so cheating!”

“Hey, I told you, I wanted it to be perfect!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, time boy.”

Ekko grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

And for once, you let him have the last word.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,” she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[cinna-stars]

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader - MDNI

18+ Trafalgar Law Ghostface SMUT - ABSOLUTE FILTH below the cut

Word Count: 3.3k

This is my first time writing in a few years. This was a self indulgent piece after seeing this art from hunnismoker on Instagram:

Trigger Warnings: 18+ MDNI, this is your last warning!

Knife play, Choking, Law has a potty mouth, Penetrative sex, Dacryphilia, Blowjob, Face fucking, Mask kink, Ghostface mask, Shachi being a little perv at the end

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Trafalgar Law, your boyfriend and Captain of the Heart Pirates, was acting more quiet than usual. Which was somewhat concerning, given that he was already one of the most stoic people you had ever met. It had started after you had come to him with the proposition of bringing a Ghostface mask into the bedroom. "I don't want to hurt you" was his initial response. It wasn't until you noticed a white mask in his dresser drawer that you realized he had been considering your request. You gently pulled it out, running your fingers over the smooth surface. Law's eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of you holding the mask.

"I... I got it for you," he admitted quietly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "But I'm still not sure about this."

You smiled softly, touched by his thoughtfulness despite his reservations. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, Law. I appreciate that you even considered it."

He stepped closer, taking the mask from your hands and examining it. "It's not that I'm uncomfortable," he said slowly. "I'm just concerned about losing control. The thought of potentially harming you, even in play..."

“ I trust you, Law. And if at any point either of us wants to stop, we will. No questions asked."

He brings his hand to his chin, rubbing slowly, gazing off pensively for a few moments. “Okay. Let’s try this.” He lifts the Ghostface mask to hover in front of his face.

“How do you want me to initiate this… and when?” He questions in a slightly deeper, more sultry tone than normal. Even the illusion of him wearing the mask has your heart racing and core heated, the question sending shivers of excitement through your body.

“I feel like the element of surprise adds to it, so, whenever you’re ready, Captain.” you grin. His golden eyes peer through the mask and examine the joy on your face.

He moves his free hand to ghost over your throat, pulsing his grip ever so slightly and leaning to your ear. “That’s Mr. Ghostface to you.”

A small whimper escapes from your lips and you hear a light chuckle from Law. “Something tells me this is going to be enjoyable for the both of us.”

A few days pass, and the anticipation of finding Law lurking around any corner wearing the mask that he had bought filled you with both lust and anticipation. He had teased you with it a couple of times, leaving it in places for you to find it, such as the bathroom mirror whilst you were taking a shower, and hanging from the back of his door in the dark of night. Needless to say, he had started to gain just as much excitement from the prospect of fucking you in the mask as you had seeing him in it.

Tonight, Law had advised he was going to be working until the early hours of the morning in his office. This wasn’t irregular for him, especially as of late. So, you decided to sit on the sofa in his quarters and watch a film, hoping to try and stay awake for his return. The film you chose was not particularly of interest, and your eyes started feeling heavy. Just as you lean your head back on the sofa, you hear footsteps approaching.

Your eyes snap open, suddenly alert. The footsteps are slow, deliberate. Not Law's usual confident stride. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize what's happening.

The door creaks open slowly. You hold your breath, heart pounding. A figure emerges from the shadows, tall and imposing. He still wore his normal attire, the usual black t-shirt and dark jeans, but over his face he wore the white mask. The smooth plastic gleams in the dim light from the TV screen. You also notice what you think is a small black hilt tucked into his waistband.

The footsteps continue slowly in your direction, and you lift your head up to watch his figure approaching. You swallow hard, a mix of fear and arousal flooding your system. "Mr. Ghostface," you whisper, playing along.

He stalks towards you, movements predatory. "You've been a naughty girl, waiting up for me. Don't you know it's dangerous to be alone at night?"

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-” he cuts you off, closing the distance between you. With a sudden change of speed, he straddles you where you sit. His bare hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, but firmly holding you in place. "Shh," he hisses through the mask. "No excuses."

Your breath catches as he presses you against the sofa. Even through his jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from Law's body. His free hand trails down your side, sending shivers through you.

You remain silent, watching as he tilts his head in that eerie Ghostface manner, his curious hand finding purchase on the waist of your silk pyjama shorts.

You whimper softly, torn between playing the scared victim and showing how aroused you already are. "Please," you whisper, not even sure what you're begging for.

He chuckles darkly. "Please what? Please let you go?" You paw at his hand and nod vigorously, and he feels you swallow hard. His fingers now play with the fabric of your waistline, the hand around your throat moving round to the back of your head to grasp your hair. With one swift pull, your neck cranes back as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “Don’t FUCK with me. You’re getting exactly what you asked for. Now be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your breath hitches at his commanding tone, a mix of fear and desire coursing through you. You nod slightly, careful not to move too much with his grip on your hair.

"Good," he purrs, the mask distorting his voice just enough to send chills down your spine. "Now, stand up slowly."

He releases your hair and moves off of you, allowing you to rise. Your legs feel shaky as you comply, standing before him. His golden eyes bore into you through the mask's eyeholes, intense and predatory.

"Strip," he orders, voice low and dangerous. "Slowly."

With trembling fingers, you begin to unbutton your silk pyjama top. You can feel his gaze burning into your skin as you reveal more and more. The top falls to the floor, revealing the black lace bra that you had kept on in anticipation of him making his move tonight. You hesitate at the waistband of your shorts.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls. You pause, wondering what he’d do if you disobey. Apparently you took too long thinking about this, because in one swift motion, Law grabs your arm, spinning you round so that his chest is flush with your back. You feel him manoeuvre to grab something from his person, and just as quickly you feel a cold, hard object placed against the underside of your chin.

“I told you not to fuck about. Now we do things my way.” The cold metal against your skin sends a jolt through your body. You realize it must be the small blade you had noticed earlier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

"Y-yes, Mr. Ghostface," you play into the role, your voice barely above a whisper.

You feel his breath hot against your ear as he speaks, "Good girl. Now, finish what you started."

With shaky hands, you slowly push your shorts down your legs, stepping out of them carefully. The cool air of the room raises goosebumps on your exposed skin. You stand there, clad only in your black lace underwear, hyper-aware of Law's presence behind you.

The blade trails down your neck, across your collarbone, and down between your breasts. It's not enough pressure to cut, but the threat is there, heightening every sensation. Law's chest presses harder into your back, and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. You’re relieved to know that he is enjoying this as much as you.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice husky behind the mask. "Now, on your knees." You comply, carefully turning around and sinking to the floor. The knife follows your movements, never leaving your skin. You can feel Law's presence looming over you, powerful and dominating.

"Hands behind your back," he orders. You comply swiftly, gazing up at the sight before you. Now that you were pretty much level with it, the bulge in his pants was VERY obvious. It looked painful, even. Your lips part in awe, panties absolutely soaked through already. He removed the knife from your plush skin, discarding it onto the sofa, and unzips his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles. He does the same with his boxers, but not before you can notice the significant wet patch across the front of the black fabric. His cock bounced as it was freed from the confines of Law’s pants, and you notice how flush his tip already was. You snap yourself out of the trance you found yourself in, staring and drooling.

"Open wide," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You comply eagerly, parting your lips as he guides his cock towards your mouth. He teases you at first, running the tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum across them. You whimper, and stick your tongue out, desperate to taste him.

Finally, he pushes into your mouth, groaning softly as your warm, wet tongue envelops him. You hollow your cheeks, sucking eagerly as he begins to thrust slowly. His hands tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he hisses through the mask. "Take it all."

You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you gag slightly, but you don't stop. The sounds of your wet, sloppy efforts fill the room, punctuated by Law's low groans.

“That’s a good fucking girl” He breathes, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You adjust to his size, tears streaming down your face, gagging and blubbering as he lolls his head back in pleasure. You can see the fall and rise of his chest quicken, indicating how close he already is.

His breath catches in his throat, and he pulls you off his cock by your hair with a “pop”. He glares back down at you through the mask, chest still heaving. “Such a compliant little slut now, huh? Look at you. Is this what it takes for you to fucking listen?” You moan at his words. Hearing him talk like this, you could feel your pussy clench around nothing. All you wanted was him inside you. With his free hand, he holds your chin, using his thumb to wipe your saliva around your mouth. He places his index and middle finger over your lips, and you start sucking them in. He starts thrusting them across your tongue slowly, pulling your head back with the other hand still attached to your hair.

Suddenly, he shoves his fingers down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. He releases his grip on you, allowing you to catch your breath momentarily, before grabbing you underneath each arm. He pulls you up harshly, spinning you back around and pushing you onto the sofa. On instinct, you get on your knees and arch your back, giving him a perfect view of your ass.

Law's hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You feel the cool plastic of the mask brush against your shoulder as he leans over you, his hot breath tickling your ear.

"Look at you, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat," he growls, voice dripping with lust. "Is this what you wanted all along?"

You nod eagerly, pushing your hips back against him. "Yes, Mr. Ghostface. Please..."

He chuckles darkly, one hand leaving your hip to trail down your spine. "Please what? Use your words, slut."

You whimper, desire clouding your thoughts.

Without warning, he rips your lace panties off, the delicate fabric tearing easily. The cool air hits your dripping core, making you shiver. Law brings his hand down hard on your ass. The sharp sting makes you cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure. "Answer me when I speak to you," he demands.

“P-please fuck me, Law! Please! I need you inside me.” You wail. Another harsh smack reverberates off of your ass and echoes through the room, along with the sounds of you crying out. His hand returns to your neck and pulls you up against him. You turn your head to try and face him.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He snarls. Your face goes as white as the one staring back at you. The few seconds of silence are deafening. The sounds from the TV dull as the room fills with overbearing silence.

“I-I-” you try to start, his grip on your throat getting firmer. More tears start to fall from your cheeks as you gaze up at him through the mask, trying to predict his next move. The pressure on your trachea is starting to overwhelm you, and black spots start to cloud your vision. Before you pass out, he lets go and you fall forward, back onto all fours, gasping for breath.

Without warning, he grabs your hips and thrusts his entire length into you. You both groan in unison from the pleasure, yours slightly more strained. He starts thrusting in and out of you at a harsh pace, the rough grip on your hips already burning. The silence that once veiled the room is replaced with the sound of his balls slapping against you with every thrust, his feral grunts and your rasped moans. He removes once hand from your hip to hook into the side of your mouth while he fucks into you from behind.

“Fuuuuuck baby, you take me so well” he drawls. This is the first time during his pursuit this evening that you can feel your Law shining through, clear as day. The use of one of your many pet names has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your release building up fast.

“M’gonna cum” you strain. The remaining hand on your hip shifts slightly closer to your ass, as you feel his thumb probing at your back entrance, and your orgasm hits you in a wave of pleasure. Back arching even further, mouth agape and drooling, you let out a mix of a moan and a scream. Law watches as you come undone around his cock, feeling you tighten up and watching as your ass clenched around the tip of his thumb, your whole body trembling. The feeling of his own high flooding his senses.

“Thaat’s it, good girl. Gonna cum inside this tight little pussy” He breathes ruggedly, hips faltering to a stop as he releases his load deep inside you. Another drawn out moan expels from you both at the sensation.

Law reaches up and pulls the mask off of his face to help catch his breath, and you turn your head to see his beautiful, fucked out face, forehead drenched in sweat and hair a mess. You can’t help but beam from ear to ear, and he can’t help but smirk back at you. Throwing the mask to the side, he wraps his arms around you from behind and rolls you both onto your sides on the sofa.

You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with sweat. Law's arms hold you close, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing as he catches his breath. The room is quiet now, save for your soft breathing and the muted sounds from the forgotten TV.

After a few moments, Law gently turns you to face him. His golden eyes, no longer hidden behind the mask, search your face with a mix of concern and tenderness. "Are you alright?" he asks softly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his care. "I'm more than alright," you assure him, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. "That was... incredible."

He returns your smile, relief evident in his features. "It was," he agrees, "I have to admit, I enjoyed that more than I expected to."

You examine his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. "I could tell," you tease, running a hand through his damp locks.

He smirks at you again. He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “Next time you come up with one of these mask ideas, can you pick one that has a fucking hole to breathe out of?”

“I don’t know, the heavy breathing adds to the immersion” you giggle. He rolls his eyes playfully in response. You begin to trace the tattoos on his arm idly. He leans in again and slots his lips between yours. It was tender, soft, and epitomised the sappy side of Law that he revealed ever so rarely. He withdrew from your lips and paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating something.

“I missed kissing you, too” he admits, the innocent confession causing even more of a blush to form and his eyes to shift to the side.

“Trafalgar D. Water Law, are you going soft on me?” you tease. Your hand moving to his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t ever change. You are more than I could ever ask for, and far more than I ever deserved.” You brush your thumbs across his cheek. “I love you so much, Law".

You can see his eyes go slightly glossy from the emotional confession. “I love you, too, Y/N.” He tucks another loose strand of hair behind your ear and his face contorts into a smirk. “Now who’s going soft, huh?”

The hand that you were using to caress his face pats his cheek lightly in a faux slap. “Can’t have one sincere moment without one of us being a cynical ass hat, huh?” You retort, grinning.

Slowly sitting up from the sofa and rubbing your (rather sore) neck, you can feel the mixture of your fluids leaking out of you. You both head to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of the evening, getting comfortable underneath the covers, bodies entwined with each other.

——————————————————————————————————

The Next Day

Shachi and Penguin opened the door of their Captain’s quarters, in search of Y/N’s log pose, at her request. They headed straight for the corner of the bedroom where a small makeshift living room space had been fashioned; a simple set-up including a sofa, coffee table and small TV.

Penguin fumbled through stacks of paperwork on the table, while Shachi moved around the pillows on the sofa. Y/N had instructed that her log pose may have fallen off somewhere in that vicinity.

“…holy SHIT” Shachi exclaimed, pulling out three items from betwixt the cushions. Penguin turned around and examined the items in his friends hands: a small knife with a black hilt, a ripped pair of black panties, and a plastic, white Ghostface mask.

“Oh my god” Penguin stared in awe. Shachi was particularly distracted by the panties that he gripped in his fist. “Do you think these are… Y/N’s?” he beamed.

“No, I think they’re the Captain’s... OF COURSE THEY’RE Y/N’S!” Penguin examined the other two items in Shachi’s hand. “Man, they’re into some kinky shit.” His friend nodded in agreeance.

They both continued searching for the log pose, but not before Shachi stuffed his new find into the pocket of his boiler suit.

[noforkingclue]

Regret (Dick Grayson x reader)

Summary: you wanted to do it but unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you looked at it) he was there to stop you

You glared up at Dick as he tightened the bonds behind your back. He gave you a pained look and sat down on the sofa next to you. A thick silence fell between you, unusual for someone as normally talkative as Dick.

“I’m doing this for you.” he said eventually

“Fuck you.”

He winced. Not because of the language. The rest of the Fam used far worse language than that. Even Damian and he was just a child. No, it was the tone. It was a harsh coldness that it was laced with. He sighed and said,

“I know you’re angry-”

“That’s a fucking understatement.”

“-but this isn’t you.”

You paused at Dick’s words and glanced up at him. He glanced down at you before quickly looking away. You weren’t used to seeing him like this. You were so used to seeing him so confident and alive. Not like this…

“You understand why I want to do it,” you said, “he killed my friend. I can’t just… I can’t just… I can’t.”

“I know.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against him. You rested your head on his lap and Dick rested a hand against your head. Usually you’d find this gesture comforting but not today. Not with your hands tied up. While some people might’ve liked this, you certainly didn’t.

“I don’t want you to do something you can’t take back,” he said, “you continue with this there’s no going back.”

“Are you saying that I’ll be just as bad as the rogues in Arkham.”

“Of course not!”

Dick ran a hand over his face as he gave you a pleading look.

“I’m saying you’re not thinking straight.”

You pressed your face against Dick’s leg and he slowly tilted your chin back up to face him. He brushed a tear off your cheek.

“Bruce and I will find them,” he said, “we’ll make sure they end up in Arkham for what they did.”

“Oh yeah,” you said, “the revolving door of Arkham Asylum. They’ll be out in no time Dick.”

Dick sighed and stood up. Your head flopped back against the cushions and you gave him a pleading look. Dick had put on his mask and you could see him slowly slipping into Nightwing.

“Did you have to tie me up?” you asked

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if I didn’t you’d go out there and do something… unwise.”

“Did you have to tie the knots so tightly?”

“Also yes. You’d just escape otherwise.”

As he moved to the window he gave you one last look. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask but you didn’t need to to know what they were saying.

“You’ll be better in the morning,” he said, “you’ll see things more clearly.”

Just before he jumped out of the window you said,

“Maybe Jay is right about some things.”

You regretted it as soon as you said it. Dick’s back stiffened before relaxing. He sighed and shook his head before leaving.

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said it.

Even though you knew it was right.

Fuck.

[l0vem41l]

something's wrong with the morning.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing

author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽｀) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!

"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"

dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.

“gm.”

you sent two letters. and a period at the end.

immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.

you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.

so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?

of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.

but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.

the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.

more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.

there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit

nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.

maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.

or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.

was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?

either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.

later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??

“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”

he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.

before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.

“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”

you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.

“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”

he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.

"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.

he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[chiumii]

Heyy Heard you got writers block can you do all the jjk men (toji especially cuz my man my man my mann) where the reader and them just got into an argument and says goodnight to each other I know this sounds weird but at the end of the day they still love each other lol if u already did this sorrrry!

hi love bug ! i’m sorry this took so long to answer 😭 college is NAWT fun. I did my best i hope that’s okay! 🤍 I did add a little twist into your request I hope that's alright!

broken then fixed ~ husband toji x reader

Toji Fushiguro and you have been married for a few years now, so you know what his job as an assassin is like. You're used to him coming home at odd hours in the morning, if he ever came home at all. He's usually out for weeks, and oftentimes months on a job. Despite his schedule, you agreed to marry him out of pure love the both of you shared. One tough night after coming home from a job that took him a couple months to complete, he seems to be in the worst mood you've seen him in, in a very, very long time. Due to this, you, and more so he, exchange some words that left open wounds on each other's hearts. Will you both be willing to patch up those wounds together, or will you have to do it alone?

word count: 3600 Toji Fushiguro x reader. Angst, yelling, crying, words of hatred, mentions of breaking up, mentions of death, toji very shortly thinks of having sex with you. Fluff. Toji is a bit sweeter than normal bc i love sweet men.

Toji and you have been married for the last five years. Your shared love is indescribably perfect despite his tough work schedule as an assassin. Despite this, your love continues to grow for each other every passing second. Some nights do get tough when you're away from your lover. Crying, glass after glass of wine, hugging his pillow and sleeping on his side of the bed. Other nights, you're just happy you have someone to protect, love, and cherish you the way Toji does. You admire everything about your husband, and the feeling is mutual, he loves you the exact way. 

When he's having a tough day on the job, all he does in order to pick himself back up is imagining the way your face lights up when he comes home. How you will more than likely have a home cooked meal all ready for him on the stove if you know the exact date he finds his way back to you. How your pussy makes him feel when he's inside you. When you're moaning his name as your fingers dig red, bloody trails down his toned back as he stuffs you full, taking his cock so well he could breed you for hours- but that's a different story. 

Although, tonight is different for him. He killed someone he wasn't supposed to kill today, a child. Four, maybe five years old. She was caught up in the midst of a brutal fight between him and his target, causing destruction all around him. And to make a long story short, he did end up killing who he was supposed to, but only to kill a little girl on the way to his goal. Toji seems like the type to not give a shit about something so small, but behind closed doors, he would never kill a child unless it absolutely had to be done. 

He puts up his walls when things like this happen, only for them to be torn down the moment his eyes find yours. That's what he loves most about you- how well you understand him and how forgiving you are. You make him feel safe, valid. He feels as though he can tell you anything, break down any wall, and all you do is listen and hold him as he finally lets down the mask. 

The guilt felt as if he was swallowing handfuls of glass. Sharp and painful as he opens the door to your shared house. The smell of something delicious hits him and it makes his stomach churn. 

He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to come home to the most perfect, beautiful woman on earth who treats him as if he is the most treasured person on the planet. He's angry with himself, and even though he sees you rounding the corner of the kitchen, his mask stays up and his head hangs low as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the hooks in the doorway. 

Your "welcome home my love" is early audible as the little girl's screams echo through his skull, consuming every part of his being. As Toji walks past you and into the living room, completely disregarding your existence. You can now tell that something has undeniably upset him. You don't take his actions to heart, your smile never falters as you turn your body to face him while your eyes follow his moving figure. He brings his hands up to his head as he stressfully runs his fingers through his black hair. 

You take a step towards him and your voice seems to be laced with sweetness as you speak to him.

"Honey, are you okay?" you ask him in the most sweetly filled concern he's ever heard, which breaks his heart even more. His teeth clench as his anger rises. 

Why do you have to be so sweet to me? Im a murderer for fuck sake. His thoughts eat away at him and he knows that if he looks at you, his walls will crack. 

"I can't." Is all he says, not turning around to look at you. Your face contorts to one of confusion at his words, not quite understanding the meaning of his short sentence. 

"Can't what, love?" The pet name you call him makes him want to break everything in the house. 

Make this short, Fushiguro.

"I can't keep this up anymore, y/n." His voice lacks emotion as he refuses to face you. Your heart clenches in your ribcage and suddenly your focus is undivided as your attention circulates onto Toji and Toji alone. 

You understand what he means, because he's talked about it before. Especially when he comes home from a tough job. You've always been able to reassure him, but this time feels different. Even though you understand completely, you still refuse to acknowledge it and play dumb. 

"I don't understand what you mean." You say, your voice never faltering from the sweet tone you speak. A low, gruntful huff escapes his throat as his frustration bubbles up. 

"We can't keep doing this, y/n." You feel as though the room is shrinking in on the both of you. It's suddenly stuffier as your chest begins to get heavier. You don't say anything, and that pisses him off. 

"I put you in danger, I put everyone in danger just by existing. I'm an assassin with an active target on my back." He takes a breath and in one swift motion, his hands fall to his sides, balling his hands into fists. 

"Please don't." your words are just below a whisper, but Toji can hear them. 

Believe me, baby. I don't want to. 

"I can't keep putting you in danger, it's selfish. We need to leave things here and never come back." His words are harsh as they leave his mouth, piercing straight into your heart. 

"Toji please. I don't want that." You speak, his ears ringing with your soft voice and the screams. 

"I do." Short and to the point. You aren't understanding now. He doesn't want you anymore? He doesn't love you? He doesn't care about you? So many things cloud your overthinking mind and everything is going a mile a minute. 

"Please don't. I don't care that you're an assassin, I don't care about your job. I don't care that you think I'm in danger! I know what you're capable of and I know that you protect me. I feel safe with you. Toji please don't, I'm begging you." You're frantic now. You haven't thought about your life without him, all you know is that you love him for who he truly is, and how safe you feel whenever you're in his presence. 

"That's the goddamn problem y/n. You're so blind sighted by how I present myself with you that you don't see the dangers of being with me. You're so caught up in what a happy, square marriage could be that you've gaslighted yourself into believing that you have one. I don't want this anymore, and I don't want you. I don't want what you think we have. I've had enough, y/n." His words send a punch to your gut and a thick crack to your heart, and suddenly it's too hard to breathe as your chest heaves. 

"You think it's easy being away from my own husband for so long? All the nights I've laid awake crying, scared that something will happen to you? How alone I feel for weeks on end?" You pause, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. 

"You wanna know how I get myself through those nights- weeks? It's the thought of you coming home to me. Feeling whole again whenever you're here. The house no longer feeling so big and empty. If we can get through those agonizing times of being apart, I know I can get through anything. All those arguments we've had just like this, we get through because I know I trust you, and I know damn well you feel the exact same." You take a breath before speaking again. 

"I trust you enough to be with you, because I know how dangerous your job is, and I know the sacrifices I have to make in order to be with you, that is why I agreed to marry you. That and the fact that I love you with all I am, Toji." He's silent, and this scares you. Every time an argument like this has happened, the both of you are fighting for each other, but this time is different. He's not fighting, you are. Alone. 

"Are you fucking stupid? How do I have to say it in order to make you understand? I don't care about our marriage, and I don't care about your love or trust. I don't want this. I don't want you. I'm tired of having these pointless conversations because with you, they never end. It's painful, really." Now it's your turn to be silent. A look of pain and regret clouds Toji's face as the words leave his mouth, but he has to land the finishing blow. 

"I don't love you, anymore y/n." 

Your emotions are all over the place. Anger, sadness, confusion. But you can't let him go, not yet. 

"Turn around and say it to my face." Your words are solid and demanding, and it honestly gives Toji chills. 

"I said, turn around and say it to my face, Toji." Your demand is clearer and more intimidating. 

I can't do it. 

He pauses for a minute, gathering himself and adjusting his mask before he turns around to look at you. His face is emotionless and solid. He looks you right in the eyes, his heart shattering in his chest at the sight of warm tears streaming down your perfect face, ruining your pretty mascara and light concealer. 

"I don't love you."

Your arms find their way to cross each other over your stomach, right below your breasts. almost as if you're trying to stop yourself from vomiting at his words. you're silent as he walks to the front door, your eyes staring off into space. He grabs his coat and walks out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him and as soon as he's out of the house, a loud sob erupts from the back of your throat and your breathing picks up the pace. You continue to sob as you walk into the kitchen, turning the stove off in a rushed manner. You pace around the kitchen, whines and cries leave your throat as you attempt to gather any rational thoughts. 

I'm not safe anymore. I won't see him again. Fuck you. Please don't leave me. 

They circulate around your brain and nothing else can calm you down. Your feet stop in their tracks as you see a picture frame on the table. 

Your wedding picture. Toji is holding you in his arms, and you're looking at the camera with the biggest, most genuine smile on your face. But what catches your eye is the look on his face, his eyes holding so much love as he looks directly at you in the picture. Your head starts hurting as your cries are filled with anger and betrayal. You storm over to the picture, pick it up and without even looking at it, you let out a loud grunt as you throw it at the front door. 

"Fuck you" you say to the shattered glass that now litters the floor. You rub your palms down your face and up through your hair, gripping hard as you tug on it. 

"Please don't leave me" you say to yourself and sink down onto the living room floor, your back against the soft couch the two of you picked out while you were furniture shopping before you moved into the place. 

You bring your knees to your chest and cry into your arms. Loudly. 

Words of "please don't leave me alone" and "I don't want you to go" echo off the walls of the house. You cry and cry for hours, begging to the empty house, your headache getting worse and before you know it, you're fast asleep on the floor in front of the couch. 

Little to your knowledge, Toji heard all of your cries and pleas. The longer it continued, the more he started to regret his decision. He wished there was an easier way to protect you, but alas, here you guys were. It was around 4 in the morning and he's still sitting with his back against the front door, trying to get himself to leave. but he just couldn't get himself to leave the woman he's in love with. 

All of the words he spoke were lies. Lies that will haunt him for the rest of his life. You were silent now, hinting to him that you had finally fallen asleep. He sat outside, staring out into the street. 

His thoughts overwhelming. 

He remembered how well he kept your marriage under wraps so that no harm would come your way, and none did. Nothing had ever happened to you in the five years of you guys being married. Nothing had ever happened to you in the 9 years of you being together in general. He was very good at making sure you were safe, but he didn't care. He would rather burn the world to the ground than have anything happen to you.

He remembered a conversation he had with an old friend of his before he had proposed to you, and it made him want to erase the last 6 hours of his life and start over. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to marry her?" He asks. 

"yes I do." 

"I just don't want anything to happen to her, you know?" Toji says with a huff. 

"I understand, yes. But you need to understand that life has an unavoidable expiration date. you never know when you, or someone else is going to die. You have to live to your fullest extent with no regrets. Are you going to regret marrying her, or regret letting her go and risk her being happy with someone else. Would you rather her die with someone else, or with you." He says, making Toji drown with thought.

"What if she dies because of me?" Toji speaks in hushed tones. 

"You know you can't protect everybody, but you're Toji, come on. You don't protect anyone but yourself. Actually, you do the opposite, you kill people, people who need killing that is. You've already decided to keep your marriage hidden, and you chose the best way to do that. You do whatever you think is best, but if I were you, I would marry the one person who truly understands and accepts you for who you are, because you never know when that expiration date will come. Living with the happiness in your life, because you truly can't gain it if you're observing it from afar." 

The thought of a life without you in it makes him not want a life at all. You drive him crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy and he loves it. 

He married you for a reason, your souls are tied, there is no reason to cut that string bounding you two together. 

Toji thinks for a moment, an idea popping into his head as he stands up, brushing his pants off in the process. It's a crazy idea, but he's gonna give it up anyways. 

If he had to choose between the love of his life and continuing his line of work, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

So that's exactly what he does. 

He turns around and opens the front door, immediately finding your passed out figure on the living room carpet. His heart pangs at the thought of you sleeping on the uncomfortable floor. 

He closes the door behind him and locks it. Walking over the broken glass and picture frame, he carefully picks up the photo of the two of you on your wedding day and his eyes start to sting. He gently walks around the broken glass and into the kitchen, propping the picture in the exact same spot, only this time he leans it up against the wall so it's up right. He makes a mental note to go and buy a new picture frame tomorrow and begins to dim the kitchen and living room lights before heading over to your sleeping body. 

He bends down and looks at you. Your face is so calm, he can't believe those loud and broken sobs came from your delicate lips and soft throat. He brushes a strand of hair off your tear stained cheeks and caresses your sweet face with the pad of his thumb, rubbing it over the tear marks streaming down your puffy cheeks. 

He carefully wraps one arm under your back, the other under your knees, picking you up bridal style. He stands up and starts heading into your shared room, kicking the door open gently. 

The sudden change of position stirs you awake, and the first thing you see is Tojis face. Your eyes instantly widen and you are almost convinced you're dreaming, you go to say something but his deep voice vibrates through your body, interrupting you.

"don't say anything baby, let me explain." You close your mouth as he sets you on the perfectly made bed the two of you share. He sits down in front of you and places his hand on your knee, looking directly at you. 

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really didn't mean anything I said. I shouldn't have said any of it actually." you stare at the man before you, not saying anything- you don't know what to say really, so you let him continue. 

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. what I said was completely false and I want to ask you for forgiveness. I don't regret this relationship, and I don't regret ever meeting you." He pauses, looking down at his hands. You feel a familiar sting in the back of your eyes. 

"I want you. I want all of you. Every single aspect of your being is everything I will ever need in this lifetime. I always thought that I would rather die than to let anything hurt you, but it was nobody other than me who did exactly that, and I will spend every second of this life time and the ones after making up for it." Fresh tears run down your cheeks, but your expression is blank. Toji leans closer, moving his hand from your knee, onto the plush of your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb and you don't even think of rejecting his touch. 

"You aren't stupid, nothing you do is anything remotely stupid. You're perfect. Everything you do is perfect. Your trust, your love, hell even the way you walk. You drive me absolutely crazy, y/n. I just-" he pauses, trying to say the right words.

"I thought that leaving would- I thought that leaving was the best available option I had in order to keep you safe, because I really do believe that everywhere I go, there is danger and destruction, and I don't want that to have any sort of effect on you" he takes a breath

"I don't want to imagine a life without you y/n because- because without you, I don't want one" you've never seen him stutter the way he's doing now, and you've never heard his voice break as much, and you can tell he's being serious. 

"Tell me what happened" you blurt out before he can say anything else. Toji stares at you, his jaw clenching and then unclenching. his eyes tore away from yours before he speaks.

"There was a little girl, she had pretty big brown eyes and golden hair. four, maybe five years old. She got in the middle of a fight on accident and before I could stop, I ended up killing her. I can't get her screams of pain out of my head before she dies. I kept imagining that little girl as you. Like if I didn't leave, you would end up the same way she did. or instead of you,,, she was- she was our daughter.." his voice trailed off and your expression softens. the two of you have never spoken of having children, but you've thought about it multiple times before and you never once disregarded the possibility. even thinking about it happening in the future makes you happy. 

"you wanna know how I know that would never happen?" He looks up at you, a single tear littering his cheek. 

"because I know the extent you're willing to go in order to protect me." you lean forward into his warm chest, gripping his shirt so tightly that if your grip were to falter, he would slip through your fingers. you cry into his chest and he strokes your head, pulling you into his lap. 

"shh baby, it's okay" he coos as you cry into him.

"I thought you were actually leaving" you sigh, the tense atmosphere melting away as the feeling of being complete in his arms begins to overflow

"I'm not baby, I'm here to stay. I'm so sorry, never again, I promise you."

You pull away from him and look down at the pair of wedding rings that shine on your fingers. 

"I love you, y/n, and this is where i'm going to stay, right here with you."

[lottielovelace]

technically

(Valeria Garza x Reader)

summary: You're working as KorTac's reserve medic on an assignment in Mexico, leading you to a "nameless" woman.

You don't know her name. You don't know what she's done and who she's killed. All you do know is that she is very dangerous, very powerful, and you're going to have to do surgery on her. In a bikini. No pressure!

Prior context if you haven't read the prior installments: Reader is König's long-lost half sister. Code name Prinzessin (Sinn for short). Recently graduated from Med school. There is more, but it's not relevant to this specific fic so I'll leave it unspoiled in case you end up reading the series. For people who have been following the series, Ghost x Reader is still endgame, but they aren't together yet and I think Reader's life shouldn't solely revolve around him. Plus she's going to go through the wringer later, so let her have some fun now. And in case it's not obvious, since this is in second person and you don't know Valeria's real name, you know her as Bravo-Three for most of this fic.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 2.2k)

Rating: E

Relationships: Valeria Garza x Reader

Ao3 Tags: Improper Medical Procedure / Cunnilingus / Flirting / One Night Stands / (though actually more like a two night stand)

this is a part of a series

Many thanks to @xstanceh3x for beta-ing!

Technically, this was a work trip.

Only technically.

In everything but name, this was a reward. Your reward for graduating with flying colors: a trip to Mexico.

Now, technically, you were a reserve medic for König, Horangi, and their allies. But you weren’t working in the field—not yet at least. Instead of being in the thick of the action, you were nicely holed away in the villa of their contractor. Not half-bad.

Hell, so long as no one got hurt, it was a free vacation.

So of course midway through your pool lounging, your radio crackled with Horangi’s voice.

“Sinn, are you there? Over.”

“Loud and clear. Over”

“Bravo-Three got hit, I’m taking her to you.”

“How bad is it?”

“Stable, but needs immediate care. I could try taking the bullet out myself, but I figure your stitches will leave the smallest scars.”

“I’m not afraid of another cicatriz,” an accented voice drawled out. Bravo-Three. You didn’t know her name—it was redacted from the files assigned to you—but you knew her face. You’d been briefly introduced when you arrived at the house—her house. The files didn’t say it, but your brother privately divulged that she was the one bankrolling this entire operation.

She was beautiful, stunning in a way that kinda made you forget everything for a second (just enough time for her to gut you). She had a quiet confidence to her. If you looked close you noticed that, while lacking the bulk of her male compatriots, her frame was bound with muscle. Not that you’ve been staring at her, of course. 

Horangi made good time. You were barely able to get out your equipment before the elevator dinged.

Shit, you didn’t even have time to change. You hastily slapped on a mask and gloves. A bikini may be impractical, but so long as it was paired with other PPE, it wasn’t the end of the world.

Horangi stumbled in, Bravo-Three leaning on him. He gently deposited her on the sofa. Her forehead was slick with sweat, messing up her normally immaculate hair.

“This is your medic?” Bravo-Three sneered through gritted teeth.

“Graduated top of her class,” Horangi reassured.

You smiled at her, “I would offer my hand, but I think it’s best for the both of us that these gloves remain sterilized.”

Bravo-Three’s eyes traced your attire with an unimpressed eyebrow but an appreciative gaze.

“I see you have proper scrubs on.”

“Well you did catch me a little off guard.”

“You should be better,” Bravo-Three reprimanded. “This is a job, not a vacation.”

Her tone was firm, but she was not being nearly as harsh as she could be. You remembered overhearing her dress down a subordinate last night (something about some “product” being missing, you weren’t sure, you didn’t speak Spanish). It’d been terrifying (and a little exhilarating). Bravo-Three could be very cruel and very scary when she wanted to be. This was neither. Maybe she had a soft spot for you. Or maybe she was just taking pity on you (or the piss).

“If you want me to change, I’ll change. But I would rather treat this wound immediately.”

“Fine,” the woman relented, a shark’s smile emerging on her face. “At least it’s a nice view.”

You couldn’t stop your blush. You know she saw.

She takes the bullet extraction like a champ, barely wincing as the forceps pull the metal out. It lands onto the living room ashtray with what feels like a deafening clatter.

Changing your gloves, you allow yourself to breathe. Step one down.

Antiseptic in hand, you cleaned her wound before beginning to suture. Even though you were scared out of your mind, your hands didn’t shake. You were too well-trained and practiced for that. Still, your anxiety was noticeable.

“You’re nervous,” Bravo-Three all but purred.

“You’re kinda a big deal. I wouldn’t want to screw it up.”

“I already told you, I’m no stranger to scars chula. No matter how big or small it ends up being, it will be in good company. As long as it heals, all is good.”

She pulled the neckline of her tank top down to give you a visual demonstration. You paused your work to look up and scold her for moving, only to be struck dumb by the sight of bare skin.

Tattoos and scars crisscrossed over her tanned skin. She still had her sports bra on—just as clothed as she would be in the gym—but something about this felt incredibly intimate. Maybe it was the way her dark eyes stared into your soul.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

“Just don’t take it out on my brother and Horangi. No matter what happens, pay them in full.”

“Don’t worry, I keep my promises. How did you know, I’m—”

“Your body armor. It’s the good stuff.” A half-truth. You weren’t going to rat on your brother, and her body armor was expensive (your time at the KorTac base taught you that operators had THOUGHTS on armor brands and styles). “Done.”

She looked down at your handiwork.

“Not bad… Princesa, isn’t it?”

Your call sign rolled off her tongue in a way that made you shiver.

“Yes.”

“Nice, very nice.” The woman leant in. She looked even prettier up close. “You know, I don’t like being indebted. I ought to repay you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” your voice was breathless. “Just doing my job.”

“Let me thank you.” Her hand found its way to your waistband. It rested there like a promise. “Would you like me to show my gratitude?”

Want thrummed through you, but your tongue refused to comply—still shellshocked that someone like her would want you. You settled for a nod.

The woman sank to the ground.

You still didn’t know her name. You didn’t know what she’d done and who she’d killed. All you did know was the following three things:

She was dangerous. She was powerful. And she was on her knees for you, wanting to make you feel good.

She parted your legs with one hand, untying your bikini string with the other.

Her touch was gentle but firm. She had a job to do, she knew how to execute it, and she was damn well going to see it through.

You hated to interrupt her but, “Wait, what should I call you?”

“What do you know me as?”

“Bravo-Three.”

“And nothing else?"

“I’ve heard… whispers,” you conceded.

Bravo-Three looked up at you, intrigue now mixed with her lust. “Yes?”

“That you’re known as… the nameless one? I don’t know. I don’t speak Spanish. Either way it doesn’t really roll off the tongue, especially in the heat of… the moment.”

The woman thought about it for a moment, before deciding: “You can call me V.”

“V,” you tested the name on your lips. Clearly another pseudonym, but you didn’t mind that. It was yours to use for, yours alone.

You had only one more request before you surrendered yourself completely.

“V, please don’t tear your stitches.”

----------

She started with soft, little licks. Exploring the way your body reacted. Learning what made your breath hitch and insides clench. She didn’t want to break you, not yet at least.

As she began to get a feel for you and the way you… tick, her movements increased in both speed and confidence. You always prided yourself on being able to keep your mouth shut, but V had this… unpredictability to her that allowed her to pull moans and gasps and other little sounds from you with embarrassing ease.

The noise seemed to embolden her. But you know what they say about cockiness.

She’s skilled. Obviously. Undeniably talented and experienced. But slightly and frustratingly off target.

She’s so damn close to where you need her, but ever so off.

“Harder,” you moaned out.

V’s tongue didn't move. 

But after you add a desperate “Please”, her lips do.

With a jolt you realized that she was smirking. She knew damn well what you needed and was pointedly refusing.

You couldn’t help but let a groan of frustration slip out.

Fine. Guess you have to do it yourself.

You began grinding your hips, rocking her tongue into your cunt, riding her face .

V paused her gloating for a moment, reveling in your movements.

She made a muffled noise. It rumbled against your lips, tantalizing vibrations that only brought you closer to the edge. A laugh, you realized.

Teasing you was fun, but she’d had her fill of it.

Lifting you with ease, she pinned you against the wall—tongue still buried in you. Safely against something sturdy, she started writhing her tongue like a woman crazed. It’s intense, setting every nerve of yours ablaze. Scrambling, practically getting fucked silly, you reach for something— anything to steady yourself. Your hand winds up tangled in V’s beautiful locks, much to her apparent delight.

In the end it’s her canine—not biting, but instead—grazing against your clit that does you in. The shock of cool enamel, the reminder of danger, of the sharp teeth hidden in her plush mouth… your brain went numb.

Your head snapped back and for a second everything was blinding white. For a second you didn’t feel the wall behind you, or V’s grip on your waist, or her arms holding you up. All your body could even comprehend was euphoria.

When you finally came to, it’s to those same goddamn teeth, smiling at you through lips covered in your slick.

----------

You do end up having to redo her stitches. V has enough self control that they remained intact while she went down on you, but when you returned the favor she got… carried away. Arched a little too quickly and they reopened. When you said you wanted her gushing, that wasn’t what you meant.

“It’s a compliment, cariño,“ she reassured as you fixed her up again.

“Yeah, yeah.”

----------

“Well done, the wire transfer should process in two to three business days.”

“That’s good to hear.” Even though your absence perturbed Horangi, the fact that El Sin Nombre was walking around and discussing financial details—relaxed and fully stitched—was a good sign. “How did Sinn do?”

“Nicely. She’s very good with hands. Talented.”

He didn’t like the smug smile plastered on Valeria’s face.

“Where’s she now?”

“Resting. She worked hard. Very hard.”

Horangi thought about it for a moment before deciding, “I don’t need to know the details as long as she’s safe and on the flight home tomorrow.”

Valeria rolled her eyes.

“Yes sir.”

Her words held neither ire nor deference.

----------

You woke up to V’s voice. You groggily opened your eyes to find her on a phone call. Even though she didn’t seem angry with the caller, her voice was sharper than it ever was with you. This was business. Talking in rapid fire Spanish, you didn’t understand a lick of what she was saying—and judging from her ease at discussing such sensitive information with you present, she knew it.

You sat up, eyes still half lidded. At the sight of motion from you, V hung up, redirecting her full attention to you.

“Looks like someone’s a dormilona.” You groaned in response. “There’s some breakfast in the fridge.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You had quite the appetite yesterday.”

“That’s not…” you began to nod off before a gentle nudge from V woke you up once more.

“Come on, I know something that’ll wake you up.”

She ends up leading you downstairs, dressed in her pajamas, still half asleep. You two wind up at a door. V barked something at the guards down the hall. After getting acknowledgement from them, she opened it and flicked on the lights. Blinking away, your eyes adjusted to the brightness revealing a private shooting range.

“What are—”

“I’m not a very popular woman. I have enemies, enemies who’d like to hurt me through any means possible. Even if I never see you again, you’re still in danger. I would like to ensure you can defend yourself.”

“You do care.”

“You have such a pretty face. I’d hate to see it ruined. Can you shoot?”

“Long distance yeah, close range no.”

Her eyebrow leapt.

“How’d that happen?”

“Sniping is a family tradition. Plus the boys aren’t the biggest fan of the idea of me being in close combat.”

“With a chica like you, it’s a matter of when, not if that will happen. You know how to load a gun?”

You demonstrated for her. She tsked.

“Needs to be faster. While you’re fumbling for a round, someone else will have unloaded one into you. But speed only comes with practice, which we have no time for right now. Though when you get home… Anyway, let’s see what you can do.”

You tried your best to get into position. The handgun’s weight felt so unfamiliar, center of gravity completely different.

“This isn’t sniping. You can’t wait for the perfect shot to align. You need to make do. Your enemies already see you. You won’t be giving your position away.”

Her hands made their way to you. One landed on your waist, the other on your shoulder. After she noticed that “Dios you’re stiff,” she let her lips rest in the crook of your neck, accompanied by a simple order: “Relax.”

BANG

Even with noise protection, the gunshot and its recoil were more than enough to wake you up.

“Not bad, cariño. Again. Faster.”

Several rounds later V declared, “I think that’s enough for today. You have a flight to catch. And you should probably shower, I don’t know how your brother would react to you coming home smelling of me.”

You smiled at her from under your eyelashes, “All by my lonesome?”V chuckled, “Eres una chica muy traviesa, ¿lo sabías?”

[randomlyblues]

Yandere!Zane x Librarian!Reader

TW: Kidnapping not beta read

You didn't understand how you ended up in this situation. The High Priest of O'kasis was here at your doorstep demanding information that you don't have.

"I don't take lightly to people who waste my time, so I will ask you again. Where is the information about the Divine Warriors! This can't possibly be all the information that you have!"

"Again Sir, I don't have what you seek! They have burned all the knowledge about them years ago."

You felt a pinch of fear when his eyes widened a little at the tone of your voice that was directed to him. You didn't mean to raise your voice at someone with a high status as you but he was getting on your last nerves not getting the hint that this is all that you can offer him. You have heard stories about how he uses his status of being this 'religious symbol' to cover up his cruel actions and even take part in executing people, if they deserve it or not.

Zane was quite impressed with you. He's lucky that his mask is hiding the grin that was starting to form on his face.

He originally wanted to come to the village library hoping to bump into you. The first time he took notice of you was when he had to wed a pathetic couple. They wanted him to take a days trip just to get them married at a village with the name 'Phoenix Drop', making him stop with is work. That is when he saw you in the crowd speaking with an excuse of a Lord that they call Aphmau. The conversation was lighthearted but nothing worthy for him to pay any mind until you started to mention Lady Irene and how his name was in the mix of the conversation. The way you said his name made him feel a sort of way. Zane found himself wanting to hear it again. He kept a note to himself that you may be valuable to him, drowning the weird feeling he got from his name being spoken.

Later in the evening he caught notice of your snappy attitude and how you tend to be more to yourself yet also spare a kind smile to people. Zane doesn't understand why you have caught his attention, he found himself tracking everything you did. To him you were just a normal pathetic thing with knowledge he can use, yet here he was admiring the power he can see that you hold. He just wants to break it. No not break it. Absorb it. Make it his. Make you his. He wants not only the power of your knowledge but you. So here he was, after the celebration had ended, in your little library admiring the audacity you had to talk to a high being in such a way.

" Of course, my apologies for speaking to a lady in such a rude manner," he bowed to you. You raised your eyebrow at his apologies, you didn't take him as a man that would do that.

"It's nothing," you brushed it off not noticing the way he looked at you as you begin to look for a girdle it can be easier for the man to carry them.

" I am guessing that you will be purchasing instead of returning since you have such a ways trip?"

"Can't spare to give them for free?"

"Will you have my head if I don't?" You said ,not meaning for it to sound appalled by his playful tone. Zane started to laugh at your statement causing you to tense up. Oh this beating heart of his is making you less and less annoying than other people. Oh is he going to have fun with you.

"Why would I do such a thing? That is a sin in the eyes of our dear Matron." You took notice at how his smile reached his eyes when the whole night that never seemed to be the case when other people approached him. Maybe the stories about him aren't true.

"Yeah you're right that was stupid of me to even say"

"Don't worry about it, it was a nice joke. What is your name?" It was a useless question to even ask since he already got his guards to find out for him a few minutes prior in order to find this place. You tell him your name.

" That is such a lovely name."

" Why thank you High Priest," you bow. Oh did he enjoy that. A weak thing like you bowing to him and looking at him like that. What he would do is just for you to look at him with those eyes for all eternity. Yet the way you say his status instead of his actual name caused him to make an unsatisfied face.

"Would you like to accompany me to my ship to help me?"

You took a moment to think about it. It wasn't an unusual request from people so you didn't know why you were so hesitant. It was probably just the tales about him that have stopped you or maybe the fact he has guards that could do that for him. Realizing you have taken a while to reply you tell him yes and follow.

After helping him with the books you tell him about his payment.

"Oh yes of course."

Before you knew it, you were knocked out quickly. Zane looked down at your unconscious state. Oh how pathetic and vulnerable you were, don't worry he would take care of you.

Part 2

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

Turns out that Shinjiro doesn’t have to worry about staying on the sidelines with Yamagishi while the rest of the team puts their necks on the chopping block, after all. Apparently, the chopping block’s decided to come to them.

Ikutsuki is waiting for them on the steps leading into Tartarus, Aigis standing by his side.

Immediately Shinjiro can tell that something isn’t right with her. She doesn’t greet them like she normally would. Hell, she doesn’t even look at them– her eyes are fixed on a point of nothing somewhere behind the group. Her face is blank and empty in a way that makes it shockingly clear that she’s never actually been truly expressionless in all the time he’s known her. It’s like she’s–

Right. Well.

Like she’s a robot.

She reminds them all the time of what she is, but she’s never felt like a machine to him before. She’s never been anything more or less than yet another weirdo in this pack of absolute weirdos. She’s always just been one of them.

“She is simply here to fulfill her role. As a weapon, that is,” Ikutsuki says in that phony, indulgent-uncle tone that Shinjiro’s always hated. He’s never been a fan of the way Ikutsuki talked about Aigis– more like an object than a person– but he never would have expected something like this. Just what the hell did he do to her?!

Ikutsuki lays out the way he played them for complete chumps like he’s explaining one of his shitty jokes. Getting rid of the twelve big Shadows was never going to end the Dark Hour. They hadn’t even been getting rid of the Shadows to start with– just smashing open the jars keeping them contained, setting them free to join back up into something so much worse.

He calls it the Fall, like a fancy title might make the end of the world go down smoother. It was what Kirijo’s grandfather had been after from the beginning.

They hadn’t been cleaning up after his failed plan– they’d been finishing it for him. Kirijo looks absolutely crushed.

Ikutsuki starts popping off about ‘Death the Almighty’ and princes and how he fancies himself to be one, the last of his clownish aw-shucks mask crumbling away. Shinjiro edges forward and sweeps one arm out to gently herd Yamagishi behind him, putting himself between her and whatever Ikutsuki might be planning to throw at them.

He looks manic. He sounds like a goddamn lunatic. Does he seriously believe the crap he’s spouting? Does he really think of himself so high and mighty that he deserves to be the only human left alive? Shinjiro’s always thought the guy was a little cracked, but this is on a whole different level.

“You son of a bitch…” Shinjiro hisses under his breath. What else is he supposed to say? Everything’s gone so wrong so fast. Ikutsuki had every single one of them fooled, even Kirijo. Even her dad.

“I do apologize for deceiving you,” Ikutsuki says, not sounding remotely sorry. He looks so pleased with himself, smiling that easy smile of his. It has a completely different meaning now. “But all your hard work has paved the way for the future.

“Stay at my side for a bit longer, and you, too, will find salvation.”

He’s going to tear this bastard to shreds.

Takeba speaks up before Shinjiro can even take a step forward. She demands answers, something about her father and a video they’d seen. And the scumbag cheerfully admits to doctoring footage of her father’s dying words in order to convince S.E.E.S. and further his own crazy agenda. No wonder everyone believed Ikutsuki’s lies so easily. 

That seems to be the last straw for Kirijo. Honestly, Shinjiro isn’t sure what took her so long to realize that they just need to beat the shit out of this guy. He’ll be more than happy to do it– Ikutsuki’s had this coming for a long time. 

“I was hoping you’d be able to see the light,” Ikutsuki sighs and shakes his head. “But you are just kids, after all. Maybe I set my expectations too high.” He’s still using that condescending tone, like he’s scolding them for roughhousing and breaking a window. Shinjiro’s blood boils. Where does he get off talking down on them all like this?

“Aigis!” She stands at attention as Ikutsuki finally acknowledges her. “It’s time you fulfill your role,” he says. “Capture them, and prepare them for sacrifice!” 

Aigis steps forward. “Understood.”

Her voice is just as flat and scrubbed of emotion as her expression. Did Ikutsuki reprogram her or something? What exactly is his angle here? Aigis is a hell of a fighter, sure, but it’s still one against nine. Does Ikutsuki think they’ll refuse to defend themselves against one of their own? 

Shinjiro knows Aigis probably the least well out of everyone on the team, and even he can say with certainty that she’d rather be put down if it came to that, than for them to let her to hurt them. It’s what Shinjiro would have wanted in that position, too.

“Energy output…at maximum.”

“Aigis?” Yamagishi’s voice shakes slightly. “What’s wrong?”

A thin hum drills into his eardrums. Shinjiro’s heart drops into his gut– he knows that sound. They all do. Light seeps through her chassis as her system overclocks itself and parts inside of her start to glow red-hot. She launches herself skyward.

Orgia Mode.

Whatever Ikutsuki had done to brainwash her, it apparently also means that she can tap into Theurgy without heightened emotions to fuel it– without emotions at all.

Shinjiro’s life flashes before his eyes for the second time. He hefts up his axe to shield against the blast as best he can, closes his eyes, and clenches his teeth in anticipation.

It’s pointless. He’s not surviving this. Not in the state he’s in– still too injured, too weak. He knows how powerful Orgia Mode is. He’s seen what the activation shockwave is capable of– watched more than one group of Shadows get straight-up liquified by the blast. He hasn’t got a chance in hell.

“No!”

Several voices clamor all at once, but Yamagishi’s is closest and clearest from behind him. Tiny, bird-boned Yamagishi, who probably couldn’t survive taking the brunt of Aigis’ attack either. At least he can stand between her and the worst of it. The only other thing he can do is pray that everyone else makes it through this. Just because he’s expendable doesn’t mean the rest of them are.

Aigis comes back down, and everything is swallowed by sound and blue-white light, so bright even through his eyelids that it makes him nauseous. A thunderclap of pure, blunt force rattles him down to his bones.

…

It hurts– which means he isn’t dead. Why isn’t he dead?

Shinjiro risks cracking his eyes open and they immediately snap wide in shock at what he sees. He’s surrounded by glass and delicate metal scrollwork. Rippling patterns of light play over him like he’s standing at the bottom of a pool.

“Yamagishi?” He turns around, gaping. Her hands are clasped tight in front of her and her eyes are huge and frantic.

She’d protected him, summoning Juno who had eaten most of the blast for the two of them. It’s a little weird being on this side of the bubble, and even weirder to be the one someone else is tanking a hit for, but he’ll count his blessings where he can.

“A-Aragaki-senpai– are you okay?” Yamagishi’s voice is so weak and fluttery that he can barely hear it. 

He’s the one who should be asking her that. Her face had been pink from the bite in the air just moments ago but now she’s as white as a ghost, and he’s pretty sure that it isn’t just a trick of the light as it filters through the glass walls around them. It looks like keeping her gaze focused on him is so difficult that her eyes are starting to cross from the effort.

One of her feet skids forward– he’s not even sure if she was actually trying to take a step towards him or just trying not to lose her balance. Either way, she doesn’t have it in her.

Her legs give out. Weak as he is, Shinjiro still catches her with one-armed ease. Her breathing is fluttery and fast but relatively steady– she’s just passed out, thank god. Protecting them from the onslaught had sapped all of her energy.

Shinjiro bites the inside of his cheek. It should have been literally anyone else but him. He mutters his thanks under his breath as he gently lowers her to the ground.

Juno dissolves into seafoam light and the sound of a struggle suddenly rings out, loud in the eerie silence of the Dark Hour. Shinjiro whirls around to a scene of absolute horror.

Kirijo, Takeba, and Amada lay crumpled on the ground right where they’d been standing. Junpei sprawls face-down, his evoker still held loosely in his hand like he’d had time to draw it but his strength had failed him before he could do anything else. Koromaru is nowhere to be seen– where the hell did he end up? Aki is a ragdoll heap at Aigis’ feet. And Aigis–

Aigis holds Arisato up in the air by his collar. Surrounded by the nuclear glow of Orgia Mode, she looks more like an angel of death than someone he recognizes, someone who’s fought by his side. Shinjiro grips his axe tight enough that his knuckles ache. He stands absolutely no chance against her one-on-one, and he knows it. That doesn’t mean he’s going down without a fight.

“Aigis!” He calls out. Her head swivels to look at him but the rest of her stays uncannily motionless. It was bad enough seeing her eyes empty of the soul she’s supposed to have to begin with, but having that hollowed-out stare aimed straight at him– 

Ice water dread slips down his spine.

Without even returning her attention to Arisato, she jams the fingers of her free hand against his solar plexus. He lets out a short, bitten-off scream as little arcs of energy leap over his skin, but Aigis appears completely unconcerned about the pain she’s causing him. He goes limp and she drops him unceremoniously to the ground. With how devoted she is to their leader… It’s more than disturbing.

“Target neutralized. New target acquired.”

“Come on…” he cajoles. Maybe trying to talk sense into her in this situation is an insane thing to do but– he has to try. Being hopelessly outmatched isn’t the only reason Shinjiro doesn’t want to fight her. “Don’t let that asshole control you, Aigis. You’re better than this! You can–”

She raises her arms. The toxic light from the Dark Hour’s moon glints off of ten silver magnum barrels, all aimed at him.

It feels like Shinjiro’s entire body has turned to glass. He can’t move. For a second he can’t even breathe. His pulse is suddenly screaming in his ears and his vision tunnels until all he can see are the guns.

The slimy smile behind the metal gleam.

Rest peacefully.

His side and shoulder throb.

“Hold on, Aigis.”

“Command acknowledged.” 

She lowers one of her arms. It does nothing to dry up the cold sweat running down the back of Shinjiro’s neck. It doesn’t tame the frantic gallop of his heart. 

“Don’t kill him,” Ikutsuki says mildly, like he’s talking about a spider he's got trapped under a cup. 

Shinjiro still can’t move– why can’t he make his body fucking move?! 

“Not just yet. It wouldn’t do to waste a perfectly good offering.”

“Understood.”

That flashbulb whine begins to build again. Aigis bleeds light. Shinjiro’s eyes burn. That unfeeling gaze bores into him.

“Engaging.”

Everything goes dark and silent.spa

[4wkjun]

daddy sim | sjy

Chapter 5: Congratulations. ➥ Contains: angst if you squint, mentions of abortion, crying, swearing. ➥ Word count: 2.9k ➥ Taglist: @animnaim

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June 16th, 2022 Thursday

You and Jake did something quite unusual for the first time in a while: you missed the class. Not that you didn’t want to be absent every once in a while — every student does, especially as the semester comes next to the end —, it’s just that the two of you had so much going on that you couldn’t afford to miss stuff daily.

Jake held your hand as you waited for the doctor to call you inside. You booked an appointment as soon as you could, in the first clinic available you found — that one being almost forty minutes away from your place.

“Your hands are so cold”, Jake said quietly, holding both of your hands between his. “Is it nervousness or just the air conditioner?”

“I don’t know”, you responded with a faint smile. Jake pouted, caressing your hands.

The both of you stayed quiet, not needing to say anything for the next ten minutes.

“Where’s y/n?”, Jay asked confused as he placed his backpack on the empty stool. Chaewon bit her bottom lip, nervous about lying right into his face.

“I don’t know”, she shrugged. “She didn’t answer my texts, maybe she overslept.”

“I hope she’s fine.”

“She probably is”, Chaewon sighed. She really hoped for that.

“Choi y/n?”, the doctor called standing in the hallway.

Your hands got even colder as you and Jake got up, following her almost mechanic voice. The fake sympathy behind the doctor’s and nurse’s tone always made you uncomfortable.

“Please, follow me”, she smiled.

You did, Jake’s hand never leaving yours. The doctor’s office was ridiculously white for your liking, every piece of furniture bright enough for your eyes to burn. Everything about that place made you want to run away.

“Please, take a sit”, the doctor pointed towards the cushioned chairs in front of her glass desk. “I’m Dr. Shin Minju, it’s really nice knowing you.”

“Our pleasure”, you mumbled — the most polite way you could.

“Ok, Choi y/n and...?”

“Sim Jaeyun”, Jake responded. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Good”, Dr. Shin smiled. “How can I help you today?”

You sighed, not expecting the doctor to be that direct.

“I think I might be pregnant”, you said reluctantly. Dr. Shin nodded, writing on her computer.

“Have the two of you performed unprotected sex?”

“No, we always used condoms”, you blushed.

“No other methods along?”

“Nope.”

She only hummed, nodding.

“I’m gonna need you to fill out a form with your medical and family history, use of medication, information about possible travels, and your lifestyle. I need you to be 100% honest.”

“No problem”, you mumbled.

Dr. Shin handed you the clipboard with three sheets of questions. Your eyes got big because you were not expecting anything that detailed during your first appointment — especially because you weren’t 100% sure about the pregnancy with only a pharmacy test. It took you around ten awful minutes of awkward silence to finish the form.

“Everything seems to be normal, except for your unregulated periods, ms. Choi”, she hummed after quickly eyeing the pages. “We’re gonna need a few exams to be sure about your pregnancy, some of them not being as nice as expected.”

“As “not nice”, you mean...”

“A transvaginal ultrasound and some blood drawing.”

You wanted to whine, but instead, you only nodded and tried to look fine. The Dr. didn’t have to know that you were completely scared at that moment.

“I’m gonna need you to relax, ms. Choi”, Dr. Shin muffled behind her mask.

You were lying down on the stretcher, your legs ridiculously far apart from each other for your liking and Jake as a statue right next to your head. His hand was cold against yours — which was unusual, since Jake was always burning hot —, showing you how nervous he truly was.

The Dr. didn’t give you a heads-up before actually starting the exam, making your eyes shut close as she moved the transducer inside of you. That didn’t hurt but was pretty uncomfortable. Jake gave you a peck on the forehead, just to remind you that you were not alone.

“Yup, I do see a gestational sac, ms. Choi”, she muffled. Her tone was happy and you held your tears. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you”, Jake answered. His happy tone made you turn your head towards his direction.

His eyes were fixated on that grayish screen — even though he could not understand what was what —, his smile big. His hand squeezed yours and you noticed his eyes shining as two pearls.

Wait, what?

“We’re still gonna have to perform a few exams and tests just to be sure the both of you are gonna be fine for the next weeks. The most usual way to calculate the gestational age would be by using the date of your last period, however, since that may be a little confusing in your situation, we’re gonna use the size of the sac to have a little bit of a better expectation around your due date.”

“Is the due date the day the baby should be born?”, Jake asked, genuinely curious.

“No, it is the date the mother should be 40 weeks pregnant”, she responded in her mechanic voice, taking shots of the screen. “Ms. Choi, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just... A little shocked”, you admitted.

Dr. Shin nodded, removing the transducer and then her gloves. She waited until the machine printed the tiny ultrasounds and handed them to Jake.

“I’m gonna give you some privacy so you can change into your original clothes again”, she smiled. “I’ll wait for you next door so we can discuss the possibilities.”

“Thank you”, you said with a faint smile.

Jake pecked your cheek before leaving the room with the doctor.

“Ms. Choi, do you have any intentions of keeping this fetus?”, she asked as soon as you sat yourself down next to Jake. Your eyes got big and Jake’s heart felt tight.

“I guess I do”, you responded quietly.

“You guess you do?”, she asked, sharp as a knife. “You know, here in South Korea, abortions are legal. You don’t have to keep the fetus if you don’t want to.”

Jake stayed quiet. You remembered his words last night, where he gave you signals about wanting to keep it. But he didn’t really say the words.

“Do you want to keep it?”, you asked Jake even quieter.

“I do, love”, he almost whispered back. “But we don’t have to. It’s not just about me.”

You sighed and shook your head with a subtle smile.

“We’re gonna keep it”, you told the doctor — you sounded more confident in your head, but that’s ok.

“Sure”, she smiled. “There is no limit for you to terminate the pregnancy, though”, she added. “I just need you to be sure about what you want, ok?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna keep it”, you repeated.

“Has she texted you?”, Yunjin asked Chaewon as they waited in line to buy their food.

“No. You?”

“No”, Yunjin sighed. “I’m worried. Do you think she did something stupid?”

“Not really”, Chaewon sighed as she walked a little closer to the cashier. “Maybe she found a doctor.”

“That fast?”

“Desperate times, I guess.”

Yunjin nodded, pouting. She looked around to make sure your friends weren’t around.

“Do you think she’s gonna keep it?”

“I don’t know”, Chaewon turned around to face Yunjin. She looked worried. “I think she’d only abort it if maybe Jake said he doesn’t want a baby.”

“Do you think he wants a baby?”

“I don’t even think y/n wants a baby.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean “why?”, girl?”, Chaewon laughed without humor. “We’re young and broke. Besides, she told me yesterday she’s afraid of moving way too fast with Jake.”

“We are broke, Jake’s family has money”, Yunjin reminded. Chaewon nodded with a pout.

The line moved again and she placed her tray on top of the counter. The cashier smiled in a fake way as Chaewon handed her a crumpled bill. Yunjin followed her right after, rushing towards Chaewon so they could sit with their friends.

“Let’s talk about something else, huh?”, Chaewon whispered. “They don’t know and they won’t know by us.”

“Sure thing.”

“Babe?”, Jake called as you sat at the bus stop.

“Yeah?”

“Did you tell the doctor you want to keep it because of me?”

Your eyes fixated on the road, your mind running miles.

“No”, you concluded. “I think I want to do this.”

“But... Now? With me?”, Jake asked. You pouted, still not looking at you.

“You don’t want it, do you?”, you asked him with your teary eyes.

“What? Y/n, of course, I want to”, Jake reassured quickly, squatting in front of you. He held your face with his both hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were upset when you found them. “There is a lot in our minds right now, hm? I don’t want you to feel like your life is over because of me, love. If you want to take this step and start a family, I’m all in. If you don’t, I’m still all in. I’d take anything you decide to give me.”

“What if I ruin your life?”

“Not possible.”

“Jake, I mean it”, you whined. The tears won the battle, falling down your cheeks. Jake’s thumbs were fast to catch them.

“So do I. I’m trying my best not to say creepy stuff like “I want to grow old with you” because you only gave me a real chance around a month ago”, he scoffed. “But that’s the truth, y/n. Hopefully, you’re falling for me right now, but I’m a sucker for you for the longest time.”

You threw your hands around Jake’s neck, hugging him close. He almost fell to his knees down the cement floor, surprised by the sudden action.

“I love you, Jake”, you whispered. “I’m not saying it because of this whole mess, I really mean it.”

Jake’s heart suddenly got warmer, filled with love and happiness.

“I love you even more, pretty”, he responded. He smiled, softly pushing you away from his grip. “I promise I’ll try my best to make you the happiest woman alive.”

June 18th, 2022 Saturday

“Hi, you reached Kanemoto Seoyun”, your mom’s robotic voice chanted across the phone. You sighed. Of course, voicemail. “Please tell me how can I help you after the beep.”

“Hey mom, it’s me... Y/n. I need to talk to you, could you please call me as soon as possible?”, you mumbled. “I know you’re having a lot to deal with in Tokyo, but I wouldn’t reach out for you if it wasn’t important, so...”

You sighed. Not knowing how to finish that awkward sentence, you just hang up. You threw yourself onto the couch, shutting your eyes close. It took you two full days to gain courage enough to call your mom, it sucked that she wasn’t available for you at the moment. Jake was at the gym, so thankfully he didn’t watch as you humiliated yourself for a second.

You stopped to think about the last two days. You told Chaewon and Yunjin it was indeed the truth — you were pregnant — and they seemed actually a little excited. You watched as Jake’s world turned into a bright yellow in pure happiness as he kneeled in front of you and kissed your tummy non-stop after a few hours. You realized you were shocked, not fully understanding the meaning of the word “pregnant”. You knew — at least your rational side — that you were creating a whole body inside of yours, a whole new life with expectations, needs, and desires, but your mind wasn’t ready for it. You knew, but it didn’t feel true.

Lots of new concerns ran across your head now. You were worried about what Jake’s family would think of you — Jay said something about them being religious —, you were worried about giving this baby everything your mom never gave you — love and attention being the top two! —, you were worried about not being able to educate a human being, and the worse of it, you were worried Jake was gonna back out anytime soon. You could handle it with him, but never by yourself. You grew up without your father since he passed away in a motorcycle accident when you were three, and honestly, your mother was miserable until she found her new husband — Kanemoto Kyouhei, a real estate agent who recently transferred to Seoul and sadly fell onto your mom’s spell. Poor bastard.

Tired of your thoughts, you wandered around the house doing random chores while Jake was out. You took every dirty piece of clothing out of Jake’s bedroom floor and shoved it inside the washing machine, vacuumed the floors, and did the dishes. You felt so close to the edge, so lost. Gosh, you could use some help.

“Hi, love”, Jake greeted as he entered the house. He threw his phone and keys on the sideboard and put his shoes away, smiling at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, why?”, you asked, rinsing a cup.

“You should probably rest”, Jake shrugged.

“Why?”

“Babe, you’re pregnant”, Jake declared as the most obvious thing on earth. You placed the cup on the dish drainer and looked at him, confused.

“Yeah, but I’m not sick.”

“I read online you won’t be able to sleep well as time goes by”, he explained, walking towards you. He turned you around so you could face him and pecked your lips. “You should enjoy while you can, hm?”

You smiled, shaking your head. It was amazing how Jake’s presence made you comfortable, without a single worry in mind. Before you could answer, Jake squatted down and lifted your shirt, exposing your — still pretty flat — stomach. He gave it the sweetest kiss, caressing the skin right after.

“Hi, baby. This is your daddy, remember me? I talked to you last night”, he whispered. “Your mom pretends to be tough, but she’s fragile. Please, give her an easy time as you grow, ok?”

You caressed his scalp, smiling. Even though your lips were curved up, your eyebrows curved down and tears fell out of your eyes.

“Why am I crying?”, you whined, crying harder.

Jake laughed, getting back up to hug you.

June 19th, 2022 Sunday

“Hi, y/n”, your mother greeted through the phone. You sighed before saying it back. You slowly closed your bedroom’s door, not really wanting Jake to listen while you were on the phone with the woman who gave you life. “I’m sorry for taking so long to return your call, things got hectic around here...”

“That’s fine, mom”, you responded. “I assumed you were busy...”, you said while sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Thank you for being understanding”, your mom sighed — almost sounding truly relieved. “So, how’s everything going?”, she asked. Cut to the chase.

“Things are... Good. Unusual, but good”, you shrugged. Your fingertips started playing around with your sheets and you took a mental note to change them. “Jake and I are together”, you told her.

“Together as...?”

“As a couple, mom.”

“Oh”, she said. And then stayed quiet for almost a minute. “Are you happy?”

“I am”, you said truthfully.

“That’s great, then.”

“Yeah, it is...”, you agreed. “But...”

“But what?”, she cut you off, her voice not as nice by now.

You didn’t answer, incapable of elaborating an answer. The tears showed up again and you opened your mouth to breathe without letting her know you were about to have a breakdown for the nth time.

“Y/n?”

“Mom, I...”, you sighed. The lump in your throat spoke volumes and your mom sighed.

“God, tell me you’re not pregnant, y/n”, she scolded. You let a sob out, confirming her suspicion. “Oh, no.”

“It was an-”

“Of course, it was an accident, are you insane?”, she nearly yelled. Your heart sank because you were not about to say it was an accident. You were gonna tell her it was an unexpected situation, but everything would be just fine. “Are you gonna marry him?”

“What?”, you sobbed, confused. “I don’t know...”

“For Christ’s sake, y/n. Can’t you get enough of your sins?”

“Sins?!”, you whined. “What are you talking about?”

“Gosh, I knew I shouldn’t allow you to live alone with a boy. That’s my fault”, she groaned. You tried to take a deep breath, shaking your head.

“Look, I gotta go. I know you’re not happy with it — and I wasn’t expecting any different —, but I just can’t have this conversation right now.”

And without another word, you hung up and turned your phone off. You silently walked into Jake’s room, only to find him with his glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he looked down to check his students’ last exams. He looked up at you, only to frown in preoccupation as he realized your face was washed out in tears.

“What happened, love?”, he asked, slowly pushing his chair away from his desk. He tapped his thigh and you walked towards him, sitting on his lap. His arms crossed around your body, caressing your lower back.

“I just called my mom”, you muffled against his shoulder.

“I’m assuming she didn’t love the news”, he said — trying to be funny. You nodded. “I’m sorry, babe. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Stay with me”, you responded in a low tone. Jake kissed your shoulder and held you tighter.

“I would never go anywhere without you.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

omg i wrote the other req but i feel like it was kind of a lot and i felt bad 😭 SO if you’re up for it could you do dick grayson x reader with prompt #6 from the list you had in the last one i’m such a sucker for dick taking care of me- ALSO if u don’t do requests just disregard this <3

im so happy when people send request! sadly I think I'm getting into a slump of some kind. so my writing is probably not the best and it's probably not what you had in mind. also I saw your other request and working on it, just gotta kick myself into gear. used prompts from @urfriendlywriter intimacy prompt #6

pair: dick grayson x gn!reader (let me know if I used fem pronouns) wc: 864

masterlist

it was reaching two am in blüdhaven, the streets were still bustling with the noise of honking and people loudly communicating. the billboard lights keeping the city bathed in a vibrant glow, the building lights designed as makeshift stars.

two bodies sat high in the air, legs dangling over the side of an old gothic building. the gentle breeze played with loose hair and sunk into bones through the thick kevlar material. it cooled the blood rushing to your face as you worked on evening out your breath, domino mask staring into the cloudy night.

“ready to end the night?” your male companion's voice cut through the muffled noise. he sat beside you on the ledge, two pairs of feet swinging mindlessly.

you inhaled deeply through your nostrils and exhaled from parted lips. “just give me a few minutes,” your voice almost whispered.

nightwing shuffled his body closer, his outer thigh touching yours. he knocked his foot into yours and you copied in a silent reply. “you okay?” “yeah.”

“what would you be doing if you weren’t a crime fighter? what would your dream life look like?” an abrupt question seeping into your mind and spilling from your chapped lips.

hidden eyes moved away from the night sky to your partner. he was slightly hunched forward with his hands clasped in his lap, midnight black hair falling over his forehead with the tips poking around his eyes. he was biting into his bottom lip with a heavy silence hovering over him.

you weren’t sure what route would be best, backtracking to throw your words away or push forward to see if it would help him feel comfortable. the latter won out, so with nightwing’s tense body and shut mouth you turned back to the sky.

“i think if i didn’t end up here, none of the bad things ruined my life…i’d like to think i’d be living a super boring and normal life.” another glance at your companion, his head now looking at you with a slight crease to his forehead showing that he was raising his brows.

you shrugged, “i know it doesn’t seem like something i would want, but before…everything, i’ve never been in a fight. i kept to myself and followed the rules. kinda wish i could go back to being swallowed by the crowd.” chin tucked to your chest as you picked at the fabric on your thigh.

a beat or two passed. you worried that nightwing would look at you differently, probably think differently with just those few sentences. you were about to speak again when his deep voice caused your mouth to snap shut.

“when i was younger my family was part of a traveling circus. i like to think we’d still be a part of that small family we found with each other.”

your head moved up and you turned to see nightwing already looking at you. there was a faint quirk to his full lips as he said, “but i’m pretty happy where i’m at right now.” 

and you couldn’t help that your mouth parted at his words, the implications as he was staring at you. nightwing pushed himself off the ledge and back onto the rooftop, you twisted to the left as he held a waiting hand out. his middle and ring fingers covered in blue made them stand out against the black.

“time to wrap the night up.” an angelic and smooth tone. his voice caused a shiver to rush up your spine. or the bitter wind. yeah, the wind.

swinging your right leg over to straddle the ledge as you happily took nightwing’s offered hand. his touch was warm and firm as you turned completely and your feet were back on solid ground. you tilted your head up to lock eyes with nightwing’s tall frame, peeks of his forehead showing due to the wind blowing past. he squeezed your hand and you realized neither of you let go. it caused another shiver to run freely.

“hey, you're shivering.” he pointed out and it made your face feel warm thinking he thought it was due to him. which it wasn't…

but nightwing just pulled you in close, his hand released from yours so he could wrap both his long and thick arms over your shoulders. then he started to rub his palms up and down your back, it made you melt and your lids flutter.

slowly and awkwardly you moved your arms into action and held onto the male’s waist tightly, your face pushing into his chest. neither of you said anything, acting like this sort of comfort and actions were part of your regular ‘hangouts’. but neither of you took a step to break away. you felt his chin dig into your scalp, tiny back-and-forth movements, his hands not stopping either.

“this is nice.” confessing just a sliver of your actual thoughts at the moment.

nightwing’s hum buzzed on your crown and then he simply stated, “we should do this more often.” and it lit a fire of wishing in your heart. you nuzzled further into his suit, burrowing into his natural body heat.

a dreamy smile tugged at your lips, “definitely should.”

-

[a1307s]

Take Me From You #3

(Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to Naijarski]

Requested by: ynight14  and RavenMoore7799

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 2,814

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Gets a little heated at the end

———————————————————————

     I can hear the blood beating against the veins in my ears, drowning out the sound of Y/N and Bruce yelling at each other. The scene is almost funny. A hysterical Batman screams at Y/N to not kill as Y/N yells at him for being a murderer. A poor drug dealer sitting between the two screaming adults, confusion and fear on his face. I can feel the laughter brewing in my throat from the scene in front of me.

     Even with the mask covering a good chunk of her face, Y/N is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her. Though she's more filled out than she was when we were fifteen, that only makes her prettier and is expected. She's not going to look the same as she did four years ago. Honestly, she could be in a flour bag, and I would still think she's the most perfect person in the room.

     Despite the funny scene in front of me, my heart races. I haven't seen her in years. I didn't even know if she was still in Gotham, let alone still in contact with Bruce. Given, it doesn't seem like good or willing contact, but it's still contact.

     Y/N's hair bounces around as she yells, making my fingers ache with the want to run them through it. The want to touch her, hold her, and hear her voice is overwhelming. Well, hear her talk to me in a normal tone at least, but I'm happy to hear her in any way, even if she is yelling. At Bruce, of all people.

     "I'm done. I'm done with you, you're helpless!" Bruce yells, throwing his hands up as he parades himself in a little circle. Y/N must have been a big hell-raiser over the years to get a response like that. The bat grabs the drug dealer, dragging him away as he mumbles to himself.

     I watch as Y/N turns on her heels, tilting her head back and forth as she uses her hand as a puppet, mimicking Bruce's meltdown as she walks away. It's good to see that she still has her humor. Good to see that Bruce hasn't managed to get her killed yet either.

     I follow after her, staying hidden as she walks away. I should talk to her, tell her I'm back. Maybe she knows though. I mean Bruce and Dick know so I would assume Y/N and Alfred know too. Though, if Bruce and her are fighting like this all the time I wouldn't be surprised if Bruce 'forgot' to mention my revival. It's a petty move that would be right up his way.

     Y/N turns down an alley, so I wait a second, just in case. The sound of metal scratching concert fills the night. It's quickly replaced by soft clicks of boots against metal. I poke my head around the corner, watching as she climbs up the fire escape. I slide forward, grabbing a hold of the latter before it slides back into place.

     I don't know why I feel the need to stay hidden as I watch her slide open a window and crawl in. Well, I kind of know. I don't know if it's best for me to just pop back into her life. Maybe she has a boyfriend or a husband. Maybe she has a whole family. If she has settled in life, what gives me the right to tear that up?

     I know it's selfish of me to hope her life ended when I died. What kind of shitty person hopes that? Me. I hope for that. Given, I also hope she's had a fulfilling life since my passing, I just hope it wasn't with another man.

     As I climb up the fire exit, ideas of how to kill Y/N's imaginary boyfriend circle my head. Maybe Bruce is right, maybe I am crazy. I try my best to be silent as I follow Y/N's path. Once I'm on her floor level, I push myself against the brick wall, not wanting to startle her. Well, I'm doing it mostly to catch a breather and prepare for the worst.

     It takes a second, but once my courage is built up, I move, looking into her window, only to be met with a gun barrel in my face. "What the fuck Y/N?!" I yell, raising my hands in a sign of surrender. It would be pretty shitty to come back to life just for my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend? - to blow my head off.

     My eyes scan over her maskless face, taking in her bright eyes, her cheekbones, and her lips. God her lips. It might just be the horn-dog in me, but I've missed her kissing me the most. Well... I can think of other parts of her I missed more. Off-topic, very off-topic thoughts. My... Y/N is holding a gun to my face and my identity is still very much hidden in my helmet. I need to stay on topic.

     "Who the fuck are you?" She yells, her finger featherily light on the trigger. Her body shifts some, causing a small clinking sound.

     My eyes drop down to her neck, the direction the sound came from. Wrapped around her neck and resting on her chest is a black chain with two rings strung on it. One is a basic black ring, with a red band through it. Even from here, I can make out the words on it. Curved on the inner side of the band are the words 'Come home to me' with Y/N's name next to it.

     The other band is a copy of the first but with a small ruby held in the middle. 'Be safe for me' is curved into this one, my name next to the wording. It's the first thing I ever bought Y/N. I bought it when we were thirteen, the cheesy words curved into them being enough to back that up. It took three weeks of pickpocketing to afford, but it was worth every penny.

     "Who. The fuck. Are you?" Y/N repeats, empathizing her words more.

     "Um... Jason... Todd..."

     Y/N's face shifts to confusion and then anger. "Last time I checked, Jason Todd is buried in a box in the Gotham Graveyard. So, try again asshole."

     "Bruce buried me in the fucking public graveyard? Didn't even cross his mind to bury me in the Wayne Graveyard? What the fuck?" I say before I can stop myself.

     "What is going on?" Y/N murmurs, shaking her head some as her eyes widen. "Go... go away murderer," she says, pointing the gun down before slamming the window shut.

     Murderer? Like she wasn't just fighting with Bruce over her wanting to murder someone. I stand still, hands still in the air as I watch Y/N march around her apartment, panic-cleaning as she talks to herself. Her head keeps shifting around like she's trying to erase what just happened. Hopefully, this isn't how she would react if a different murderer appeared outside her window.

     Once my head is on straight again, I push the window open, the wood of it yelling in discomfort as it moves. Y/N keeps pacing around, muttering to herself about crazy people and leaving Gotham. I carefully crawl in, making sure not to knock into anything.

     I let myself rest against the windowsill, watching her pace around the small apartment. How has she lived this long if this is her response to a stalker? Maybe I caused her a mental breakdown.

     A small smile rests on my face as I tug off my helmet and set it on the side table placed next to the window. It's littered with loose change and bullets. Good to see she still has a careless air to her. I always found it cute when we were younger. It made me feel needed, knowing she wouldn't pay attention to the small details even if it would make her life easier. I liked doing those things for her, I like her needing me to do those small things, even if it's not things that need to be done.

     I snap my mask off as well, placing it next to my helmet. Y/N continues to mutter and pace, occasionally throwing a phrase or two at me as she works her thoughts out. I look around her space. There's not much of it, which I'm not surprised about. It is an apartment in Gotham after all. Her living space is filled with bookcases, all of them filled to the seams with books and movies. There's a big, overstuffed couch across from a pricey television, probably an apology gift from Bruce. He's good at replacing emotions with money, which is easy to do when you have enough for ten lifetimes.

     Y/N's kitchen is littered with recipe books, loose papers, random dishes, and spices all over the counters. Her fridge is littered with pictures and more papers. Her bathroom and bedroom doors are swung open, unsurprisingly. She sucks at closing doors.

     Just like Y/N's kitchen, her bathroom counters are littered with makeup. Her bedspread is a mess, but besides that, her room is pretty straight and tidy. Even the nightstand by her bed is item less besides a lone alarm clock. That's not usual for her, maybe Y/N does have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who doesn't mind taking care of the small details for her, just like I used to do.

     From here, I can see the edge of a small table, a deep green cloth drooping off of it, that's tucked into a corner of her room. I let my curiosity get the better of me and push myself off the windowsill, making sure to close it behind me or else it'll be left open for the next two to three weeks.

     I walk into the room, expecting a hidden mess, but there's none to be found. I let my gaze settle on the mystery table that's not so much a mystery anymore.

     In the middle of the table is a picture of me. Well, a picture of us. It's from our first date night at the manor. I'm stretched out on the couch, my head in Y/N's lap and her hands tangled in my hair as we both smile at the camera.

     On either side of the picture is a candle; A white one for peace and a pink one for love. Each is held in a gold candle holder. In front of the picture is a few things. One is a bowl of Skittles, my favorite candy. To the left is a small, blue, empty bowl, and to the right is a full, red bowl.

     In the full bowl is the jewelry I use to wear; my dog tags Bruce gave me, the pocket watch I got from Alfred, the matching Robin bracelet from Dick, and my family cross I got from my mother.

     "So... you are alive," Y/N says, pulling my attention from the altar to her, standing in the doorway. She keeps shifting her weight and her fingers tap against the wood. It would only be more obvious that she's nervous if the word was stamped onto her forehead.

     "So, you made me an altar," I tease, trying to help Y/N calm down and loosen up some.

     "Of course, I made you an altar, Jay. You're Hispanic, it's part of your culture. Just because Bruce won't respect it doesn't mean I won't," Her words come out hot and fast, like she's embarrassed that I saw her memorial of me.  "Dumb, stupid, ginger ass, Hispanic boy," she mumbles, walking into the room.

     "Not my fault a Hispanic woman fell in love with an Irish man," I shoot back, watching as she slides onto her bed, her eyes looking everywhere but me.

     "I know," she mutters, lying back on her bed. "So... you must have one hell of a story to tell me."

————————————

     Ever since my lap around the Lazarus pit, it's been weird waking up. Mostly because my body doesn't remember it's alive yet, and partly because my subconscious has the same feeling, which means it takes a second to remember to breathe in the morning.

     Just like every morning, it takes me a second to remember how to breathe along with taking some time to remember I'm not in a box in the ground. I can feel pressure on my chest. It isn't dirt, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Just a PTSD attack. It'll clear up any second now.

     Except, it doesn't clear up. I debate on whether I should open my eyes or not. Sometimes opening my eyes makes the attack worse. I don't want to take that chance. There's nothing on my chest, I'm fine. I repeat the thought as I slide my head over my chest. Instead of coming in contact with myself, my fingers slide into a bundle of hair. Well, that's not dirt but the sure as shit is something or someone on top of me.

     I slowly open my eyes, being met with the sight of Y/N curled up on top of me. I can feel the smile crossing my face as I look down at her. She looks so peaceful, fast asleep, softy breathing as she clings to me. I've missed these peaceful moments with Y/N. Most days memories like these were the only thing keeping me going.

     I shift a bit, peaking at the alarm clock on her nightstand; Five sixteen. I didn't plan on spending the night, but there was a lot to talk about, and a lot of time to make up for. Most of the time was spent with me explaining everything from the past four years, my death, the Lazarus pit, my service in the League of Assassins, my reappearance in Gotham, and the newly forming hatred between Bruce and me.

     I guess we ended up falling asleep on accident, especially since my boots are still on. That, and Y/N is still in her spandex suit.

     I shift again, flexing my arm and fingers to try and shake the static feeling out of the arm Y/N's head is on. Despite my efforts to not wake her, Y/N stirs, shifting around on top of me. She whines a bit, her body scooting down my body as she moves. It feels nice having her weight on me, feeling her body heat crashing into me. "Good morning," I whisper, rubbing my hand through her hair.

     "Good morning," She whispers back, pressing a sloppy kiss into my chest. It's sweet, but I wish my shirt was off, I wish I could feel her lips against my bare skin. "You're alive," she adds, sleep still very evident in her voice.

     "I'm alive," I repeat, wrapping my free hand around her back. I pull her up my body, her legs squeezing my sides as her head tucks into my neck. I struggle with being alive again, a lot. It's hard dealing with Bruce. It was hard being in debt to Ra's Al Ghul. Despite that all, in this very moment, it's so worth being alive.

     I flip us over, Y/N's hold still strong on me as I do so. I prop myself up with my knee, not wanting to crush her under me. "I missed you so much," I murmur, sliding my hands under her shirt, the spandex clinging to both of us now.

     "I missed you too," Y/N answers, sliding her hands into my hair, her fingers twirling the strands around themselves. I push her shirt up, laying kisses across the newly exposed skin. It's been so long since I've seen her, smelt her, touched her. After four long years of nothing but my thoughts of her, I can finally play out all my fantasies. I mean, there's no better way to start the day than with a bang.

     Soft mewls fall from her, only encouraging me more. If I had my way, I would keep her locked away in this apartment. Just her and me, and my longing for her. Nothing but her begging for me and me answering her every beck and call.

     "Y/N?" I hum against the skin of her stomach. She tugs softly on my hair, letting me know she's listening. "We're going to stay right here, all week. Maybe even two weeks."

     "I... I can't. I have work."

     "Not anymore. You're not leaving this apartment until we play out every last thought I've had of you. All four years' worth." Her legs tighten around me, an easy sign of her getting needy, an easy sign of me getting my way. I smirk to myself, dipping my hands down to her thighs. "After all, making you feel good is the least I could do after letting Bruce take me from you." Y/N lets out a breathy moan, letting me know I won.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[bestworstcase]

@tumblingxelian tag from here

#OK I'd legit love to hear your take on her interactions with Oscar

oh i think about the interrogation scene a normal amount

something i want to underline before diving in is the conspicuous discrepancy between the eloquence and spoken delivery of salem's soliloquies in V1/V3 (internal monologue) versus her dialogue (verbal speech). it's especially noticeable in juxtaposition with ozma's V7 soliloquy versus ozpin's dialogue, where no such discrepancy exists; oz talks the way he thinks, he's an excellent orator and even in casual conversation he's well-spoken and charismatic.

whereas salem... thinks eloquently and often poetically ("nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness..." or "it's true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary..."), but speaks with minimal rhetorical flair. her speech is also sometimes a little stilted or just very, very deliberate in a way that does not sound natural; and there's times—her conversation with cinder in V5 is a particularly noticeable example—where what she says circles around what she means.

"working with bandits? keeping ruby alive? what's the point? we're strong enough to take what we want by force!" / "never underestimate the usefulness of others; take leonardo. he was one of ozpin's most trusted, but now... hm. you will have the power i promised you when the time is right, but remember that it comes with a cost. if ruby rose has learned to harness her gift, you must take care to protect yours. there's only so much i can do to aid you."

<- its like. instead of just saying it, salem says examples supporting the idea she's trying to articulate. if a conversation were a math problem, salem shows all of her work but doesn't give the answer. and she does this A LOT.

none of the other characters in the story are like this—which means it isn't, like, a problem with the writers failing to write cogent dialogue. it's a deliberate character choice for salem specifically.

anyway, prior to the interrogation scene, salem only appears in contexts where she is either addressing her subordinates or—in V7—giving ironwood the terms of her siege. on two of these occasions, she get interrupted with unexpected new information (ozpin is back, ruby rose used the lamp) and in both cases, salem abruptly ends the conversation and either kicks everyone else out (V6) or leaves (V7).

and i think that's worth noting in relation to this scene, because the interrogation veers off script very fast and we get to see salem, um, Trying Her Best.

so!

as far as salem knows, oscar is gone. she expects—prepares for—a hostile and painful confrontation with ozma. when oscar wakes up, she's huddled against a pillar in a shadowy corner with an arm curled around herself and her head low, staring fixedly at conjured shadows of her dead children. she is Not Okay.

but when she speaks, her tone is conversational. almost cordial, once she's past the withering sarcasm in "my long lost ozma... found at last." it's affected! it's not real! she's reciting words she planned and probably rehearsed beforehand—which i think is likely the case for most of her little speeches. she's a poor speaker.

except... it's oscar. salem twigs that he isn't ozma the instant he talks, stares at him for a couple seconds without no visible reaction except that her mocking little smile fades, and:

snarls and grabs his face and yanks him down to get a better look at him—the mask just shatters. there's lots of ways to interpret this, but i'm inclined to take it as salem recognizing that this isn't ozma and then second-guessing that instinct and grabbing him because she needs to be absolutely sure.

"you can pretend, boy... but you're not fully him. not yet, at least." her tone shifts on every clause, from almost a growl to relieved to just sort of resigned. and then she drops him, exhales, steps back:

and just... stands there gazing into the middle distance for a couple seconds. like—oscar being here was not a possibility she even considered until it happened and upon finding herself in this situation her reaction is basically, "...um."

and then she's like

well... :)

perhaps you and i can have a better working reLaTiOnShiP.

...

...

oscar, >:[

was it? :\

laying aside the dire understatement of referring to what happened between her and ozma as a bad "working relationship," you can like. hear. the crash box crashing in her head as she says this. her tone swings from sweet and gentle to sardonic to coldly indifferent—and then she follows this by swerving right back into cordial neutrality. hrgkhsj her affect just goes haywire

and i think that happens because this is just so far out of expected bounds that she can't figure out how to say what she needs to say to get herself back on track. her speech smooths out again as soon as she segues into her questions, because she knows what she planned to ask ozma and she can tailor that to oscar instead.

but getting there? dial-up noises.

the hysterical part though is that it's really obvious this awkward verbal jumble isn't indicative of internal confusion or uncertainty, in that salem knows what she's going to do—her chosen tactics are clear and entirely coherent. she:

calms herself down and backs off.

states her intention to play nice if he cooperates.

both implicitly and explicitly differentiates him from ozma to indicate she understands he's his own person and can and will set her rage and bitterness with ozma aside to treat oscar fairly.

which is precisely what i meant in the OP, about salem having the necessary grasp of human nature to be—in theory—a formidable manipulator but lacking the social dexterity and charisma required to put it into effective practice. like, tactically this line of attack is very shrewd, but her awkward, erratic delivery cuts the legs out from under it because she sounds utterly insincere.

⭐️ she tried.

continuing on—salem first explains the context regarding what she needs to know about "the beacon relic" (sidebar, does... salem even know what it is? this is the only one she refers to this way. the lamp, the staff, the sword, and "the beacon relic"), all in a fairly amicable tone except for:

"if i know my ozma" <- she's implicitly positioning herself and oscar on the same 'side' against ozma. this follows from her deliberate rhetorical separation of oscar from ozma and also the basis of her strategy in coaxing this information out of oscar. the reason she's taking the time for this little prologue is not to help oscar understand why she captured him necessarily. she's (trying to) set out the rules of the game she is playing. trying to, because she's doing her showing-her-work-but-not-giving-the-answer thing again.

here's what she means:

"perhaps you and i can have a better working relationship. oscar, was it?" -> i can work with you because i know you're not him. "if i know my ozma, he has used some means of deception to hide [the relic's] location differently from the others." -> ozma lies. i despise him for lying to me. i expect you to prove to me that you're not like him in this specific way. "i need to know where it is." -> i want an honest answer.

salem knows he isn't going to tell her where ozma hid the relic, if oscar even knows that information; she doesn't expect or even want him to tell her that yet, necessarily. rather, this is a test. she wants to see if oscar will try to deceive her.

"that's not something i know about." he passes.

immediately, salem rewards him for being honest. "of course." she removes her hand from the hound's shoulder and moves away.

"he would keep that one guarded as long as possible." she also takes the opportunity to reinforce that she sees oscar as a separate individual and insinuates that ozma is actively keeping secrets from both of them.

and again, this is a cunning approach because:

oscar is scared and uncomfortable. he quite clearly anticipates that salem is going to get angry and hurt him as he says he doesn't know the answer. so when she accepts "i don't know" without hesitation and physically moves out of his personal space, it creates these feelings of surprise and relief.

that emotional reaction is the key to salem's strategy here. first she tells oscar that she will be reasonable if he cooperates, then she clarifies her expectations ("don't lie.") she asks a question knowing full well that he either can't or won't answer it. he says "i don't know" and braces for retaliation, but instead salem goes "okay" and turns down the heat. she's demonstrating through her actions that she's going to play fair.

"how about something easier, then? the password for the lamp."

she doesn't expect him to tell her this one either. not yet. it's another test that builds from the first. she's established that "i don't know" is a safe answer (as long as it's true). what salem's fishing for him to say now is "i'm not going to tell you that."

why? when she walked away, she left oscar hanging from the hound's jaws. salem lowered the heat—she didn't turn it all the way off. the point of all this is to teach oscar how to play her game, and the last rule he needs to know is that "i won't say" is also a safe answer. had he given her that answer, the hound would have set him down and withdrawn to lay down in the entryway.

only then would the game truly begin. the idea is to draw oscar into something like a real conversation and gradually get him comfortable saying things like "i don't know" and "i won't answer that question" by cultivating trust. once that rapport exists, it becomes really easy to turn the discussion around by asking oscar why? why not take the risk of trusting her with this or that information? after all, she's been nothing but polite and reasonable. does he truly still believe she's the evil monster ozma made her out to be? she gave him the benefit of the doubt... can't he do the same for her?

salem wins by convincing him she's a person he can negotiate with. that pulling this off would be the ultimate fuck-you to ozma only makes it more satisfying.

of course, that's not what actually happens. (partly because salem talked a circle about the "don't lie" rule and oscar—who hasn't spent the last four volumes seeing that his woman yells and flips tables when she's lied to—didn't pick up the hint.) instead, he tries to deceive her again and salem lashes out.

<- the physical violence gets all the attention from the fandom, and i do understand why, it's nasty and protracted and made to be viscerally unpleasant to watch, but. it's only a placeholder, something salem does while she considers what she's going to do—and say—to hurt him in a way that will never heal.

ok.

salem gets that oscar isn't ozma, didn't ask to become him, and feels desperate to retain his own identity distinct and separate from for as long as possible. she knows how ozma's reincarnation works, what this curse does to his hosts. it's not hard to figure out that it is a horrifying, traumatizing ordeal for the souls he's "paired" with. this is why she makes such a particular point of differentiating between oscar and ozma.

"the lies come out of you so easily." ("if i know my ozma, he has used some means of deception...")

why does she caress his face like this? to make him remember her like ozma does. "like-minded souls, indeed." you can pretend, boy, but so much of you is him that you remember even this.

the torture is just the preshow. this is the cruelest, most devastating thing she could possibly do to him, and salem knows it. she gave him a pass on pretending to be ozma, and he threw the second chance back in her face by lying to her again; she's furious and upset and she wants to HURT him.

this is how porous the boundaries between you and him have become. this is how close you are to being him. this is how little of you there is left to lose. like-minded souls, indeed.

like.

she does this to fuck with his head and it horrifies him so much that oscar spends the remainder of this arc actively choosing to endure being hazel's literal punching bag rather than let ozma take over or try to escape using ozma's magic. in 8.6:

OZMA: I’d like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours. His grudge is with me. OSCAR: No, it’ll be even worse. He’s holding back with me, I can tell. OZMA: I understand. I do. But you’ve done so much already. The least I can do is give you a break and try to get us out of here. OSCAR: We can’t leave yet.

they go back and forth, oscar proposes trying to flip hazel, ozma agrees it's worth a try. when hazel comes in, ozpin goes "oscar, please"—and because oscar doesn't respond, it's ambiguous whether he gives ozma control or if ozma shunts him aside again as he did at haven academy.

either way, the next we see of oscar after the interrogation scene is ozma entreating oscar to let him take over and oscar going no no no, that'll make it worse, no i don't need a break, i've got a plan, no no we have to stay here. and while his reasoning is cogent... this is a fifteen year old boy who's spent the whole day getting beaten up by a guy three times his size, and he actively wants to stay and be tortured more rather than let ozma front for a while.

and then in 8.9:

OZMA: I think this plan to divide may have run its course. It’s time we start thinking about a way out; not having our cane certainly limits our options, so… OSCAR: No! I don’t like what happens when we use magic. Every time we use it, I can feel us merging faster. I'm not ready for that.

the deeper truth gets spoken aloud.

this is not a new thing with oscar—his emotional core has always been existential dread—but framing it in this way, set against hours and hours of brutal torture that oscar insists is the less bad option, represents a massive spike in the intensity of his horror.

because salem Did That.

anyway the interrogation scene is great. 10/10.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

I’ll always have your back // Six-Eared Macaque x reader

"Oh-ho-ho! Look what we have here!" The shadow demon said and smiled at you upon seeing you turn up at the edge of the woods where he often could be found since it was quiet but spacious. You bittersweetly smiled and nodded, sitting down on a torn-down tree trunk before fiddling with your finger. “Hi, could I ask you for some advice?” He hesitates for a second, trying to thoughtfully read you and then Macaque sighs, folding his arms like you're some kind of child. 

But you can see inside he’s not annoyed but concerned at your sullen mood compared to your normal happy go lucky self. “Yeah...what do you want?” You sighed and took a deep breath, wiping awaying the tears building up in your eyes and pushing out a breath.

“My entire friend group lied to me and stabbed me in the back.” Everything went silent for a minute and you felt your throat tighten but continued on, “So I’m trying to find a new friend while my old ones ignore me and play the victim while saying mean things.” Fisting your hands into the fabric of your pants and tensing your muscles in anger, the tone of your voice growing in irritation and hurt that anyone could pick up.  

“Saying my anxiety and illness “traumatized” them. I don't know what to do. All I feel is anger and hate.” Macaque nods in sympathy and looks you in the eyes. The conflicting emotions in his irises are clear as day if you know where to look. "Sounds rough, kid. That kind of betrayal is hurtful.” Both of you know he has experience when he keeps people close to them. It hasn't ended well, evident by his scarred blind eye and physically healed marks covered up by magic. 

“It's hard to trust people when you get hurt like that." He says, putting a hand on your shoulder and trying to comfort you despite the subject being completely foreign to him. Moving closer to you and wrapping his tail awkwardly around your wrist to try and ground you. "All you can do is find people that deserve your trust. People that respect you. People you know you can count on."

“Thanks Macaque. That means a lot.” A genuine and kind smile appeared on your face, grateful there was someone on your side after your shit week. "No problem, kid! Just focus on those good people in your life. Don't waste your energy on trash." He smiles, giving your shoulder a pat and chuckling. You could tell he meant it and leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling him tense at first then slowly relaxed once he got used to the weight. A little part of your heart fluttered when he wrapped his other hand around your hips and leaned his head against yours. "You just keep on being you, and you'll find your way out of this mess."

“I hope I will. Guess I’ll just have to keep looking up” Macaque shook his head and got up, quickly shifting himself to seem not affected by the physical touch. The sun had set a while ago so it was pretty dark but the lights from the outskirts of town lit up enough to see clearly. "You seem like a pretty bright kid. You'll be alright." He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets. "If you ever need some advice, you know where to find me." He says it in a way that makes it seem like he has better things to do, but he's willing to put that aside for your sake. 

It’s been that way since you got close, the shadow demon keeping up the mask he always wore and you being able to mostly see through it but not bringing it up. He seemed okay most of the time although on occasion you could tell that something was going on inside his head and asking him wasn’t the best course. The last time you tried to get him to open up wasn’t the best, you and Macaque had a yelling match about being open about your feelings with it ending with him shouting, “You can’t trust anyone!”

It was a week of silence until you found him at his dojo and apologized for triggering his trauma, after an hour of talking calmly you both set boundaries and spoke about trust.  You could see the same look on his face now, something plaguing his mind and the carefree facade that nothing was wrong. “Macaque, how are you?”

"Eh, I've been better." He shrugs. "Just trying to do the whole 'mentor' thing." He chuckles, shaking his head. He looks like he's trying to make light of the situation, but you can tell he's upset about something based on his facial expression. He looks away, his face scrunched up slightly. His voice becomes a little distant. "Anyway, you take care of yourself, okay?" He says, smiling. It seems like he might be holding something back despite the conversations you’ve both had time and time again. 

“You wanna talk about or vent? I have a good amount of experience being a mentor or er- teacher so I could offer some advice if you want it?” You didn’t want to push it, if he didn’t want to talk then you’d respect it and do the best you could to be there for him like he had for you just minutes ago. “No pressure though, just want to make sure you're doing alright. It’s not good to keep everything bottled up, talking it out could help..” Moving to the side and patting the space beside you, inviting him to sit.

You notice him hesitate for a moment, but after some thought, he nods. "Yeah, you know what? I think I need to talk about this." He sits on a nearby bench, sighing. There was noticeable tension in his shoulders and you placed your hand over his as a silent confirmation. "It's fine if you don't want to hear about it, but I think I just need to get this off my chest." Part of you panicked that you had said or done something wrong, vigorously shaking your head ‘no’.

“No, it's alright. I'm happy to listen! I won't judge, I get the feeling too.” He takes a deep breath, looking around for a moment before settling his gaze. Most likely to be sure no one else was there beside you besides the two of you. "My... my father or rather the one who raised me was a bad man." He says softly, looking into the distance, at the moon rising with the stars. There's a sad look on his face, but he takes a deep breath and continues. 

"He was cold and demanding. Always demanding, always wanting... more. Nothing was ever enough for him." He's becoming visibly more and more upset. Macaque was trembling, reliving memories from his past and wishing he could go back and do something. Anything. "Everything I did was always wrong to him." His voice becomes harsher, angry. "I wasn't good enough for him."

You continue to listen, letting him vent his emotions and be vulnerable. Tightening the grip on his hand and looking at his face, red mask on his fur framing his angry irritated golden irises and seeing them flash purple. “I'm sorry that happened. Macaque, you're amazing and deserve to be praised. You’ve helped so many people, me, MK, Bai He, and this whole city!”

He's quiet for a moment, letting those words sink in. His six ears fluttering out in the open if only for a split second before going back to two. You can see a shocked and flustered expression take over his face for a second before shifting to one of genuine thankfulness. "I... I was never praised, growing up... I learned to live without it... Thank you." He smiles, looking at you. 

A bittersweet smile forming on his face and looking back at the ground, laughing more cruelly than happily. "Do you have any idea what it's like to work your whole life to please someone, giving up everything you want for them, just to be told 'You could try harder'?" There's a glint of tears in his eyes. A wall of emotion being held back despite pounding away to be let loose after centuries of being suppressed.  

“I do.” Something pulls at your heart, like someone rubbing salt in an open wound, hearing his past and your own being pushed to the forefront of your mind. Tears prick your own eyes and you allow them to fall, wetting my cheeks and dripping into the dirt “All my life I was told I was a mistake and to try harder despite doing my damn hardest to succeed. I know how you feel all too well. It hurts and to hear it come from the person you need to hear it from the most is heartbreaking.” You wipe tears that are falling down my cheeks and trying to quiet the sobs escaping your lips. 

Macaque moves closer to you, giving you a hug. He just holds you tight for a moment, silently offering his shoulder to your grief. After a moment though, he speaks. He sounds broken at first, but his voice grows stronger as he speaks. "No one deserves that." He says, frowning. He puts a hand on your shoulder. "You hear me? No one should ever have to go through that."

You accept the hug and tightly embrace him, the warmth from both of you keeping the cold wind at bay. “You don't deserve it either. It sucks that we both had to go through that awful experience but I'm so grateful to have you in my life.” I pull back from the hug a bit and smile bittersweetly at him, looking over his expression. His face contorts into a kind smile, his eyes brightening a bit as he looks at you. "It's... it's not fair. The people who should be the one to show us love and affection, the people who should be the ones to offer a safe space in this wild world... They end up hurting us the worst." 

He sighs, shaking his head. "But at least we're not alone in it anymore..." “That's true,” You laugh, a bit broken but it’s heartfelt. “and I'm so glad I'm not alone. You're a great friend Macaque, you know that?”

"Aw, come on now..." He's blushing, laughing a little bit as he blushes. "All this to make me blush, huh?" He smiles, putting a hand on your shoulder. "You're a pretty great friend yourself, y'know? I'm not the most... social type, but I could sure as hell use the company more often." He laughs a bit. "I'm glad I have you in my life, Name."

You smiled and laughed along with him, playfully punching his shoulder. ““I'm only speaking the truth and besides you deserve every bit of it. There's no one I'd rather have by my side and I'm not that social either. I much prefer to stay in the quiet and dark places or be alone with my music.” 

He smiles softly, chuckling a bit and nudges you back. Macaque raised his hand and flicked in the direction of an abandoned brick building, shadows of figures of two people interacting with others and then separately facing away from the other. "Well, you and I, we're a pair then, aren't we? Always in the darkness, just a tad more gloomy than most?" He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. Both people on the wall slip into a building only to see each other and go to speak simultaneously causing the other to laugh before disappearing altogether. "You never had to deal with a sunny disposition, huh?" He tries to tease you, a smile on his face. Clearly referring to Sun Wukong and intrigued to hear your answer. 

“I guess we are, hm.” You chuckle to yourself and look at the full moon giving light to the open clearing at the edge of the wood. “Someone I'm close to is the embodiment of the sun and they're very optimistic and have a bright personality. I'm definitely more of a night person, I tend to get along with moon-personality-like people but I can bare some sunny personalities.” You can recall how you met one of your best friends, one of the only people who stood by your side when shit hit the fan, when you reposted something from your favorite band and got a DM from them making a comment about your steller choice in music. 

The shadow demon raised an eyebrow, you’ve never really opened up much but in your defense he’s never asked many questions. "So someone close to you, huh? Who, exactly is that?" He asks, a mocking, teasing edge to his voice. Half of him wants to ask if they’re closer to you than him but his pride would never allow it. Not to mention your response. “It's someone you don't know, trust me, but they're pretty cool.”You rolled your eyes and attempted to change the subject but of course once Macaque got curious about something he’d never drop it. 

"Aw, come on, why be so secretive about it?" He asks, laughing. His voice is teasing, but there's genuine curiosity behind his words. "They sound like they're pretty damn important to you, that's awesome. I'm glad you have someone in your life like that!"

You laugh in response to his tail brushing against your neck and playfully bat his hands away from tickling you any further. “Fine, fine. I know you're not going to stop pushing it. Wow, you really like drama, don't you? Their name is Phoenix and they're kinda the opposite of me but I like them.”

A sly, mischievous smirk appears on his face. "Yeah? Tell me more about this Pheonix. They sound pretty, well... bright." Macaque chuckles, making a pun about their personality and their name. He sits back proudly, like he just made a great joke.

You struggle to hold back your laughter but fail. Catching the victorious smile on his face when he got you to laugh. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. They fit their name and have my back, always teasing me about this one person I have a crush on.” You trailed off and looked away from him as a blush spread across your cheeks and soft nervous laughter came out.

Macaque leans forward again, smiling. "And who exactly is this crush of yours?" His face breaks out with excitement. "I won't tell a soul... I promise." He promises with a smile and a wink. He gives you playful nudge, a teasing look on his face and knowing you could trust him. "This is your best friend, right? They must really be something special. Not many people can keep you smiling like this." He chuckles, growing closer and flicking the tip of your nose lightly.

Your blush darkens and you sputter, “I don't have a crush on Phoenix but the person I'm crushing on is someone you know but that's all you're getting out of me.” Avoiding eye contact and rolling your eyes at his teasing, trying your best to not give any reactions that would aid to your to your downfall.

His smirk turns to a grin, even wider as his expression seems to say 'I KNOW WHO'. He raises an eyebrow, his voice turning into a mocking, sing-songy tone. “Oh, do I, now?!” He looks at you with a playful look in his eye, mocking you and disappearing into a portal beneath him. “Come on. Give me a hint~…” He's clearly teasing you. His voice is echoing around you and suddenly hangs in front of you from a tree, swaying back and forth. His tone is playful, but his face holds a serious expression. He's clearly really curious to know. 

He gives you more playful nudges, his eyebrow still raised and awaiting an answer. “Alright. Fine, it's someone you know and they're a demon. Very dramatic and has quite a knack for performing.” Shyly looking at the city and smiling, you have a loving but serious look as you recall memories of him. How you first met him and how much of a disaster it was, the chaos of the city being destroyed and running into each other. “He can be very competitive and playful.” 

Macaque’s face lights up, and he gives you an encouraging wink. "Well... he sounds like a really cool guy. I'm sure you two are a perfect match." He chuckles, his voice is filled with excitement now. You still can’t tell if he knows that it's him or he’s just being himself, either way it makes your stomach do flips. "Sounds like you really like him, huh? If you're so excited about it that you're blushing?" He smiles, giving you another small nudge. He's not trying to tease you now, he's just genuinely happy for you, and a bit excited to see who the mysterious man is, at least you think. "Does he know how you feel about him?"

“No but I really love him. I don't know if he feels the same way but he's very observant so I wouldn't be surprised if he knew.” Involuntarily tensing up at the thought of him rejecting you right here and laughing it off. Macaque wouldn’t do that you know, at least not that harshly but it was still a fear of yours. “Should I tell him?” A soft but genuine grin on your face as you looked at him hesitantly and timidly asking for help. 

"Oh, definitely tell him!" He says, excitedly pumping his fist in the air. "You only get so many chances for love." His tone becomes slightly more serious now, his face becoming serious as well. His eyes are looking at you sternly, but his voice remains kind. "You don't want to let this chance slip by, Name. These kinds of chances for real love don't come up very often in life, so when they do, you gotta take 'em. So, don't you think you should go for it?" As someone who had lived for centuries, he often saw many people who were too scared to confess their feelings and succumb to fear without ever telling their beloved.

You laugh at his actions and smile sweetly, internally gathering the courage to say what you wanted to say.  “I guess so. You only live once after all... Well…” The other could clearly see you were nervous but you took a deep breath. Eventually looking at him, a very embarrassed expression evident on your face and nervously smiling.  “I.. I love you Macaque.” You anxiously waited for a reaction but couldn’t help but feel very excited, however all of your efforts are genuine and clearly heartfelt.

He's completely stunned by your confession, his eyes wide in a look of disbelief and surprise. After a moment though, he gathers himself, a wide smile of utter joy coming to his face. He nods feverishly. His eyes are full of tears, and he's speechless with emotion. He pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing you tightly against him. "I..." He sniffles, unable to find any words, just looking at you with an expression that says absolutely everything. It's clear he wants to say something else, but he's too emotional to get the words out.

You're fully shocked that you weren't rejected at first and laughed with a wide smile, jumping into his arms. “I fully didn't expect this but.... I-” You both were speechless and neither could put into words how happy you both were. “Wow. Damn you're pretty. Can- can I kiss you?” You didn’t even realize he had spoken your thoughts aloud until his face turned beet red, and he blushed profusely. However he nods, still smiling brightly. 

"Y- yes! Please do..." He gives you no time to respond, leaning in himself with a soft smile on his face. After a moment though, he pulls away. His eyes are filled with love as he looks at you, his eyes darting between your lips and your eyes. "You're just so... beautiful." His voice is full of wonder and passion as he looks at you, his heart practically overflowing with joy. "You've got me all flustered."

“Me?” You laugh and try to stop blushing so heavily. How is he more flustered than you when his teasing keeps you up at night rethinking everything he’s said? “You're the one who's been flustering the hell out of me since I started talking to you but screw it-” You lean forward and cup his face, kissing him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Breath heavy as you broke apart, “Gods you're beyond gorgeous. You don't know how long I've wanted to do this!”

He giggles, leaning into the kiss. As you kiss him, a warm, bright, almost blinding light surrounds the both of you. It's a beautiful light, like the warm embrace of the sun on a warm summer day. He chuckles. "You're really sweet ya know that?" He looks at you with a small smirk. "I think this marks the start of a beautiful new chapter in both of our lives, huh? How does 'boyfriend and girlfriend' sound to you?" He kisses you once more, a gentle, soft kiss.

The touch of his soft and smooth clothing lulled you into a calm mood. You lean into his neck and hum contently with wisps of silky black fur. “That sounds amazing but I much prefer the term significant other or lover.” Giggling and kissing him sweetly, nuzzling your face into his neck and placing small pecks on his shoulder.  

"Lover sounds great." He smirks, kissing you passionately, his warm breath in your face. He gently holds you close to him, his voice soft and sweet like honey when he talks. "What do you say?" He asks, his voice filled with love and affection. He's genuinely a little emotional, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest. His eyes glisten with love in the soft light. He pulls back for a short moment, smiling at you. He gently brushes at your hair, taking in every detail of you. "So... official?"

“Yes please!” You do the same, tracing the marking on his face and trailing your fingers along his jaw. Happily cupping his head and weaving your fingers into hair. His face lights up with joy, his expression filled with a kind of excitement that can only be felt when you've found true love. "Oh, I'm so happy..." Macaque kissed you again, unable to hold back his excitement. After a moment though, he pulls back, his face still filled with a soft, bright smile. "So, lover, what do ya say you and I have a little date tonight and celebrate?" His excitement seems infectious, filling the air with a genuine joy and love. You can feel your demon’s genuine emotions and lean your forehead against his. Smiling so brightly and failing to hold in laughter. 

You nod rapidly and stim happily, still in disbelief that person or celestial primate is your boyfriend. “I haven't felt this happy in years! I'd be honored to have a date with my boyfriend! What did you have in mind?” Smirking at him and teasingly leaning closer and closer. His face is filled with pure joy, the smile on his face growing as you seem to mimic his own excitement. Even when you tease you, his soft smile doesn't leave his face. You can feel his happiness like a warm hug. He giggles along with you, his eyes sparkling. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "What would you like to do?" He asks coyly, leaning in close. "Anything you say lover!" He smirks, playing along. You can practically feel his love for you. That smile is not going anywhere.

“I'm happy to do anything you want to. Although I prefer it to be something not too loud” Quickly, you press a kiss to his cheek and nose. He chuckles, his smile spreading as you kiss his cheek and nose. The soft glow seems to dimly shine around both of you, your love and companionship a beautiful sight. "Well how about this. I cook you a nice dinner, then we stay in for the night?" 

He suggests a small smirk on his face. He seems genuinely happy just at the idea of spending the night with you, a gentle warmth filling his eyes as the smile spreads across his face. "How about it, love?" *He whispers seductively, his tone gentle and kind. “That sounds amazing.” Whispering in the same tone and leaning deeper into his hold, “I wouldn't have it either way, darling. Let's go, this is not how I expected the day to end but I'm beyond ecstatic.” You close your eyes and lay your head against his chest, peacefully enjoying the warmth coming from him.

Macaque chuckles softly, his voice now a whisper. A soft, warm feeling comes over him as he holds you close. He rubs your shoulder delicately, the joy on his face matching the one in his voice. "I can't wait." He whispers, kissing you softly on the forehead. He smiles softly, closing his eyes and holding you close. His voice is soft and tender, the quiet joy he feels inside him radiates around the two of you. His voice matches the warmth of his body and his heart. You can feel the love.

“Then let's go as much as I want to stay in your arms, I'd prefer to be more affectionate in private” He chuckles softly, giving you yet another kiss on the forehead, a soft smile coming to his lips. His eyes flutter open, and he nods earnestly, holding you close to him. "Alright. Let's go, then." He stands up, lifting you up into a bridal carry. He turns and heads back towards his apartment, his face filled with a smile so bright you can see it even in the dark. He hums a soft tune to himself, as he carries you through the night. His step is light, and his demeanor is joyful with almost palpable energy. He seems to be a bit embarrassed and flustered, yet still has a bit of that smugness from earlier that day. He chuckles. His voice is soft and he smiles. His eyes gaze into yours lovingly, you feel warm inside, like the comforting light of a beautiful sunset, and your heart fills with love for him. Your boyfriend. It feels... right.

[nrwynter]

I haven't done one of these in forever! I think the last one I did was... four years ago? I thought it would be fun to make one again with my improved art skills and show the work that was put into this piece.

The final piece was one of three idea prompts I submitted for the zine. I was already sketching out thumbnails while I was waiting for approval, but I did draw for one of the rejected prompts as well. (Unfortunately I don't have access to them at this time but I'll add at a later date).

Once the weapon prompt was approved, I got started on a rough sketch. (The sketches were drawn cleaner than what I would normally do to make sure it was readable haha). The toughest part of the piece was its composition. Scattering the weapons was hard because I needed to make sure everything looked balanced and focus was placed on the master sword.

What ended up working for me was I managed to grab as many weapon models from the game as I could find, threw them into Blender, and arranged them until it looked good. A bonus of doing this was having good references for both the piece and the individual weapons themselves (which came in handy when I had to draw some of the detailing). The models were also size accurate so that helped a ton too. I did have to upscale the smaller weapons so they'd be more visible on the cover.

Some of the weapon placement was deliberate, others were put there to fill in space or for another reason. The majority of the characters wielded some variation of a sword so I sprinkled in different weapons and other things to break up the repetition. That includes stuff like the Fierce Deity Mask and Toon Zelda's helmet. The more sillier weapons like Tingle's balloon and King Daphnes' sail were placed in the back so they wouldn't clash too much with the other weapons.

I'll talk about some of the more of the symbolic stuff further down the post.

I also drew an alternative version of this piece with Link being in the center instead of the master sword.

Fun fact: at one point I did consider including Ganon since he's technically playable, but realized he doesn't have a weapon. This would have meant I would also had to include the big Cucco from the cucco mode so neither were ever conceptualized.

I intentionally left the art's tone ambiguous just in case the mod team had something in mind. I did picture it having a dawn color scheme though, and the mods wanted the cover to have a peaceful/hopeful vibe so that worked out. I did however add some sunset choices in my color concepts for more options. The four I made also had sepia versions to fit with the aesthetics of the game.

8 was the one the mods chose. However, I did end up slightly adding 6's colors into it to make the sky pop. This ended up being the finalized color concept.

(It looks a little fuzzy because I ended up layering 8 and 6 on top of each other and I didn't position them correctly fghj).

When I do illustrations I start with the background first so I can use its colors for the foreground and midground. I normally don't draw clouds this big and up close so I had to be pretty delicate with how I rendered it. I'm glad I only had to do one side and just duplicate it to the other. Also I made the oranges in the sky and clouds subdued.

After the background was done, I tried rendering the ground and it was a disaster. This was early on in the rendering phase, but what was meant to be dirt started to look like sand. I tried to see if adding textures would help but it made the problem worse. I ended up taking a break from the ground and moved on to the weapons.

Next was the most grueling part of the piece: linearting. I am not kidding when I say doing the lineart took three whole days. I was also juggling with my other illustration I was working on for the zine so the timeline ended up stretching to a week. I'm a detail-oriented person and stuff like this isn't usually that bad for me but this one was pretty rough. The sweat and tears paid off, I think!

After lineart was done, I went back to render the ground again. It was becoming more polished and included more small rock formations, but the dirt-looking-like-sand bit wasn't improved. I opted to add grass instead since that would be easier to render. That was probably the right call because I think that helped with the desired tone for the cover.

I flipped-flopped between working on the grass and the weapons. This screenshot was when I had added the shading, textures, and some highlights. Oh, and I slightly tweaked the sky a bit.

With the grass and rendering done comes my favorite part: color editing. Started throwing overlays, soft lights, what have you on everything and used color balance to level out the colors. Also added light reflection on the ground for some of the weapons.

Something was missing from the illustration and I had no idea what it was. A friend had suggested particle effects and that did the trick! Everything was set and done and I submitted my illustration. When I saw the cover with the title for the first time, I noticed that the illustration was made a bit brighter than what I originally had (likely so the title stuck out better). I actually really liked that change and edited my own copy of my illustration accordingly.

With that said, now I want to talk about some of the more subtle details in this piece. You guys probably noticed these already, but I want to talk about them anyway! I mentioned deliberate weapon placements some ways up so let me go over that first.

Ghirahim's sword, Zelda's rapier, and the master sword are placed in sort of a triangular way meant to represent the triforce (although I think I messed up on the distance between them). I originally wanted Ganondorf's swords being in Ghirahim's spot but I was worried about contrast issues with the swords' darker color scheme and battling attention away from the master sword. I think the idea still works considering Ghirahim is Demise's sword (and Demise is like the Ganondorf of that game). Though Ganondorf's current placement can be viewed as him being a looming threat, for Hyrule Warriors and other Zelda titles.

I have Lana's tome and Cia's scepter close together to symbolize them being two sides of the same coin. Toon Link and Toon Zelda's were placed on opposite sides of the piece but slightly facing each other. Toon Link's and Tetra's are also diagonal from each other, both also representing a type of connection to each other. It's a similar deal with both forms of Midna's weapons as well as Yuga and Ravio. Speaking of Ravio, his weapon is the only one partially buried, sort of peaking over at the master sword to reflect his cowardice natureand being Link's Lorule opposite (at least the Link from a Linked Between Worlds). A similar idea with Fi is that she is somewhat of a silhouette behind the master sword to reflect her growth in Skyward Sword. (I know technically Fi is represented twice here, but her "weapon" in Hyrule Warriors is a different blade so that's why).

Like I said before not all weapons have symbolic placements like this, but a number of them do.

One more weapon detail I wanted to point out is on the master sword. I had this planned from the very beginning but I intentionally draped Link's scarf over the master sword so that the triforce of courage on the blade is the only one visible. I also intentionally highlighted the engraving to make it more prominent.

In the background, the sky is shaped in a way to resemble the Hyrulean royal crest. With the gap in between the clouds looking like the wings, the Master sword acting as the body, and the three visible stars as the triforce (but I messed that up slightly). Only thing I didn't include was the feet of the crest. It's not an exact 1-to-1, but here's an outline for a better visual:

On the topic of stars, there are 29 in total to represent all 29 characters. The brightest star above the master sword is meant to represent Link, but the other 28 are scattered around. Some are more visible than others so it may be hard to spot them all, but they're there.

Saving this last detail because it doesn't really have anything to do with Zelda and more to do with my art. I have always wanted to do this with my work for a while but haven't implemented it until now so I wanted to bring it attention.

From now on, all of my illustrations will have a hidden little angler fish blended into the scenery. I got the inspiration from Adventure Time's snail that appears in almost every episode incorporated somewhere and thought I could do something similar with my art. I'll show you guys where I placed this one, but you'll have to find the next ones on your own.

Not the clearest, but I promise in the future it'll be better drawn (and in case you're wondering, yes there are also little anglerfish in the other zine illustration too!). I just thought this would be a fun way people can interact with my art (and also act as an additional signature).

And that's it! If you have read all of my rambles, thank you!