#one link is heavier than your entire body

[mochrincrunch]

ships (boats) are body horror and their intimacy with the ocean instills in me great unease

[nanaslutt]

so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.

now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…

i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist

Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.

So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.

If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.

“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.

“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.

“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.

“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.

“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.

“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,

He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.

The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.

You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.

His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.

When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.

The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.

Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.

His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.

You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.

The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.

Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.

Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.

You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.

Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.

“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.

“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.

Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.

You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.

“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.

This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.

He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.

His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.

“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.

You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.

You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.

“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.

“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.

He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.

He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.

“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.

“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.

Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.

Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.

“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.

“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.

“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.

“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.

Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.

By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.

He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.

“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.

He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.

“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.

“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.

You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.

“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.

“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.

“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.

“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.

Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.

You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,

He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.

When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.

When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.

His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.

He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.

“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.

“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.

After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.

He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.

“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.

“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.

You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.

He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.

“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.

“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.

“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.

“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,

“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,

“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.

“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.

You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…

[sailoryooons]

Obsidian | Preface | Red (myg)

☾ Summary: You've never been able to forget a face. Neither has Min Yoongi. And you both remember the face of the man who ruined your lives.

☾ Word Count: 1,046

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: Dead Dove. Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and death, graphic depictions of blood and dismemberment, depiction of stab wounds and being stabbed, feeling of death/on the cusp of death, reference to Yoongi negatively being referred to as a momma's boy, one (1) poisoned and dead fish, death of parents.

☾ A/N: Hi, I am so nervous to be writing this series again and re-doing what I feel like I got wrong the first time. I hope you like the new and what I think is improved version. This preface is much of the same as it's original predecessor, but with a little more consistency in the voice I will use for the rest of the story telling and a little heavier on the experience Yoongi is having. Additionally, the magic system in his has been tweaked from the original, but you will see that in later chapters and as always, I will include the Jewel Caste at the bottom of each chapter.

☾ A/N 2: If you were on the tag list for the original fic and you would like to be removed, please don't hesitate to let me know. I will be going off the same tag list request form I have used the past year, which might include users no longer interested in this story. Please don't worry about messaging me if you want to be removed or alternatively select the removal option on the tag list request form linked below the disclaimer.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Tag List Requests ☾ Series Masterlist ☾ Next Chapter

Min Yoongi dies the same day as his favorite koi fish. 

When he opens the door to his home, the world is awash in red. Red on the tile, red on the carpet. Red on half of his mother’s face - the other half can’t be red because it’s missing. Her jewels are missing too, none of the normal sapphires that glitter on her fingers and ears in their rightful place. 

Red weeps from the ceiling, red spills under the table. Red soaks through Yoongi’s  socks as he stands in the kitchen. He’d left his shoes by the doorway like his mother always asked him, and now they’re red red red. 

At the center of all of that red is his father, head missing. No - maybe not missing. Yoongi’s eyes keep scanning the tableau of crimson until he sees the head of Min Yujun a little ways from his body. Not missing, but not in the right place.  Lights out. No one home. 

Yoongi’s eyes go to his father's hand - he has to look on the other side of the room from his father’s head to do it - looking for the jewels that should be on his fingers. Yujun always has his onyx rings on, perfect gems set into gold bands. Onyx rings, onyx necklaces, onyx bracelets. 

There’s no onyx here. Just more red, dripping from the blunt edge of fingertips recently cut too short. Yoongi diverts his eyes. Seeing the ringless hands of his father is worse than looking at the severed head, the perversity of it turning his stomach. 

Yoongi never hears the man behind him. Doesn’t see it coming until he’s slammed from behind, a wall of radiant energy knocking him forward toward his father’s body - not the head. Yoongi screams as he hits the floor - can’t help it. He rears back, pushing away from the jeweless body, but his hands slip in all that red.

His stomach roils but there’s little time to think as he rolls to the side. He summons the power in the onyx rings on his fingers, feels the vibration as they recognize his call, ready to fight back.

He stops entirely when he sees the face hovering above him, immediately dropping the summoning of his radiant energy. He’s so shocked to see Kim Juwon leaning over him that at first, he doesn’t feel the knife carving out his stomach. 

Yoongi opens his mouth to ask for help finding his dad’s rings, but he’s interrupted by the soft way Juwon says, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi thinks Yujun means about his parents, maybe. But then white hot pain blooms in his stomach and Yoongi screams, looking down to see the knife pulling down, opening him up. Red red red red. More red. So much red that Yoongi didn’t know he had that much red inside of him. 

Juwon pulls the onyx rings from Yoongi’s fingers. Yoongi tries to pull his hands away from the elder, crying as he tries to keep the red inside. It’s spilling out of him faster than he can keep up with, his panic mounting as Juwon pulls the onyx stones from Yoongi’s ears. Juwon does it gently, as though he’s afraid to hurt Yoongi. Like he doesn’t want to spill more red. 

Yoongi thinks he cries out for his mom. At least he forms the words, and tries to beg for her help. His dad doesn’t have a head to yell at him to stop being a momma's boy, so Yoongi screams for her. Wants her to wake up and crawl over to him and hold him together. To stop the red. 

He’s never been afraid of dying until right now. 

He doesn’t remember Juwon leaving him there, bleeding out and toeing the veil, ready to join his parents on the other side. Yoongi thinks he sees them, thinks he hears them calling to him. But there’s a stronger call, a vibration that pulls at him. That begins to itch. A frequency he can’t let go of. 

Yoongi feels it more than he sees it and he starts slipping across the floor to where a single ring has rolled under the fridge. Juwon wouldn’t have noticed - couldn’t have noticed. Juwon radiates at onyx, never obsidian. 

No one but Min Yujun radiates at obsidian. Or used to. 

But now the obsidian calls to Yoongi and he slides toward it, hand pressed to his stomach, trying to stop the red. His hands are wet and sticky and he gags, feeling something slippery when he presses too hard on the wound. 

The obsidian ring pulses, an invisible force under the fridge. Yoongi slides his hand under, gritting his teeth at the tight fit as he reach reach reaches. Just a little to the left. Almost. Almost. His fingers make contact with the ring and energy explodes through him. 

Yoongi lets out a guttural sound, somewhere between a yell and a gurgle as he lies on the floor, thinking it might be too late. But as the power surges through him, vibrating at a higher frequency than Yoongi has ever known, he realizes his father has left him a single parting gift. 

There on the kitchen floor, Yoongi radiates at obsidian for the first time. Feels his body stitch itself back together, itchy and hot and bothersome. When he’s done, he lays on the floor, sobbing up at the ceiling and trembling, sick and corroded by the powerful gem. 

Hours or minutes pass, he isn’t sure. But when he gets up and sees his home painted red, he decides that Min Yoongi must die here too. 

Sliding the ring on his finger, he stands. He is dripping in more red than he’s ever known, but there is black on his finger, the darkest jewel on the caste and the most dangerous power to wield.

Stepping out of the red-filled home and into the night, he takes a deep breath. Sees his favorite fish turned over in the koi pond, bloated with poison. That fish had been given to him by his mother as a birthday gift, a symbol of perseverance and strength. 

So he takes the name of his favorite fish and walks into the world born anew, leaving the ghost of Min Yoongi behind as Agust takes his place. 

THE JEWEL CASTE

*IN ORDER FROM TOP TO BOTTOM THEN LEFT TO RIGHT OF POWER.

Lights

Opal → Selenite → Diamond  Rose Quartz → Morganite → Kunzite

Mids

Jade → Peridot → Flourite  Jasper → Spinel → Ruby

Darks

Turquoise → Azurite → Sapphire Tourmaline → Jet → Onyx

Corrosives

Emerald → Garnet  → Midnight → Obsidian

TAG LIST:

@astroodledream @myynameisbuckyy @idkjustlovingbts @hobibbb

@codeinebelle @rinkud

[spikedfearn]

You Keep on Sayin’ You in Love Tho, So Tell Me, Are You Really Down? (Yeah)

One-shot

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: you and Bjorn shotgun during your ascent in the hauler—and then some.

a/n: 📣 100 follower special 📣 I've been wanting to write a shotgunning fic since I first saw bjorn smoke that spliff in one toke, it was ridiculously hot and I just had to be totally normal about it in the theater. this is a reimagining of the escape from jackson's star so the character dialogue/actions will not be movie accurate. title from the song "self-care" by mac miller.

warnings: established relationship, recreational drug use, shotgunning, PDA, making out, dry humping, oral (receiving) possessive behavior, you're that couple

wc: 3.1k

The low rumble of the metal grate beneath your feet as the Corbelan ascends leaves you feeling momentarily weightless, like you're floating before gravity pulls you down, feeling heavier than usual.

You’re strapped in, anchored by a sturdy crossed seatbelt that comes down over your shoulders and buckles in next to the opposite hip, white knuckling the lip of the seat on either side of your thighs, eyes closed tight as you hold your breath.

It feels surreal, your heart thumping hard against your rib cage, knowing you all just pulled off the biggest heist in Jackson Star’s history, stealing highly-regulated equipment to leave behind a shitty life of indentured servitude.

It's something you've all discussed at length for months, Tyler being the one to initially suggest the idea while you were all drinking late one night, mapping out an escape route in yours and Bjorn's shared trailer, sitting on his lap with his legs spread wide, arms loosely circled around your waist.

Still—you can't believe it actually worked, breaking into the hauler and getting it up off the ground without any hiccups, half expecting sirens to soon blare throughout the endlessly dark sky or for the engine to stall, it just feels easy. Too easy.

You feel Bjorn’s hand on your leg then, taking notice of your growing anxiety, always able to pick up on any shifts in your mood, no matter how subtle, not when it comes to you.

Running his thumb along the inseam of your dark-washed jeans, he squeezes your thigh afterwards out of reassurance. It helps, even if only just a little, your palm finding its way into his, weaving your fingers together between you, a fair bit calmer now that you're holding your boyfriend's hand, roughed up and calloused from mining.

He's always been able to read you, ever since you were little, knowing exactly what you needed when you needed it, sometimes even before you did, causing your progressively growing affection for him to flourish into something else entirely, something beautiful, until you were crushing hard and just couldn't bury it anymore, no matter how hard you tried.

Luckily the feeling was mutual because after your drunk little confession, the only two still awake and drinking, sitting in the cramped living room of his trailer away from where the others were passed out, you hooked up on his futon, sweating out years of romantic and sexual tension that had built and built and built between you until it finally came to a head.

Everyone was happy for you both as soon as they woke the next morning to you wearing Bjorn's loose tee from the night before and a pair of clean boxers, arms linked and swinging down between your bodies, going shy when Navarro sighed, “fuck—finally,” and Tyler coming up to squeeze Bjorn’s shoulders from behind, telling him, “see? Told ya’ she wuz’ just as inta ya,’ mate.”

That was three years ago and you've been dating ever since, completely mad for each other as Bjorn liked to put it, which you think sums it up quite nicely.

You complimented one another, able to make up for whatever deficiency the other was lacking in. You were the only one that could truly calm him, talk him down from the proverbial edge when his anger started to boil over in response to whatever bullshit life threw at him. Reminding him that you were in this together for the long haul, which always did the trick, watching the way he'd soften in your hold and silently nod, looking just as vulnerable on the outside as he felt on the inside.

And he was the only one that could truly get you to relax when you were stressed out, like a hydraulic press trying to crush you under the weight of your own problems. Reminding you not be so serious all the time, to enjoy the little things, like right at that moment, when he'd be spooning you in bed at the end of every night, drawing miscellaneous patterns over your midriff with one hand while he combs his fingers on the other through your hair, still damp with sweat after a passionate round or two.

It wasn't perfect but it was yours, and that was enough for both of you.

The hauler Navarro’s piloting hits a rough patch of turbulence as it cuts up through the polluted cloud cover, Bjorn withdrawing his hand from yours to unbuckle himself and stand, unsteady on his feet, forcing him to hold onto one of the steel bars to ground himself there.

He plucks a rolled up joint from the front pocket of his dark gray drop shoulder hoodie and lights it with one of his shitty zippo's, the confined oxygen combined with the freighter's acceleration causing the flame to shoot up high and wide, nearly singeing his eyebrows off. The others laugh at his accidental little joint trick, including you, watching him proudly nod his head around at everyone when he manages to keep all his hair.

It smokes fast, faster than he was expecting, his eyes rounding in surprise as the paper burns all the way down to the roach in just seconds, cheeks swollen with a sudden mouthful of smoke, thin milky tendrils slipping past the seam of his lips.

Then Bjorn leans down and cradles your face between his hands before capturing your lips with his without hesitation, not that you mind, permission never requested and approval never needed anytime it comes to kissing between you two, parting your mouth when he parts his, letting him exhale smoke into it.

It inflates your lungs almost instantly, like two blistering hot air balloons butting up against your ribcage, getting you super stoned off the rip. You feel the muscles in your body relax all at once, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him in impossibly closer, working your tongue into his mouth.

There’s just something about shotgunning with Bjorn that gets you so worked up every time you partake in it, maybe it’s the intimacy of it, so close you can see Bjorn’s pupils dilate from the drugs and the desire, but you always find it ridiculously sexy whenever he does it.

You hear the quiet click of your seatbelt as Bjorn unbuckles it for you, pulling it up and off you before tugging on your wrist to get you to stand with him, pulling you into him, one arm circling your upper back to spread his fingers over your shoulder blades while the other grabs a handful of your ass, not once breaking the kiss.

It’s hot and heavy from the outset, it always is with Bjorn, likes to skip the teasing and jump head first into the deep end with you in tow. The slick sound of your tongues meeting is mostly drowned out by the pulsing engine and Navarro announcing the position of the gearshift when she changes direction, everyone pointedly ignoring the free show you’re giving them, already used to it by now, Bjorn never one to shy away from PDA.

However unlike him it took you awhile to warm up to it, always going a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed whenever he'd lick into your mouth or pinch your ass in front of everyone, but you learned to like it, love it even, looking forward to it every time he does it, which is all the time.

He places one knee between your legs and grinds his hard on up against your thigh, a low buzz humming between your ears like static from a television, swallowing the noises the other is making, grinding back against his thigh, your underwear getting increasingly wet as a result.

The friction between you is delicious—downright addicting, whining every time the denim of his jeans roughly catches your clit, dry humping his thigh that much harder, feeling pleasure quickly mounting inside of you, spurring on the frenetic roll of your hips. God does Bjorn know how to get you going, until you're needy and pliant and begging for him to fuck you.

“Such a naughty little minx ya’ are,” Bjorn exhales into your ear, a breathy groan that has you shuddering in his hold, “gonna make ya' come all over ma’ face while I go down on ya,’ would ya’ like tha’ princess? Me splittin’ ya’ wide open with jus’ ma’ tongue?”

Before you have a chance to respond, the others collectively groan in disgust, Tyler cutting in to voice everyone else's thoughts, “christ, can ya' take this somewhere else? Cousins really shouldn't hafta’ hear their cousins say shit like tha’ yanno!”

Bjorn smirks, lazily rolling his head in the direction of his cousin, running his tongue flat over the curve of his top teeth, “awe, jealous you ain't gettin' any action cuz?”

Tyler glares, no actual malice in his eyes, always willing to put up with Bjorn's ridiculous antics even when he clearly doesn't want to, “no, not at all, I jus’ feel like I need a shower now s’all. Ma’ brain hates ma’ ears fo’ even havin’ ta’ hear tha.’”

“Yeah, a cold one amirite?” Bjorn cracks as he walks away, leading you with his arm around your shoulders down the Corbelan’s corridor towards the back where the bunks are, tucked into his side while he playfully squeezes your bicep. He leans in close to nip at your throat just above the worn scoop neck collar, prone to leave marks, both of you liking the visual reminder that you belong to him.

There are two bunk rooms, the one Kay is lying in to help combat some of her morning sickness during takeoff, and the room adjacent to it, the empty one, is the one Bjorn pulls you into, crowding you up against the ladder as soon as you're through the open doorway, feeling metal rungs bite into your back through the loose fitting t-shirt you're wearing—Bjorn's shirt.

“Less get these rags off ya’ sweetheart, wanna taste tha’ pretty pussy of urs before we get inta’ space,” he rasps, grabbing the hem of the ratty fabric to pull it up and off your head, his hand easily finding the clasp on your bra to unhook it.

He licks his thumb and index finger to gently roll your nipple between them, eliciting a moan, high and needy in pitch, your head falling back against the platform the uppermost mattress is sitting on with a quiet ‘thunk’ because of it.

Bjorn chuckles watching your reaction, an arrogant smile on his face, always so smug with how quickly he's able to get you falling apart, always so receptive in his hands, more than familiar with every sensitive spot and erogenous zone located on your body, replacing his fingers with the wet suction of his mouth.

He doesn't take his time like he normally does, loves toying with your chest until they're red and raw and littered with purpling hickeys of various sizes until you're a whimpering, quivering puddle beneath him but tonight he's on a mission, having thought it out long before he filled you in back in the cockpit.

“I'd love ta’ suckle on ‘em titties a little longa’ but I got a betta' way ta’ use ma’ mouth, don'tcha agree princess?” He whispers, warm breath ghosting over your face, tickling your heated skin, causing the hairs there to stand at attention.

“Mmmmm,” you hum, short on breath, whining in response to him pinching the side of your heaving tit, knowing what he wants before he even voices it.

“Words babe, use ‘em,” he orders, circling his thumbs counterclockwise over your hard nipples like the joysticks on the console he plays when he's not playing with you. Your back arches into his heated touch, moaning, “I—yes. Please Bjorn—baby, want you to eat me out, want you to split me wide open with your tongue and come on your face like you promised you would. Please.”

“Well, since ya’ asked so nicely,” he grins, satisfied with your answer, getting you to lie down on the bottom bunk sideways so your legs are dangling off the edge of the thin bed.

It's a tight fit, definitely not big enough for him to crawl in after and fuck you in, regardless of the position you'd attempt to do it, but that's not his endgame right now anyway so it doesn't really matter to either of at you the moment. You'll figure that out later, when you're officially on course for the nine year journey to Yvaga III. The others are all gonna fucking hate you both by the end of it.

Kneeling on the ground between your legs he grips either knee and spreads them wide open, instructing you to lift your hips a little so he can shed your jeans, leaving you in nothing but your damp cotton panties.

You watch as he licks over his lips, slow and deliberate, like he’s eying his favorite meal, a new wave of wetness gushing out of you, reflexively trying to close your legs so you don't soak through the mattress but Bjorn's hands stop you from doing so.

“Don't get all shy on me now princess,” Bjorn smirks, thumbs brushing over the crease of your pelvis, flirting along the edge of your underwear, “s'not like I haven't seen it all before or nothing.”

Then he’s closing the distance, taking a big whiff between your thighs, the rapid flutter of his lashes and the growl that rumbles through his chest inciting a needy whine out of you, “always smells so fuckin’ good, so wet ‘n ready fo’ me like tha’ naughty little slut ya’ are. Gonna fuckin’ devour ya.’”

He blows cool air over your warm, wet core, causing you to shiver, trying to grind down on his face, his hands on your hips stopping you, punctuating the air between you, “patience sweetheart, we’ll get there, probably don't’ have much time left ‘nyway.”

Bjorn finally, finally rips your underwear down and off, throwing the bend of your knees over his shoulders before burying his face in between your thighs, licking between your dripping folds from the base of your throbbing core up to your clit, tongue circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Bjorn,” you whimper, electricity circulating through you like your veins are made of live wires, feeling high off the weed and arousal and adrenaline as your boyfriend eats you out, ankles locking behind the scruff of his neck to keep him there.

“Thas’ right baby, say ma’ name, is tha’ only one ur eva’ gonna moan cuz this pussy belongs ta’ me n’ me only,” he growls, giving your thigh a possessive little squeeze as he spells the letters of his name out on your clit to really drive the point home.

And the thing is—Bjorn's absolutely right, his name is the only one you're ever gonna moan, the only one you ever want to, because Bjorn doesn't just own what's between your legs he owns what's inside your chest too.

It’s the crude way Bjorn spits on your entrance that has you closing your legs around his head, moaning his name like a prayer, like you aren’t already wet enough, distantly aware it's just another way for him to stake his claim over you.

He probes the tip of his tongue against your opening, throbbing in anticipation, clamping down on the warm wet muscle as soon as he wiggles it inside, first an inch, then two, groaning as the taste spreads over his tongue.

It always drives you absolutely crazy how vocal Bjorn is when he's going down on you, like he's getting off on it more than you are, the noises he's making causing tremors of pleasure to undulate through you, blindly fucking back onto his tongue as a result.

He increases his persistence, steadily fucking his tongue in and out of you, one of the arms he has loosely circled around your thighs letting go to rub circles into your clit instead, applying just the right amount of pace and pressure to have you trembling in his grasp.

You continue to roll your hips down, growing frenetic with your rapidly approaching climax, cervical muscles contracting like wires being wound up tight, clenching around your boyfriend’s thick tongue while you grind up into his thumb, wet from his spit and your fluids.

Moans are freely spilling out of you know, oscillating between breathy little whimpers and needy whines of Bjorn’s name and phrases like, “baby—fuck,” and, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” orgasming just as the quiet boom of the Corbelan breaks through the surface tension of the exosphere and enters orbit, sunlight pouring through the window of the hauler and bathing you both.

Bjorn’s face is wet with your release, licking up your thighs and between your folds to clean you up, licking you into hypersensitivity, pulling your hips away when it starts to hurt. He kisses down your leg, gentle as he helps swing your legs in so you’re lying on the mattress correctly, crawling in to join you.

While it might not be big enough for you to fuck in its just right for cuddling, his arm going around your waist to reel you in close, groaning when you lean your head back against his shoulder to lick some of your juices off of him. He’s still fully clothed, hips pressed up to your naked ass, tracing over the dice tattoo on the back of his hand.

“Want me to return the favor?” You ask, fucked out and spent in his arms, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with sleep. Still, you’d power through the exhaustion if he wanted you to, just for him.

“No need princess,” Bjorn smiles, soft and affectionate, kissing behind your ear, “already gone limp. Gonna hafta’ change my boxers when I got tha’ energy. Tha’ pretty little sounds ya’ make really gets me goin.’”

You feel heat pool low in your core at the idea of Bjorn getting off on just your moans alone, meeting his eyes over your shoulder, dazzling in the sun. He kisses you then, full of love and passion, cradling your jaw to keep it turned towards him, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone, from the bridge of your nose back to your ear.

“Jus’ as breathtaking in tha’ light princess,” he whispers, eyes roving over your face, the same look he always gives you when he’s being incredibly sweet, like he’s been staring at the sun long before he saw the real thing.

A warmth spreads through you because of it, warmer than anything else in the universe, even the sun.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

i am here with some abby x depressed! reader content

once again, entirely self indulgent. i am in the biggest rut rn, but this was kinda cathartic. i cried while writing it actually.

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

abby’s a lot softer and empathetic than people give her credit for, especially with you. she can always tell when you’re having a rough day. she knows to only ask what’s bothering you once, knowing that sometimes you didn’t have the words to explain yourself. sometimes you didn’t even know. she would always ask

“do you want company or alone time?” 

today was one of those days. you couldn’t get out of bed, cocooned in all the blankets on the bed. you knew isaac would have your head if you shirked your assignment for the day. not even that could inspire you to move from your spot on the stiff uncomfortable mattress. when abby came to check on you at sunrise and caught you still in bed, she immediately jumped into caretaker mode. 

she sat at the foot of your bed and rubbed the outline of your thigh through the layers of blankets. 

“you okay? feeling sick?”

you shook your head, feeling too embarrassed to make eye contact. you couldn’t fathom how abby got up every day to suffer through patrol, run isaac’s errands, and still have the energy to hangout with her friends at the end of the day. just getting out of bed every day was an arduous task for you. isaac preached about family values and insisted that everyone had an important role on base, no matter how big or small. it felt like you were failing everyone. 

even worse, you felt like a burden on abby. you never got on quite well with her friends, feeling extremely out of place every time you all got together. some days you could push through the feeling, but these past couple days it has been entirely out of the question. you felt awful tearing her away from them to tend to you on top of everything else she was tasked with. 

“what assignment did you get today? my to-do list is pretty light, so i can get it done if you need me to.” 

abby always insisted you were allowed to ask for her help, but it made the weight on your chest even heavier. 

“just inventory in the armory. it has to be done before lunch.” with a stifled sigh, you sat upright in your bed. “i can probably–”

“don’t worry about it. i’ve got it.”

finally, you gathered the courage to look her in the eyes. her eyes never held the look of pity others gave you. the sweet smile on her face made tears well in your eyes. before you could stop them a few tears fell. using the back of your sleeve you hurried to wipe your face. a few soft apologies fell from your lips before abby reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“i promise, it’s fine. i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to. let me do this for you.”

it felt like she could read your mind. she understood you even when you struggled to parse through your feelings and form a coherent sentence.

 you sniffled and nodded. “thank you. for everything.” 

she cradled you in her arms and let you sob for a few minutes in complete silence. her hand gently rubbed your back while the sobs racked through your body. when you finally calmed down she pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“i love you. more than anything in the world.” those whispered words almost inspired more tears.

“i love you, too. i love you more, actually.”

she snickered. “not possible.”

abby stood and stretched, the wet patch of tears along the neck and shoulder of her shirt clung to her skin. “i’ll bring you back something from the cafeteria. i think it’s oatmeal and granola day.”

she gave you one last kiss before turning on her heel and leaving your room. 

[credince--writes]

Hands (1)

God, you dream of those hands.

Original Prompt:

Size Kink & Breeding Kink with Konig.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - AO3

Konig x Fem! Reader

(A/N): I accidentally fuckin deleted the original post while trying to add links to the other 2 chapters, so reposting LMAO. I'M SO SAD BC IT WAS ONE OF MY BEST PREFORMING POSTS.

Honestly? It started in a very innocent way.

"I'm taking off your gloves."

He sat in front of you, tapping his foot on the cold tile. Currently under the attention of you from the intended use of his hands in combat.

Which is why you were inspecting for broken knuckles.

Most of his gear had been taken off, set aside along with the hood that donned his head on missions. Now, you were pulling the gloved that clung to the asking of his hands off. Inspecting the pale skin beneath them.

"You know, I'm starting to think you do dumb shit like this on purpose." You glance up at him.

"I'd never." He replied.

"Because I'm lookin' at these hands, and I'm seeing a whole lot of unnecessary bruising."

"It was necessary."

You quirked a brow.

"You just, happen to lose your gun there soldier?" You pulled back, leaning back against your seat and shooting him an amused glance.

"Sometimes, things are better done by hand."

"mmhm." You mumbled.

Eyes trailed up his hands, finding stray scars and following the veins leading up to his forearms.

Man,

those were some big hands.

"Is everything alright, doctor?" He asks, amusement twirling around in his eyes, sparking out in his voice.

Maybe he was catching on to your oogling.

"Just making sure nothing broken. Can't imagine it would be fun to work with broken fingers."

"Nein."

"This hurt?" You ask.

"Nein."

"Then you're fine. I'll give you some meds and send you off on your way."

"Danke!" He shot up, clamping a hand down on your shoulder, man near enveloping your entire left side.

You started to imagine what it would be like if that big hand wrapped around your neck.

"Be careful, please."

"Of course." He shot a sideways, toothy grin. The side that his nose crooked over to and the side with the one crooked canine that made him look like a dog ready to chase a bone.

He turned, starting to walk away.

"You know, König." You stated. He stopped a turned around. "If you want to visit me, you don't need to have an injury."

His eyebrows raised, and you could swear there was a blush that tinted his cheeks. "I'll consider that for next time."

Before turning and leaving.

And he did visit you.

One visit turned into two.

Then four.

Then he just popped in so often while he was not on a mission he became part of your routine.

Have a cup of coffee with König in the morning, maybe even join him for dinner and enjoy it in the sanctity of your quiet and private office.

Just so happened that the longer you spent with him the more your thoughts were clouded.

His hands,

his thighs,

fuck, you can't even imagine how big his cock would be.

You'd like to think you were better than this.

Pressed up in your shower thinking about the huge man, wondering what his bare chest would feel like curling up over your back.

You closed your eyes, trying to picture just how good it would feel.

It would be right after he comes back from a mission, the dark look in his eyes still clouding his consciousness as he's still in the mindset of a soldier, a killer.

His steps would be heavier- you'd hear him walk into the bathroom, the rustling of clothing as he strips the cloth covering his flesh discarded down to the ground without a second thought.

He'd slip into the shower, with your head placed under the stream of hot water. Almost comically so, his head would be unable to reach the stream of water without immensely bending at the knees.

You'd hum, leaning back into him as he'd reach his arm around your waist, pulling your wet body closer to his. Head dropping down for his mouth to latch onto the nape of your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Gasping throwing your head back farther and allowing it to bump against his shoulder, letting out a light whine that he'd love to harvest from your throat.

One hand would drift down, widening his palm as it flattened and slid down your tummy, nearly covering the expanse of your abdomen before it dipped down, lower.

His other hand would grab your chin, pulling your head back to meet into a feverish kiss. Pressing your back up against the cold wall of the shower, holding it up against it.

On a normal occasion, you'd be terrified to slip, but you just know with his arm slinked around over you waist toying dangerously close to your cunt that there was no chance of slipping.

No chance of him letting you go.

A digit would brush up through your folds collecting the slippery production of your arousal, dragging his finger ever so carefully up until it traced around your clit. Circling it, dangerously so.

Applying pressure as the rough pad of his finger pushed against your clit, mouth devouring any noises you let out.

It hurt, in a way.

One that was so delicious you only wanted more.

His large finger pressing down on your clit felt heavenly, the feeling of his tongue pushing against yours as you swapped spit in the most degenerating fashion.

Your hips unconsciously pushed forward against his hand, bucking as he pressed you firmly against the wall.

He'd tsk, giving you a light scolding before removing his mouth from yours completely, allowing a thin strand of spit to cast its way from him lips to yours.

God.

You could just die.

He'd snicker, that snicker that made his lip quirk upward revealing his crooked tooth. All before he'd lean in and ask,

"What do you want me to do, Schatz?"

"Fuckkkk." You'd whine, letting your head bump against the shower wall. "Please." You'd whisper out.

"Hm?" He'd ask, still toying his finger around your clit.

"Finger me- fuck, please. Please finger me."

His finger would leave your clit, diving back down and just barely poking into your entrance.

The digit was long and thick- it felt like nearly two of your own being stuffed inside you. Even more so as the single digit could curl up in such a delectable manner pressing up against the spongey roof of your core.

You'd breathe harshly, ducking your head up against his neck and arm gripping at the expanse of his back and nails digging into the pale and freckled flesh.

He'd add a second digit, and you felt like you were on cloud nine.

No,

You felt like you were on cloud nine as he removed his free hand from you, bringing it down and rubbing on your clit as his other hand pumped mechanically in and out of you, curling his fingers forward and circling the pad of his finger against your clit.

It would feel like your legs would give out first, but he'd keep you upright as you came, his mouth would latch onto yours. Shoving his tongue into your mouth claiming you in the best way possible.

Body draped over yours, his large hands pleasing you to the point of competition-

Blinking, you realized there was no man draped behind you.

The water in the shower had run cold a long time ago, but the pleasant buzz in your head from your shameful masturbation numbed any embarrassment for a few moments.

You sighed, turning off the water and glancing down at your fingers.

For now? Thinking of his large hands would have to do.

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.1]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: I know this is technically the first chapter BUT, there is a prologue for this story. So if you haven't checked that out yet, it's linked above, and I highly recommend reading that first.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

The rain grew heavier, encouraging you to turn away from your departing friend in favor of heading home. Combined with the cool early-spring air, you were sure you’d get a chill. It was a little surreal, being a top-charted hero who helped save the world from villainous destruction and taking transit like you were a typical commuter. No one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even recognize you regardless of whether or not you were dressed for work.

That’s how the world was.

They cared for the first few weeks following the end of the war, but that dwindled as weeks stretched into months. Once the roads were rebuilt and everyone resumed their daily lives, there wasn’t much to remind them of what had happened.

And after the upheaval of hero-dominated society, the raving over who was Number One and which debuts showed the most promise declined to almost nothing.

Heroes were becoming a thing of the past.

Your apartment was reminiscent of that fact. For nearly your entire life, you were chasing after some dream of becoming a hero and making the world a better and safer place. Yet there was barely anything decorating your walls or countertops to suggest such a thing. You had been living there for roughly two years, just after the end of the war, but there were countless boxes shoved aside still waiting to be unpacked. You’d peered inside them a handful of times, but you decided it was better that their contents stayed tucked away.

After entering your apartment, you wasted no time in peeling off your soaked clothing. The various articles landed on the linoleum flooring with a wet slap. You kicked your pants to the side and shuffled over to one of the stools at your kitchen counter. You grabbed a throw blanket that was draped over the back of one of them and wrapped it around your shivering body.

A pitiful groan emanated from your stomach just before it cramped up uncomfortably. With a slight wince, you huffed and checked your fridge for any remaining left overs or easy meals.

What a sad sight that was. The light inside of the fridge illuminated your face as you stared at mostly empty shelves.

Whatever.

You could always order take out.

Swiping away missed calls and unread messages, you began a search for anything that sounded appealing.

Maybe if you’d gotten a text from Toga or Iguchi, you would have cared. But Toga was obviously busy with her big move, and you couldn’t remember the last time Iguchi had reached out to you. For a while, you two would try to make time to grab lunch or play games like you used to, but you both knew it was hardly the same anymore. You saw each other less and less, until your meetups stopped altogether.

Nowadays, your dreams were filled with memories rather than hopes for the future. Your heart and soul longed for the experiences and the people in your past, and the only way you could indulge was in your sleep. Waking up afterwards was like pulling teeth as you tried your utmost to return to whatever memory had been playing out in your mind.

The doorbell rang.

Your food was left outside your door, and after bringing it in, you ate maybe half of it before banishing the leftovers to the fridge of doom. The light filtering into your apartment gradually turned cool and dim, meaning it was just late enough for you to justify turning in for the night. You didn’t bother putting on a dry set of clothes, instead opting to crawl into bed wearing your mildly soggy undergarments.

Every day was the same. You’d work, go home, eat, and sleep. You never went out anymore, and you were certain that if you picked up your TV remote, it would leave a silhouette behind contrasting the dusty surface.

The only bits of ‘décor’ you had were photographs strewn about your TV stand. None of them were framed. They just lay there for you to peruse whenever you wanted to inflict even more emotional damage upon yourself. The old photos of your friends from work and school before the war best served for collecting dust.

There was one that stood out from the rest. It lay on your nightstand, still sheen from its frequent handling.

Delicately, you picked it up, just as you did most nights, and peered down at it.

–

It was the day Tenko Shimura officially started as a pro-hero at the AFO Hero Agency.

He spent the past few years with them as an internship and a work study, but everyone felt that starting there as a graduate was something to be celebrated. So you all made a day of it.

Everyone was there, and the conference room had been decorated and rearranged to better fit the occasion. Several platters of food lined the tables, filling the room with a heavenly aroma that complimented the chatter quite well.

Tenko wasn’t typically one for parties or huge get-togethers, especially when he was the focus, but he was kept from standing idly as people took turns congratulating him. You could tell he was beginning to grow tired of all the socializing.

You chuckled as you stepped up to his side, walking him away from his dying conversation. You watched as he relaxed his tense shoulders and dipped his head back with an airy groan.

“How does it feel being the life of the party?” you snickered.

He glowered at you through his messy, black bangs before placing a gloved hand on your shoulder and giving you a strong shove that sent you stumbling. You cursed as you regained your balance, ready to retaliate but he was already walking away from you.

“Hey!” You trotted back up to him.

“You’re next, you know,” he said, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You tilted your head to the side, “To be the focus of a party?”

“To join the agency,” he corrected. “When you graduate, you’d better.”

“Oh, of course.” You grinned at him before narrowing your eyes slightly. “But only if you promise to stick around until then.”

“I’m planning on it,” he chuckled, “Unless you piss me off.”

It was your turn to jab at him, but, unlike you, he kept his balance, barely even stepping to the side.

The two of you found a secluded place to sit and chat idly but it was mostly filled with a comfortable silence as you scrolled on your phones. You were only granted a few minutes of social reprieve before Magne came looking for you.

“Are you two aware that the party isn’t out here?” she said, crossing her arms like a disappointed mother.

You and Tenko exchanged a glance, but neither of you said a word.

“Get your asses in there!” She scolded, shepherding the two of you back to the celebration. “We’re taking a group picture.”

Everyone crowded together. You were pushed up against Tenko’s side, and the two of you felt Iguchi drop his arms onto your shoulders. He stood behind you, still clearly visible between your heads, and Toga latched herself onto your free arm. Touya lurked on the very edge of the group while Compress took on a dramatic pose to ensure his theatrics would be captured for all of eternity.

One of Jin’s doubles positioned himself in front of everyone, partially crouched down and shuffling this way and that in order to get the perfect angle.

He didn’t have to tell you to say ‘cheese’ to get you to grin from ear-to-ear.

You felt Tenko’s gloved hand press against the small of your back as the camera flashed, immortalizing the occasion.

–

Seeing everybody grinning back at you in the photo four years later made your heart ache in many ways. You were happy that you possessed that memory as well as a picture to always remind you of it. But you were also tormented by the fact that it would never be recreated.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t always come to fruition.

When you started as a pro-hero at the agency, the world was in too much chaos to celebrate. And even if you held a celebration once everything settled down, Tenko wouldn’t be there to congratulate you.

In spirit, maybe.

When you really thought about it, almost everyone would be missing.

Magne had passed many years ago, when your team was assigned to the Overhaul-Eri case. The war took away Jin, Touya, Sensei, and, of course, Tenko. Iguchi would have stuck around long enough, but Atsuhiro was forced into retirement when the war first started.

In a way, the villains got what they wanted. Countless heroes were decommissioned, and those who remained were no longer viewed in the same positive light as they once were. Criticism was high if a hero couldn’t carry out a job flawlessly and without any casualties. Even then, you were always at risk of being deemed a ‘fame-chaser’ or that you were only in it for the money.

The only heroes that remained were the honest and the resilient.

You liked to think you were both, but as time went on, you grew more unsure. In the beginning, you were more than eager to make a positive impact on people’s lives, regardless of whether or not you were credited or paid for it. Eventually, you met everyone at your agency, and hero work changed your life for the better. Even if you failed a job, you had people by your side to pick you back up and keep you pushing forward.

But now?

Now, you were tired.

You no longer had your support system keeping you motivated and in good spirits. While you still felt pleased with every life you protected, that feeling of fulfillment would be gone by the time your head touched your pillow.

That’s where you were at currently.

With a deep sigh, you let go of the photograph, letting it fall back onto the nightstand, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You shut your eyes, but you knew it would be hours before you actually fell asleep. You would either sleep the day away or you’d barely sleep at all. Rarely could you find a balance between the two.

Usually, you would stay up thinking about how everything ended up the way it did, and whether there was anything you could have done to prevent it all from happening. What could you possibly have done so that your team would still be at your side?

If you were split up differently during the Overhaul raid so that you were in Magne’s group, you could have pushed her out of the way of Chisaki’s fatal touch. If you had stuck by Jin’s side instead of letting him go into the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters alone, you could have fought off Hawks before he landed his deadly blow.

And Tenko…

You’d probably have to end the war all on your own in order to save him. He was at the forefront of every battle, leading the charge. He had no regard for his own safety. He gave up his own body so that Mr. Shigaraki could transfer his quirk and conscience to it. You’re pretty sure that was the point of no return.

After that, you don’t think anything that came out of Tenko’s mouth was truly him.

Whether or not he could even hear you scream and cry for him in the final moments of the war would remain a mystery.

The heels of your hands pressed deeply against your eyes as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your head. You couldn’t do this tonight. You needed to do something, anything, other than lay there and dwell on things of the past.

How could you have known what was to come?

Throwing off your covers, you ripped the last garments from your person and got up to change into something clean and dry. You had to get out of your sad and dingy little apartment. You wiggled your way into a spare hero suit after deciding that lending a helping hand for the night was your best chance at clearing your head.

You made your way back to your agency as quickly as you could through the frigid rain. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were summer time, since the warmth would typically counteract it, but you still had a few months of spring to get through. By the time you arrived, you were a bit damp, but you found it hard to care. Pulling your keycard out of your wallet, you tapped into the system so you could get in.

Even though it was late, there were still a few people around in case of emergency, and none of them were surprised to see you stroll in. Two of them were people you had graduated with, though they did their work studies elsewhere.

“Hiya,” Minji, a pink-haired and bubbly girl, sang to you in greeting. She was sitting alert at her desk, ready for whatever report came her way.

“Hi,” you nodded, walking over to her.

Another girl you attended school with was lounging in the space adjacent to hers, leaning back as far as her chair would allow, both feet propped up on the desk. Her head turned over in your direction before she acknowledged you, “Need something to do?”

“If you have anything,” you said with a shrug.

“I think Sakiko got a call-in just a few minutes ago requesting a hero to accompany the transport of a villain,” Minji chimed with a soft smile, eyes darting over to her companion.

“Uh, yeah. Let me get the details on that,” Sakiko mumbled as she kicked her feet off of the desk and scooted closer to search through her computer. “Yeah, so the police want to transport a villain to a higher security prison… His name is Dai Uchuu. He was involved with Overhaul during the raid, but he was able to escape, and there’ve been no updates on his activity since. We also don’t have any official documentation but his quirk is believed to be a teleportation-type triggered by his hands making contact with each other.”

“Sure, that works. Send me the address, and let them know I’ll be there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The station wasn’t too far from the agency. You walked for maybe ten minutes before you could see its lit-up sign at the end of the block. There was a brief flicker but it recovered almost immediately. However, the lights within the station began to spasm on and off, which was slightly more concerning.

The police relied mainly on quirk-nullifying restraints and cells to prevent breakouts. If they were having issues with the power, then the nullification effects would likely be down, and that would be quite the problem.

You quickened your pace and rushed into the building. The first thing you noticed was the plethora of odd objects that had been thrown about the lobby. There was a bicycle on top of the desk, a canoe sticking out from one of the doorways, and a large tub of paint that was actively rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blue behind it. You could see a large splatter on the wall where you assumed it had made contact.

The second thing you noticed was the silence. Despite the apparent chaos, not a single cop was in sight. You couldn’t even hear any voices emanating from adjacent rooms. There was no one.

You briefly reported the situation to your agency through the communicator strapped to your forearm and cautiously proceeded onto the other rooms. The holding area and the locker rooms were empty and in similar condition to the lobby. You were about to say the same for the offices, but you noticed a quiet murmur coming from behind one of the far desks.

In a slight crouch and with light feet, you slinked in that direction. As you peered around one of the desks, you saw the villain, Uchuu, still dressed in his medieval garb. His colorful back was turned to you as he rummaged through a filing cabinet. The quirk-nullifying restraints dangled from one of his wrists. One of the officers must have gotten that on him after he had a go at most of the building.

But then why hadn’t you run into him?

You silently reached forward and cast your quirk, causing his clothes to freeze him in place. As you walked forward, he began to snicker. You faltered a step at his odd behavior.

“Of course you would be the one to show up,” he spoke with a strange accent.

“I guess?” You positioned yourself in front of him. You wouldn’t be able to attach the restraint he had on to his other wrist due to it being frozen along with him, so you pulled out one of the few that you carried. “What happened to everyone?”

You reached forward to attach the new set of cuffs, but as you did, you caught sight of the file he was holding.

Was that your name?

The cabinet he was going through was supposed to contain criminal profiles. Just as you were about to question how and why he had one that was addressed to you, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” You jerked away and were about the curse the man out for fucking pinching you, before processing the fact that he was standing up. Your surprise had caused you to release your quirk, freeing him.

“What a fortunate turn of events this has been,” he drawled with a wicked grin. You narrowed your eyes and raised your arm to use your quirk again, but before you could, his hands clapped together.

You felt your entire body lurch forward, and for a moment, everything was black.

You figured you must have blinked because it was only a second before you could see clearly again. A wave of nausea began crawling its way up your belly, but you did your best to ignore the feeling while you frantically looked around.

It took you a moment to realize that Dai Uchuu was no longer in front of you. The filing cabinet was closed and no more papers were littering the floor. He must have gotten what he was looking for and bolted… Were you seeing black for longer than you realized?

If he clapped his hands, he must have tried using his quirk but he still had a restraint around one of his wrists. That should have been enough to still subdue his quirk, so he had to be around somewhere.

You quickly made to leave, almost bumping into an officer who was standing up from his desk. He shouted after you, and you gave a clipped apology but kept on your pursuit. As you entered the lobby, you almost ran head first into another officer and had to pause to move out of her way. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry though.

“Do you know which way he went?” you quickly asked her as you began walking backwards towards the exit of the building.

She looked perplexed, doing a double take of you. “Who? What were you doing in that area?”

He must not have gone that way otherwise, given his outlandish appearance, she surely would have remembered. That meant he would still be in the building.

“That’s where I found Dai Uchuu. He was going through some of the criminal records but he managed to get away,” you explained, slowly walking back towards her. “I’m not sure what he was looking for, but I’m guessing—”

“Who are you?”

What?

“I’m the hero assigned to your case,” you said matter-of-factly. “You guys sent in a request for help, so I came.”

She jerked her head back, scrutinizing you. “We didn’t—”

“Listen, if you didn’t see him come this way, he must still be in the building. You guys should look for him here, and I’ll check outside in case he found some other way out,” you said as you began a quick pace into the lobby.

They made quick work of cleaning up, because all of the foreign objects that were thrown about when you’d arrived were nowhere to be seen. You noticed even the giant paint splatter was gone. Actually, the entire place looked spotless of even normal dirt and wear-and-tear. Maybe you should’ve hired them to clean up your apartment for you.

The room erupted in clamor as you booked it outside. It was a lot clearer out without the rain, but you still couldn't see any sign of the villain. Leaving it up to intuition, you started sprinting down the road to your left as you updated your agency through your communicator with a request for more heroes to help search.

You were barely running for a minute before you began feeling overheated. There was no way you were that tired already, you didn’t go through all that training for nothing. Then, you realized it wasn’t your body that was too warm, it was the air around you. Not even ten minutes ago, you were freezing your ass off as you trudged to the station in the rain. Now, it felt like the temperature outside was pushing 70 degrees.

Someone had to be controlling the weather. Quirks like that were rare, but not unheard of. Either way, that was somebody else’s problem. You were a little preoccupied at the moment.

You were growing irritated that you hadn’t heard anything from your colleagues. Minji was usually super responsive. She must have stepped away and left Sakiko in charge, which would explain the lack of urgency on their end.

Your pace began to slow as your energy grew more and more depleted.

Your end of the search was proving to be pointless. You passed a run-down convenience store when you decided it would be best to head back to the station to see if the police were fruitful. You heard the chime of the shop’s bell too late, turning on your heel to retrace your steps and crashing into someone as they were exiting.

You jostled back.

There were two people, and your collision caused them to drop their bags, scattering the contents. You crouched down to help them pick up whatever had fallen, hoping they didn’t have any paper products for the rain-soaked ground to get soggy.

Your eyebrows pressed together as you picked up a messy handful of napkins. You looked down at the sidewalk and pressed your hand against it.

It was bone dry.

That couldn’t be right, there’s no way the water would have evaporated that quickly.

You couldn’t ponder the strange occurrence for long as the shoe of one of the people stepped closer to you. Hurriedly, you scooped as many items back into the bag as you could and peered up at them with an apologetic smile. They were already reaching toward you with an open hand. It was a bit too close to your face for your liking, so you leaned away as you stood.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” You pushed the bag into their hand and finally looked at the person’s face to see it was mostly covered by a black face mask and a hood. Despite that, peeking through a plume of dusty blue hair was a pair of fiery red eyes that felt as if they were burning through your soul.

♡ ♡ ♡

➨ Chapter Two

taglist: @boogiemansbitch

[trulybetty]

october | 01 x ruffled hair

pairing: frankie x reader word count: 661 warnings: n/a, just a little angst and some foreshadowing, as always unbeta'd summary: things between you and frankie haven't been the same since his return from colombia ao3: linked

{ x. series masterlist }

author note: prompts are not in chronological order, the story is told throughout the life span of the relationship. once all are posted, I'll post a list of the prompts in chronological order.

01 x Ruffled Hair.

The leaves outside had finally started to turn, green fading into yellow, and those that had fallen to the ground now had a crisp outline of red and brown as they crunched underfoot. The early morning sun spread across the room, seeping into those hard-to-reach nooks and crannies, only doing service to highlight the wisps of dust ushered in with the changing of the seasons.

You heard the bathroom door open and close quietly behind you. It wasn’t long ago that there had been mornings when you would have stretched up and pulled back the blanket covering the space beside you inviting his warm body back in. Now its sound just punctuated the silence that had settled over the last few weeks.

You lay still, eyes shut, listening to the soft rustle of clothing and the muted thud of drawers opening and closing. The scent of his soap wafted through the air, mingling with the crispness of autumn creeping through the slightly ajar window.

You could hear him inside the modest walk-in wardrobe, pulling on the black jeans he’d discarded there the night before much to your annoyance. As he buttoned them at the waist you cracked your eyes open just a little, you could see—through barely parted lashes—the heavy sigh in his shoulders before he pulled on his shirt and over his head.

You couldn’t make out what he was saying, his voice a quiet whisper under his breath, a mixture of Spanish and English punctuated by a curse that held no anger behind it when he finally allowed his shoulders to drop as he turned around slowly. As if he’d been bracing himself for this moment the entire time, facing you.

He ran a hand through his hair, the longer curls at the nape of his neck ruffled by his fingers, making them further unkempt than they were before as he tugged on them in frustration. The gesture was so familiar, yet it felt distant—and part of you wanted to reach out and replace his fingers with yours.

A lump formed in your throat as you dropped the charade of sleep and sat up in bed, your back braced by cold pillows. An unspoken question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. You fought the urge to fill the silence, fear winning out.

Fear of the words you weren’t ready to face.

His footsteps padded softly across the hardwood floor, stopping just short of your side of the bed. Part of you wanted to reach out, bridge the widening gap between you, but the weight of last night's argument anchored you in place.

The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. Each second that passed felt heavier than the last. He shifted his weight, and for a fleeting moment, you swore he was going to say something—offer an olive branch of an apology.

But instead, he cleared his throat and said almost inaudibly, “I’ll be back later,” there was hesitation in his voice as he reached for his baseball cap.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat feeling like it was going to choke you. He cast one last look at you before he moved away, the soft jingle of keys being picked up from the dresser the only noise in the room.

At the bedroom doorway, he paused once more. You held your breath, hoping against hope he’d turn around and everything would somehow just right itself, that the events of the past three months never happened. But the quiet click of the door closing dashed those hopes, leaving behind an emptiness that echoed through the room.

It struck you then, enough to make you catch your breath, that this was the first time he’d left without telling you he loved you. The realization settled a dark heavy weight in your chest, a stark contrast to the light filtering through the curtains.

[gym-x-plus]

PLATFORM GLUTES 💪🏽🔥

A little snippet from my leg day featuring the newest additions to our household! 😍🐈🐈

These had my glutes on FIRE. If you don’t have a bench, a sofa works great here.

Here I’m pressing out against a band to fire up my glutes and generate additional tension throughout the entire rep. Couple this with the slow and controlled lowering to my platform and pulse/half rep variations, and the results are killer!

Time under tension is the MVP of my method 🔥🙌🏽 It’s why even though I’m not lifting super heavy in these moves, the added tension through intentional band use, slow and controlled tempo, and varied range of motion makes the weight I am using feel so much heavier 💪🏽

This method is WHY I can target my glutes with compound movements and prevent my (normally dominant) quads from taking over 🙌🏽

💪🏽Complete 10-15 reps per move, and up to rounds

🍑 Some clips contain more than one move. Be sure to watch the full clip to see both!

For more guidance on my fusion method that will sculpt and strengthen your glutes, full body, and deep core, check out my online program. Glute strengthening is included in all of my programs, but you can select a booty builder focus if that is your primary goal ☺️💪🏽

©️Credit ig @homebodysculpt

📌You can find these resistance bands linked in my bio

🎶Song: Take it

Musician: @LiQWYD

#fit #fitness #fitgirl #fitnessgirl #gym #fitnessmodel #workout #squat #sportgirl #abs #glute #glutesworkout #glutegains #hip #leg #legs #legday #cardio #core #body #bodypositive #bodybuilding #bodygoals #backtraining #walking #beach #bikini #bikinimodel

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 13

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Dorks in love, SMUT, NSFW, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

₊˚✩⊹

“I think my Zelda would like to know.”

“Yeah, I know, she’s an expert on Hylian history, but this is, like, unheard of, even for a fanatic of history like me.”

Wild looks out onto Hyrule Field, the wind starting to pick up a bit. You and the Chain were making your way towards Hyrule Castle, which was less than a day’s walk from your location if you didn’t stop for inns or camp.

“...Are you not freaked out by this? I mean, your entire destiny and 'hero’s purpose' relies on the balance of a triforce… not a tetraforce.”

Wild shrugs, “I mean, I wouldn’t consider myself a blind follower of Hylia, or whatever was set in stone for me, but it is strange.”

You nod, you knew some of the boys weren’t too keen on the idea of Hylia and her ideologies. After all, almost everything they’ve been through was directly from her prophecy.

“You think the castle has spare clothing or something? I can feel my entire body chaffing from how torn up my clothes are.”

Wild smiles, “You… do know you could’ve just asked me for some spare clothes, right? We’re the same height, practically.”

“Yeah, I know, but I feel bad. I don’t like taking stuff from you guys.”

“I’m offering.”

“Still.”

~

By the time your group made it to the gates of Hyrule Castle, it was downpouring. You could feel the clothes sticking to your skin, your bones practically shivering. You felt terrible for Twilight, his pelt probably made his clothing ten times heavier.

“Din’s tits, I’m freezing.” Legend mumbles, wringing out his tunic on the floor. His bangs were stuck on his forehead, the pink hue turning brighter when wet. 

Zelda suddenly enters the room, eyes widening at the state of your party.

“Oh goddesses! Link, what happened?”

“We were caught in the storm, came out of nowhere. Do you have any spare clothes and blankets?”

She nods, ushering him to follow her. 

Four walks up to you, sitting down on the carpet next to you. You don’t say much, but the silence is comfortable. You look around the large room, the walls lined with shelves that reach the ceiling, each filled to the brim with ancient Hylian literature. The wall in front of you had an ornate fireplace, a godsend in your freezing, wet clothing.

You look over to one of the velvet couches, Time and Twilight sitting down and ridding themselves of their heavier armor. You don’t realize your staring until Time makes eye contact with you, causing you to appear very interested in the fireplace. He smiles to himself, busying himself with polishing his chestplate.

You look over at Twilight, noticing he’s still in his soaking pelt.

“Oh for the- Twilight get that wet pelt off of you, you’re gonna freeze or die of stinkyness.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

You give him a look.

“Okay okay, here. Don’t put it too close to the fireplace though.”

You nod. You set it out flat on the stone floor, making sure it wasn’t too close to the embers, but close enough that it would dry relatively quickly.

“Y/n! I’ve brought some spare clothes for you, Link mentioned that you needed them. You can change in the room down the hall, first door on your left.” Zelda smiles. You thank her, taking the bundle of clothes to the other room while the boys get warm and comfortable.

Closing the door behind you, you shed your layers, wincing at the cold nip of the air on your bare skin. You quickly change to avoid someone walking in the room, bundling up your wet clothes to warm in front of the fireplace.

You can already hear some of the boys talking as you walk back into the main room.

“Goddesses, you smell like wet dog, Twi-”

“One more dog joke and I swear-”

“Oh, hey Y/n!” Wind exclaims, making everyone shut up.

“Hey, squirt, you guys all warming up?”

He nods, pulling you along so you could join the circle. Before you sit down, you lay out your wet clothes in front of the fire, making sure your panties are somewhat discrete so you don’t get any comments from the others. Not like they would say anything anyways.

Time, Wars and Twilight were all on the couch, armor and outer layers shed. Hyrule, Legend and Four were elbows deep in some card game, a few rupees and trinkets in the middle used for gambling.

Sky was wrapped up in a blanket, reading some book that he picked from the shelves. Time was looking into the fire, embers reflecting in his eye. 

You sit in between Wind and Sky, placing your chin on Sky’s shoulder to look over what he was reading. You couldn’t read Hylian, much less Ancient Hylian, so you were just there for support.

“Whatcha readin’?” you softly ask, eyes glued to the writing on the pages.

“Some love story about a knight and a girl. Quite a long story though, so I definitely won’t finish it.”

The evening continues, the only sound being the fire crackling and some of the boys talking. At some point, Zelda brings dinner for you and the Chain, pulling Link away again to talk about something. No doubt about your discovery, but you choose to ignore the strange feeling in your pit for now.

After finishing your dinner, you climb onto the couch in Wars’ spot, as he joined the enticing card game on the floor with the others. You were in between Twilight and Time, already feeling the call of sleep. Before you doze off, you feel someone drape a soft blanket on top of you, your senses drowning out the rest of the waking world.

~

“Do you think they know?”

“Know what, Pup?”

“Our… attraction towards them.”

The Chain’s banter and games have since died down ever since you fell asleep, Wind cuddling to Hyrule on the floor.

“I think they know, in some sense. Not fully.”

Sky sighs, deep in thought. He suddenly speaks up, eyes on the fireplace.

“I think we should tell them, before something happens or if they leave. Assuming from what everyone’s been saying, it seems like we all feel the same towards them.”

The Vet scoffs, “Yeah and we’ll scare them away.”

“What makes you think that?”

“How would you react if 8 men told you they have the hots for you?”

Sky blinks, he has a point. It would overwhelm you.

Time clears his throat, “Although I agree with the Veteran, I do think we need to be honest with them. We would be hypocrites if we lied to them or made them believe an illusion.”

Nods go around the group, each one lost in thought.

“From what you told us, Old man, it seems like they already have romantic interest for some of us and have hinted towards the others. I don’t see why we shouldn't tell them some time soon, perhaps at the Winter Festival.”

Wild looks at you, eyes soft. 

“I care for them so much. So so much. I’m just so scared of losing my friendship with them. They mean the world to me.”

The Old man nods.

“They mean everything.”

~

You wake up with a jolt. You don’t feel panicked, so you didn’t have a nightmare. Weird.

You tried going back to sleep, but after tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, you decided to get up and move around a little. You tiptoe out of the room, leaving the door propped open for when you decided to return.

Walking down the hallway, you hum quietly a song from back home. It makes you homesick, but it makes the castle feel less eerie. Trailing your fingers along the stone walls, you look up to see very interesting paintings.

They were portraits of each era’s hero and princess.

You chuckle, this was so unlike them. Each one was resembling their appearance in game, only with minor differences. Time was younger, which was so strange to see after spending over a year with them. Twilight didn’t have his markings, Legend’s hair wasn’t pink, and Wind still wore his green hero’s garb.

Their past lives. Lives that aren’t forgotten. Lives that still loom over them. 

Suddenly, your vision is blocked. Someone is behind you.

“What the-”

“Shh. You don’t want to wake the others, do you?”

“Time?”

He just sighs in relief. You turn to look at him, his face just barely being visible from the lanterns lighting the hallway.

“What are you doing up? You know Zelda’s guards take watch, right?”

“I know, I couldn’t sleep. I presume you’re in the same situation, no?”

You nod, suddenly hearing footsteps from the opposite end of the hallway. Not wanting to end up being caught in a misunderstood situation, you grab Time’s wrist and run to a small alcove just at the end of the alcove, hidden under a heavy tapestry.

“Sorry, I-uh didn’t wanna deal with him.” You whispered, panting slightly from running.

Now that you can focus, you realize the alcove is way smaller than you thought. Time was practically caging you in, feeling his breath on your forehead.

“I’m not.”

“Wh-”

He propped you up on one of his knees, his hand pulling you in by your neck, interlocking his lips with yours. This kiss felt desperate, like he had been waiting for days, weeks. Well, you suppose he has.

You pull away panting, looking at where you thought he was based on his breath, “What’s gotten into you? Needy all of a sudden-”

He shuts you up again, pulling your hips closer to him until there was practically no space between the two of you. At some point he starts kissing downwards, inhaling your scent in the junction between your neck and shoulders, exhaling reverberating through his chest. The action in itself felt possessive, dominating. It was addicting.

“Can I…”

“Please.”

Without a word, he continued mouthing over your exposed skin, still carefully holding you on his lap like he did oh so many moons ago. 

He slid one hand slightly under your tunic, warm hands pawing at your skin.

“You’re so warm. So soft.”

He slid his hands back down, flipping you around so your back was to his chest. His hands dragged back under your tunic going upwards to your breasts. Thank god you hardly ever wore a bra anymore.

He rolled your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer finger, you whimpering slightly when he tugged lightly on each of them. His palms firmly cupped your chest while he played with your nipples, chuckling lowly in your ear.

“You like that, hm?”

You just whimpered loudly in response, light grinding on his legs. He shushed you quietly, reminding you of the guards just down the hall.

He kept one of his hands on your chest, trailing the other down to your trousers, unlacing the cord that held them up. He slowly started rubbing small circles over your clothed heat, teasing you.

“Time, stop teasing-ah!”

“Say my name, darling. Please.”

“Ti-”

“No. My name.”

He tilts your chin up, the highlights of his eyes being the only thing you can see in the dark alcove. You can almost make out his half-lidded gaze drinking in your form.

“Link. Link, please- fuck!”

He slips two fingers under your panties, rubbing sensual circles over your bundle of nerves. 

“Good girl. Such a good girl. Be nice and quiet for me, hm?”

You nod, biting your lip as he continues his touches. He then slides his fingers into you, stretching you open with his thicker digits. When was the last time you’ve been touched like this? Almost two years-

Time nudged his fingers deep in you, hitting the spongy spot that made you keel over in pleasure. He licked the shell of your ear, cooing at your desperate noises, like music to his ears.

In just a few moments, you can feel the knot in your lower stomach tightening, your head starting to feel dizzy from how euphoric you felt. Time was like a drug. Addicting.

“L-link I’m so close oh my god-”

“I can tell, my little Mouse. You going to cum all over my fingers? Such a dirty girl.”

With a silent scream, you buck your hips up, cumming all over Time’s fingers. He firmly held your hips in place, not letting you go, pushing you over the edge. He slowly pulls his fingers out just as the overstimulation sets in, a pathetic whimper leaving your lips from the emptiness you felt.

You panted, calming down from your high. You reached up to brush your fingers through Time’s hair, his forehead slumping onto your shoulder.

“This was-hah, not what I was expecting for tonight.”

He hummed, pressing a firm kiss to your shoulder.

“As much as I would love for us to continue, you need to sleep. We can continue where we left off… another time, if you’d like.”

You pause.

This wasn’t a one-time thing?

Smiling to yourself, you mumble “I’d love that, Link.”

You press a kiss to his lips, taking a few extra moments to savor his musk and the warmth of his chest. Once you pulled away, you fix your tunic and pants, brushing through your hair to seem less disheveled. 

“Goodnight, Link. I’ll... see you later.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

₊˚✩⊹

[haunting-venus]

who ever said three's a crowd ? ↳ neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader ( + male oc...)

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), characters are aged up !, extensive dirty talk ( about a threesome ), talk of mlm/anal sex, slight intoxication, handjob, fingering, p in v

word count: 3108

notes | this is for day three of romancing pandora and i am actually so pleased with how this turns out, let my boy neteyam be bi omg ! this might be cheating a little bit since there is no actual threesome (yet) but there is explicit dirty talk/fantasization about one ! don’t worry you dirty dogs, i am in the process of writing the sequel to this once i am not drowning in school assignments

please feel free to picture zaelnu however you like but this is personally how i see him

na'vi dictionary | sayrìp — handsome ; yawnetu — loved one, beloved person

You were dancing on air as you trailed through the reaches of High Camp, fingers tangled in Neteyam’s as you giggled through the night. You were riding the line between sober and drunk, your extremities pleasantly tingling and feeling a little bolder than usual.

Neteyam wasn’t usually one for public affection beyond linked fingers and fleeting forehead kisses, so you count yourself lucky you’d been able to get your hands on him so much tonight. It felt like forever since the two of you had had any time alone. Neteyam’s duties as future Olo’eyktan became more intense every day, especially with the increasing amount of RDA raids and counterattacks that seemed to grace your home much too often.

It made you proud, knowing your mate was important and competent and helping your clan at all waking hours. It also meant he was gone for long stretches at a time, trudging home tired and dirty. You missed him like hell.

The many lonesome nights and the buzz of fermented juice had made your usually fleeting public touches heavy and lingering. Your fingers traced over the nape of Neteyam’s neck, nails scraping against the roots of his hair, thigh pressed solidly into his side as your lips ghosted over his broad shoulder.

Your probably inappropriate demeanor for two prominent members of the clan was hardly noticeable among the drinking and dancing bodies—families and mated pairs chattered all around, singing and conversing over shared leaves of meat and fruit. To anyone sparing a passing glance, the two of you probably just seemed a little cozier than normal. The warriors had returned from the raid with plenty of wares and no casualties, a feat rare enough that it warranted a little celebration in the midst of war and chaos.

Neteyam was limber and relaxed next to you the entire time, the most relaxed he’d been in ages. His cheeks were tinged dark with the effect of the liquor and the trace of your fingers, his hand dancing dangerously high on your leg and eyes glinting playfully with the light of the fire. You felt heat pool within you at the little challenge in his gaze, your breaths becoming heavier as you let your hand trail down his chest, ghosting along the fabric of his loincloth as you leaned over him to grab another piece of fruit.

The shudder Neteyam let out would be imperceivable if you weren’t pressed so solidly against him, breathing hard through his nose as his fingers tightened on the inside of your thigh. He was just as wanting as you were. It gave you a sense of comfort knowing he had missed your touch as much as you missed his.

You turned a bit on your way back up, hoping to catch the heated look in Neteyam’s amber eyes and instead caught the startled gaze of a young warrior, Zaelnu, across the fire. You felt a hint of shame run through you, ready to run away and hide, before you noted the raw desire staining the archer’s face, eyes near black with what you were sure was want.

You held the man’s gaze for a moment, brow bone raising a bit in playful question before he turned away flushing, immediately busying himself with the roaring conversation between young warriors next to him. It could’ve been an accident, wandering eyes that happened to catch you at the wrong time. Except, now you couldn’t help but clock the stolen glances Zaelnu kept shooting your way, lips wet and swollen as he bit on them, eyes trailing over the clench of Neteyam’s abs and the delicate curve of your waist over the flickering flames.

You pushed Neteyam down onto your bed mats with heated pants, planting yourself into his lap with a desperate pull of your mouths to one another. You couldn’t help the images that flooded your brain as your mate’s hands gripped your hips, his ears pinned back to his head as he gasped into your mouth. Another set of hands roamed across Neteyam’s chest, tracing under his pecs and down his slim hips, a second pair of lips finding the sensitive spot beneath his ear to make him groan between the two of you.

It piqued your memory of something you and Neteyam had discussed long ago, under the light of eclipse with intimate whispers when Neteyam was first coming to terms with liking both men and women. There were many mated Na’vi that brought in a third party into their relationships, either for sexual or child-rearing needs. It wasn’t at all unusual, but he assured you there was no one else better for him than you, that he was completely content as things were. That didn’t mean the idea had been completely abandoned, reemerging at times in dirty fantasies whispered under heated breaths as you worked him in your hands.

You let out a little whine as Neteyam pulled you more firmly into his lap, the bulge of his cock seating between your swollen cunt with a delicious friction. Your lips left him with a wet sound, ducking your head to run your tongue up along his long neck, letting your teeth graze across the muscle there.

“Fuck, love, missed this so much,” Neteyam’s voice with breathy with want, head leaning back against the wall of your shared home as he rubbed his thumbs along the dip of your hips. “You’re lucky no one saw us, with your hands all over me like that.”

A teasing smile edged on your lips, canines glinting as you pressed your forehead to his with a heated stare. “Actually, I think your little archer friend got an eyeful.”

“What—stop joking.” Neteyam goes still under you, eyes a bit wide.

Zaelnu was a talented marksman, tall and lean with kind eyes and dark dreads knotted with chains and feathers. He was a bit sarcastic, but still sensitive, with a remarkable respect for nature and the creatures he hunted. It was clear he admired Neteyam, often seeking his advice before anyone else, but he always stayed respectfully distant.

Neteyam was subtle about his attraction to the younger hunter, keeping up the cool facade of dutiful friend and stoic leader. He had played the role of the respectable eldest son his entire life, always putting others' needs and feelings before his own even if it was to his detriment. It was too bad that you could see through him like a glass window, reading each flick of his tail and flush of his cheeks when he was around Zaelnu for what they really were—desire.

“I’m serious. He looked like he wanted to eat you right up. Don’t you think he’d look pretty, with his head between your legs?”

You can feel Neteyam’s heart quicken under your hand, cock twitching even as he frowns up at you. “Stop it, we talked about this. I love you, yawnetu, I want you. You will always be enough for me.”

“I love you too, Neteyam, always.” You press a swift kiss to his flushed cheek, running a soothing hand down his shoulders. He nervously worried his lip between his teeth, fingers twitching up your leg. “But I know that there are parts of yourself you cannot explore with me, and I want that for you. It would please me to give that to you.”

He grunts as you roll your hips slowly against him, feeling the weight of him against you as you hold his gaze. “My love-”

“Besides, you know I think it’s hot, and I know you’d like it.” You let your hands wander down the ripple of Neteyam’s stomach, feeling him shiver under your light touch. “Come on, sayrìp, tell me.”

You pepper kisses down his neck, hips moving steadily against the bulge of his cock, relishing in the way the swollen head nudges against your clit. You can feel yourself becoming wetter against him, the whining noises coming from his chest and the fantasy spilling from the depths of your mind making fire run through your core.

“I-I’d want him on top of me, stretching me,-hah-just like that, yawnetu, shit.” His canines worry his lower lip, cheeks flushed high as you move to slip his cock from its restraining fabric. He looks borderline wrecked under you, eyes hot and pleading as you run your fingers firmly against the tender spot under his cockhead.

“You’d want him to fuck you?” That hadn’t been quite what you had in mind but it made your thighs clench, imagining Neteyam panting and flushed as he so often had you, sucking marks into your neck as he clenched around the fingers inside him. “He does seem pretty good with his hands. Fuck, would you let me watch? Let me stroke you just like this as his fingers open you up?”

Neteyam makes a desperate sound, ears pinned against his skull as he bares his teeth to your neck. He briefly moves his hands off your waist to the ties of your loincloth, fingers tugging at the knots until the fabric falls free against your legs. He makes quick work of running his thumb through the slickness there, gliding it up and over your clit, making you pant into his shoulder. 

“What if I sat on your face, letting you taste just how hot you make me while he fucks you. I bet you’d be trying so hard to stay focused, making me cum on top of you, but it would feel so good you’d lose it.”

You were trembling on top of Neteyam now, pushing your hips into every slide of his fingers against your throbbing clit. Your words felt like they were spilling from the deepest parts of your brain into the air between you, unchecked and raw as you gasped them wetly into your lover’s skin. Every fleeting thought and shameful fantasy was making itself known, pulling itself from you with every desperate movement of Neteyam against you.

“You think he’d know just how you want to be fucked, or would he ask your advice like he does everything else? Maybe you could use me as an example, your perfect little display of how to properly fuck someone until they’re begging.”

Neteyam groans from deep in his chest, the sound rumbling through you. His slick fingers abandon your clit, just barely teasing the rim of your pussy before stroking deep inside. Your thighs shake around him as you grind wantonly against his hand, nudging his fingers against the spot you crave the most.

“Fuck, oh, yawnetu, would want you on me, your pretty lips on my cock before you get up and kiss him while he fucks me under you. Want him to taste me on you-”

Neteyam’s fingers keep bumping into that soft spot that makes your eyes roll back, pulling desperate mewls and pants from you. His neck is scattered with marks now, little indents of your teeth and blossoming purple spots that he’ll no doubt get teased for tomorrow. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered but the solid feel of him underneath you and the dizzying heat building between you.

An idea piques your mind through the pleasure, crawling its way to the forefront as you feel Neteyam’s fingers desperately pushing you to release. Your fingers trail down his shaft, tracing the throbbing veins with firm touches before rolling his balls into your palm. You can feel liquid courage racing through you, spurred on by the throb between your thighs and Neteyam’s twitching hips. You let your fingers trail behind his balls, the edge of your knuckle rub firm circles into the patch of skin there, stimulating his prostate.

Neteyam’s eyes widen, dark and wanting as he lets out an honest to mother whine as he stares up at you. His cock twitches against you, wetting the spot under your navel with precum as he shifts between pushing closer and pulling away from your touch. You give an awed giggle, heat pulsing through you as you give another gentle rub behind his balls before he’s nudging your hand away from the sensitive spot.

The world shifts as Neteyam pushes you back onto the mats, gripping both your wrists above your head with clenched fingers. The soft fibers stick against your sweaty back as he pressed his weight down into you. You let you a whine as his precum slicked cock slid between your folds, slotting into the seam of you with a steady grind. He was able to get so much more leverage this way, pulling one of your legs high up on his hip to press his cockhead firmly on your clit.

“Fuck, ‘Teyam-”

“Isn’t this what you wanted, yawnetu? Get me all worked up, tease me with your pretty words?” His words were thin and panting even as he tried to gain control over himself, eyes wild as he kissed his way between your breasts and up your neck with tongue and teeth igniting every nerve along your body.

“Just, please, fuck me, I-I need it-want it so bad.”

Neteyam can feel himself losing his grip on himself between the smell of your sex and the dirty video of your fantasies making his mind fuzzy with desire. He releases your hands from above your head, stroking down your body and across your firm nipples. You’re so pretty under him, absolutely soaking and pushing your hips frenzied up into his touch, moaning softly with each flick of his fingers across your breast.. 

“Shit, yeah, pretty girl, I-I’ll give it to you, just let me-”

He pulls back briefly to adjust himself at your hole, fingers tight under your thigh as he lifts your leg to push deeply inside you. You hadn’t felt this desperate in a long time, sensitive and mewling under Neteyam as he screws his eyes shut above you, in an effort not to cum. The air between you was charged, the pressure inside you overwhelming and, fuck, he was so far inside you, pressing right into the spot that made you see stars at this angle.

“Fuck, you drive me insane, sound so pretty like this-hah”

He moves his hips steadily into you, long and deep, moving his fingers down to roll your soft and swollen clit. You can’t help but keen at the touch, fisting your hand into his braids to pull a groan from deep in your lover’s chest.

“Keep touching me like that, p-please love.” You can hear the pleading in your voice, each word sounding more like a moan than a sentence as heat builds up steadily in your core, singing through your clit and up your spine.

You felt a little frantic, gasping huge gulps of air that were pushed out of you in little ah, ah, ah’s everytime Neteyam rolled his hips back into you. He didn’t seem to be faring any better. His gasps are raw and desperate, muscles straining as he holds himself above you, thighs flexing and forearm taut with exertion.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, love, take me so well, so deep inside.” 

Neteyam is breathless above you, eyes fixed on the sight of your cunt stretching so prettily around him, swollen and wet. His lip is between his teeth, chest heaving with each breath, and it’s so easy to imagine him on his knees just like this, pressed between you and another man, fucking you mindlessly to the same rhythm that Zaelnu is driving his long fingers into his prostate.

“Fuck, I’d w-want you to be in the middle, f-fucking me like this while he fucks you, please ‘Teyam.”

It takes a moment for Neteyam to process what you said, head fuzzy with the impending tightness of his orgasm and the sweet gasping sounds you make each time he pushes into you. When it manifests, the image does him in—being pressed between your legs in the sweet heat of you while Zaelnu stretches him wide, having to fight between pushing back into the tight pull of your cunt or pressing onto the cock splitting him open.

The shock of his orgasm runs like lightning down his spine, hips jutting unevenly and hard into you as heat floods his body and pleasure crests up through his abdomen. Neteyam’s face is lax and panting into your shoulder as he cums, fingers gripping the meat of your ass bruisingly tight as he spends himself inside of you. 

You feel a swell of pride in you as Neteyam shakes above you, cock jerking inside of you with each pulse of his racing heart as he fills you. He prides himself on always making you cum first, it feels nice to turn the tables every once in a while.

His fingers move frantically against your clit, wet and sloppy as he urges you to chase the high together, and you can feel yourself cresting the edge. You feel yourself clenching around his softening cock, pulling overstimulated gasps from Neteyam that he muffles with his teeth in your shoulder.

“Oh my, fuck, yes.” The sting of his canines pushes you to the edge, back arching into the pads of Neteyam’s fingers as he rubs your clit in sweet circles as you fall apart under him.

Your head tips back, digging your blunt nails into the muscle of his shoulder, panting through the twitching of your muscles as Neteyam slowly pulls himself out of you. The air is hot and sticky between you, slowly cooling with the light breeze coming from the opening at the top of your home. 

“Damn, you were really into that, huh?” There’s a teasing edge to your tone, soft and breathless as you hook your leg over Neteyam’s thigh. He pushes his face into your shoulder, feathering light kisses across the curve of your neck.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, you’re so hot when you get desperate like that. I’m just glad my intuition about your little crush was right.” You chuckle sweetly.

He groans and throws his head back, lips curling in a bashful smile as he lets the afterglow of his orgasm wash over him. His fingers trailed down through your hair, rubbing against the back of your neck comfortingly. “I will never live this down, will I? It’s not like I was the only one worked up. Those were some pretty detailed fantasies, yawnetu.”

“I might’ve thought about it more than I’ve let on. It’s hard not to, with how you stare at him like you’re going into heat.” Your cheeks flush a bit, teeth playing with your bottom lip as you giggle at the shocked part of his lips.

“I do not stare.” 

“Uh huh, okay, sayrìp.” You press a kiss to Neteyam’s cheek, trailing your fingers across his arm that’s slung over your waist. “Just saying, he stares at you too.”

tags | @tallulah477 @neteyamsoare @eywaite @torukmaktoskxawng

[crow-raven-crow]

Holaa, podrias hacer un fic de Larissa inspirado en la canción "Young and beautiful-Lana del rey" algo demasiado romántico, por favoooor 🙏💗

𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥..

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~2.5k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: LYRIC FIC, angst, insecurity, flashbacks, issues with looks and self image, mentions of time and aging, insecurity within aging and looks, bittersweet feeling, crying, anxiety, FLUFF, lyrics are jumbled but in order of the song

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see ask above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The purple and blue hues of the night sky were slowly making themselves known with the moonlight, taking over the welcomed warmth that was casted over the blonde. Her eyes fluttered across the screen, her fingers moving rapidly against the laptop keys as the tapping was the only sound that filled the room. With a heavy sigh, she hit the final button, sending off the email and finishing her work for the day.

I've seen the world..

She leaned back into her chair, seeking comfort in the leather backing as the disappearance of the sun made itself known to her, making the room dark and cold in the presence of the moon. She had gone hours with no break, working off the determination to get everything done for a relaxing weekend that always seemed to run from her grasp. Of course, reality had different plans, as a light ping came from her laptop and signaled the delivery of a new email.

Done it all..

She closed her laptop in defeat, capturing her face in the palms of her hands as she gave herself a moment to just be, but the tiredness that sat underneath her skin became all consuming as it enveloped her entire being. Her hands moved down her face, dragging and pulling the skin lightly before landing against her thighs. She turned her chair to face out the window, choosing to distract herself in the endless tree line, only to be met with her own reflection staring back at her against the cool glass.

Had my cake now..

She took in the state of her features - her tired eyes, her growing bags, her tense shoulders.. and the deep frown that sat on her lips. Her bones felt heavier than normal, weighing her soul down and allowing an emptiness to settle within her chest. Everything about her screamed exhausted, casting one thought to the forefront of her mind: When had she gotten so.. old?

The insecurity clawed its way into her throat, closing it up and making her eyes burn with the realization. She brought a hand up to her face, fingers tracing along the features that now showed themselves so unpleasantly. Aged, awful, vile, revolting, worn down.. her..

She thought back to a time where she felt younger, a time where she felt better, one of the many times she spent with you..

~~

Hot summer nights, mid-July..

You danced with the heat of the setting sun, sand softening every step as you both moved along with the waves of the deep blue ocean. A city line met you on your other side, so far into the distance that only the lights were seen from this far. There was no music playing, no work to be done and no meetings to be had.. The sounds of your laughter moving along with the breeze as your hands were in hers, making your honeymoon a core memory within you both.

Where you and I were forever wild..

She pulled you along with her, spinning you and pulling your body flush to hers and repeating the action time and time again. The sound of your laugh filled her heart, making it beat faster and soar along with the clouds that sat above you both in the sky. There was a moment where you had lost your footing, one foot planting itself so deep into the sand that the next move had you toppling over.

The crazy days..

Her back met the yellow and brown grains as she attempted to catch you, your legs tangling together as you fell on top of her. Her hold around you was tight, only loosening as your gaze met hers. After realizing that you were both okay, smiles overtook your lips and your chests rumbled as laughs escaped them.

City lights..

A calm washed over you both after the laughing fit. Choosing to relish in the moment, you moved beside her and rested your head against her chest, enjoying the sound of her heartbeat and soft breaths. One of her hands smoothed along your side, drawing soothing circles, while the other rested on top of yours.

The way you'd play with me like a child..

She'd never felt so at peace, so at home than when she was with you. Your existence had opened something dormant within her, bringing all of her best features forward, bringing no fear to let all of her insecurities and doubts come to light , bringing a safeness into her life and having her find the comfort within her own skin that she had lost so long ago..

~~

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful..?

Her mind caught back up with her body, a deep insecurity flooding through her veins and making her heart feel heavy. The tears that had formed just before now fell freely down her face, dipping into every curve and crease her face had to offer. She let in a harsh breath at the realization, the air burning her ever closing lungs and making her quickly move to rub the tears away.

Channeling angels in the new age now..

There was a bittersweet feeling now locked with that memory. It was years ago, still filled with the same feelings she had during that trip, but that was when she was much younger.. and oh how time and age loved to display itself against her face..

All the ways..

The sound of her heavy office doors opening made her actions still, the familiar creek of the hinges and a stream of golden light filling the room behind her. You were quite at first, letting your eyes adjust to the barely lit room. Then, when your eyes focused on your lover, you nearly ran to her as worry consumed you.

I got to know..

Everything that was on your mind before this was long forgotten. Your movements slowed when you had gotten in front of her, your heels softly clicking against the floor as you took in her defeated state. You hadn't seen her like this in months, but it pulled on your heart strings all the same. Your lover was hurting..

Your pretty face and electric soul..

Her eyes were glossy, a shine coming off them as the sliver of moonlight twinkled against the unfallen tears. Her fingers moved between each other, wringing and smoothing against her own skin as her nerves made their way in. Her shoulders were slumped, but there was still a tenseness found in her form. Even in a moment like this she was the most beautiful being you had ever seen, but your heart ached seeing her in such pain.

Will you still love me..

You lifted your hand up slowly, as if a normal movement would scare her, and wiped a tear away from her face, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind her ear after you did so. You turned her chin, making her look at you for the first time since you'd arrived, and met her gaze with all your concern shining in your eyes.

When I got nothing..

You moved your hand away and allowed her a moment to ground herself. Her head tilted to the side a bit in confusion as she looked at you, for she couldn't understand why, in the state she was in, that you still looked at her as though she had hung all the stars. It caused more tears to fall from the sapphire goddess, each drop and each heavy breath breaking her walls down more and more.

But my aching soul..

Your body moved without your knowledge, bringing yourself closer to the blonde as she openly wept before you. Moments in which she cried were rare, so the scene before you ate you up with worry, digging into your bones and gnawing at your flesh as your mind raced with the sight of her.

Dear Lord..

You knelt down in front of her, your hands meeting her knees and rubbing against the cold skin exposed there. You moved them up with each circle, bringing her back to you with every second that passed. You leaned in slowly, placing a soft kiss against each of her knees to let her know that you were there when she was ready.

When I get to Heaven..

She looked down at you, her tears coming to a halt as your expression took her breath away. Your brows were furrowed, eyes moving between her own in distress, your body rocking softly as your touch gave her the warmth and comfort she so badly craved.

Please let me bring my man..

She leaned forward, her hands coming to rest on top of yours, as she readied herself to speak, to voice out the demons that plagued her mind. Her gaze faltered as she spoke, not finding the confidence in herself to fully face the reality of her mind. "Age can be terrible thing to face in all its physicality.."

When she comes, tell me that you'll let her in..

You took a breath in at her words, truly understanding the exact place that her mind was in. You turned your hands over, thumbs smoothing over each of her knuckles as you thought of what you could say. You were going through the same thing, time showing it's common signs against your features, and you found comfort within it. But it never got rid of the heaviness of looking back on who you once were, what you once looked like before the weight of age took you in its hold.

"But it's a sign that you lived.. And isn't that something beautiful within itself? Oh, what a privilege it is to live.." You shook you head while saying the last bit, removing you gaze to glimpse out the window before landing sparkling eyes back onto your wife, knowing that you would get to spend the rest of your days living with her.

Father, tell me if you can..

Your words shocked her, the softness and sincerity within your voice making her feel as though she could breathe, taking away the heaviness of the ocean found within her lungs. She had lived.. Through every up, passed every down, she had the privilege to have moments where she felt so undeniably human like this one.. More importantly, she had lived with you..

All that grace, all that body..

She broke her gaze away, shaking her head as she turned to face the window. "I'm not perfect-"

"I don't want perfect.. I want you.." She snapped her head back in your direction, taking in the tears forming in your eyes, acknowledging the small tremble of your bottom lip, understanding the pain that both of your hearts felt under the moonlight..

She's my sun, she makes me shine like diamonds..

"We are so brave that sometimes we forget that we can suffer.." You brought her hands up to your lips after you spoke, placing soft kisses against the backs of each of her hands before settling closer to the blonde. The love you held for each other ran so deep in the simplest forms but never failed to evolve and make you both fall for each other all over again. "We're lucky enough to have each other to fall back on, to have the other help pick up the pieces when we are inevitably broken down.."

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful..?

"You make me feel like I am strong enough to rebuild the parts of me that have been broken…" Her voice was weak, somewhere lost in the plane of pitiful yet worthwhile existence. It cracked and broke as the words came out, translating the beginning of the slow rebuild that we all faced as time slipped from us.

Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul..?

"You are strong.. in every aspect of the word. And this," you gestured your hand towards her in this state, "doesn't lessen that, love.. I think it's even more powerful and admirable that you are allowing yourself to feel and work through these things.. To be so vulnerable and face that is to be strong.."

I know you will..

You brought yourself back to your feet, settling between her legs to keep your close proximity as you hands smoothed up her body. You cupped her face in your hands, bringing your lips to every wrinkle, each side of crows feet, each smile line, every sign of life that had made its existence known against her face. You ended it off with a gentle kiss to her forehead, appreciating the smile that lifted to her lips as her hands rested against your hips.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful..?

Your thumbs wiped over her cheeks, drying her tears away, and you loved how she rested against your fingertips, her own love and trust forever being shown to you. Her eyes fluttered shut for just a moment, true peace meeting her once again and reminding her of the highs that always followed the lows. Your eyes met hers, moving between them both as you held the heaviest weight of all your emotions within your words. "I love you.."

Will you still love me..

The words ran so deep through her veins that she was grounded within the moment, her soul seeping into each word as though she had heard them escape your lips for the first time. Her hands wrapped around your wrists, fingers flattening against the backs of your hands.

When I'm not young and beautiful..

There was nothing but undying love and admiration swirling within your eyes, something that shook her to her core and made her soul once again dance with yours along the sand of a memory. There was no more doubt, no more worry found within her after the display of the love you held for her. She was your brightest star in the sky, and that truth was made known to her time and time again.

"I love you too.." She finally said, her mind catching up to reality as she brought herself up to her feet. Your hands slid down her shoulders, smoothing out the fabric of her dress before they met her back, pressing her into you.

“You’re beautiful, my love.. I love living with you..” She melted into you as you did her, her head coming to rest against your shoulder as her breath kissed the crook of her neck when you spoke. The silence that followed was a comfortable one, any and all tension from the previous emotions disappearing with the no longer evident sun.

The safety the she felt in your arms consumed her, your hearts coming face to face as your chests pressed against each other, the feeling of home taking over you both as you stood there. The love that was felt was one to be had for an eternity, making the existence of all else kneel before it.

There is a beauty in living - traces of it found within everything human, everything broken, and everything built back up and loved again..

~~

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: UMMM?? THIS MADE MY HEART HURT MANNNNN COME ON

baby girl larissa deserves the world i swear she needs all the love she can get

found some time! worked on this request just in time for Gwen's birthday!! Happy Birthday Gwendoline Christie <33 I hope she knows just how much she means to all of us and just how much of an impact she's made on all of our lives. she's truly amazing and i'll forever be thankful for having such brilliant and beautiful inspiration in my life AND for the community she unknowingly created.

I made her some art ! You can find it here

I was definately inspired by the way she speaks in this.. Her words are so beautiful and so well put together that they're so powerful and always strike something within me.

I hope you enjoyed this one, anon :) It was really really nice to write

x,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist) ask to be added, if you'd like xx

@weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou

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[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Self-Loathing and other wrong doings

Okay! This was requested by an Anon, and it is a modern twist on things with a chubby reader. Arthur's gonna help the reader with those nasty thoughts of hers, and he's gonna make things all better, as he typically does.

I'll have this linked on my modern masterlist once I'm done! and I hope you guys can enjoy this!

You'll have to excuse me, I have to find out where I put my tags list before I can actually tag y'all- just be patient with me if you can! I'll get back into the swing of it!

(Here's one of my Arthur Images from one of my playthroughs lmao)

Warnings: Smut, so 18+, self hate and similar themes, meaning negative thoughts, chubby reader, and female reader, modern AU. Fuck it I'm making arthur chubby too cause I can. I think that should be all!

let's get started!

You stare yourself down in the mirror, your hands placed against your stomach, looking at the way it pudged out, pushed out further than the rest of your body.

It wasn't flat, like it should have been. Perhaps if it was you'd hate yourself less. You had nice hips, and your upper half wasn't bad, but that stomach. It's what makes you upset. What makes you wonder why your amazing boyfriend was even with you in the first place.

Every time you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't ever manage to feel anything but distain for yourself. You always felt so massive.

You had no idea how Arthur could stand to look at you.

You'd planned on taking a shower, that's why you were in here in the first place, but you no longer had an interest in doing so. Your mind felt dark, your head heavy. You just felt...wrong. Uncomfortable in your own skin.

You quietly redress yourself and then leave the bathroom, shutting off the light and pulling the door shut as you head into the hallway of your home.

You make a beeline for your bedroom, thankful that your breakdown has come on a day off, rather than when you'd been at work.

Crawling into the bed feels better than standing, you pull the covers up to your chin, and lie on your side, curled into yourself, as the tears begin to fall.

Your head screams obscenities at you, talking poorly about yourself to you.

Calling you names that you'd already heard throughout your entire life.

"Fatass."

"Ugly"

"Lard on legs"

You weren't the ideal girl, not to anyone. Not even to yourself. Maybe Arthur was gonna text you one of these days and tell you how disgusting you were, and finally leave you, like you deserved.

The tears get heavier, falling down your face faster as the thought enters your mind.

Arthur was your everything, he meant the world to you. If he left you, what would become of you? You'd spiral without him. You know you would. Hell you were spiraling now, and he hadn't even said anything to you.

You're in the middle of wiping the tears on your face when your phone rings, vibrating on the mattress beside you. As if he knew you were thinking about him, his name flashes on the screen, Arthur, with a little heart next to it.

You sniffle and hope you won't sound too bad when you answer, and pick up the phone, turning on speaker phone.

"Hey darlin'! I jus' got outta work, I'm headed your way, figured since you were off I'd just swing by and stay the night with ya, so long as you don't mind."

"That's fine, Love." You answer, swallowing at the thought of him joining you. You'd have to pull yourself together.

"You alright? You sound like you've been cryin' Princess..."

"'M fine Art, just...thinkin'."

"Well, I'll be there in....fifteen minutes at the most, and we'll talk about whatever's botherin' you, I can't have ya cryin' on me now."

He chuckles, and it warms your chest, even over the phone he eases your senses, what would you do when he finally opened his eyes and realized what you looked like?

"Okay, I'll see you then Art."

"I love ya Sweetheart."

"I love you too."

He seems hesitant to hang up, but after a moment he does and leaves you in silence once again.

Your tears continue to come, no matter how much you try to get them to stop, they just keep coming.

Before you realize it, you hear the door open and the sound of Arthur's footsteps as he makes his way down the hall to your room.

He stands in the doorway, and looks at you, and when you turn your head to look at him the look on his face only makes your heart pang worse.

"Oh...Darlin' what are you cryin' for? What's goin' on?"

He wastes no time moving to the bed, kicking off his work boots before he climbs in and cradles you into his chest, and you expected it to comfort you, which, it did, however, you didn't expect to start crying harder.

"Hey now..."

He hushes you and you feel his hand come to your hair, gently petting your head, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

"Talk to me Princess...what's goin' on?"

You swallow and look up at him as your tears fall down your face.

"How can you love someone like me Arthur? Someone who looks like me, who...who's disgusting?"

Arthur looks back at you with a facial expression that you can only describe as...offended.

"The hell are you talkin' about woman?"

"How can you love me, when I look like this?"

"Y/N, what on earth do you mean?"

You huff and stand, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the bed. You drag him down the hall and into the bathroom. You flip the light switch on and look directly into the mirror.

"Look at me."

You mumble.

"Look at the way I'm shaped, the way my body looks. I'm not skinny, I'm not flat. I'm uneven, lumpy...disgusting. Why are you still here? Why haven't you left me and found someone who deserves you? Why are you still with me, when I'm nothing?"

Arthur's brow furrows and a frown covers his face as he looks in the mirror at your form. He turns and grabs your shoulders, forcing you too look at him.

"Y/N, what the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Why are you still here?"

"Because I wanna be! Cause I love ya damnit! I never wanna hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Never."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"The hell if you are."

His expression goes soft and he cups your face in his large palm.

"Y/N, you're absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous, a god damn treasure for me to behold everytime I see ya...I don't give a damn about the TV shows and the movies, or the magazines, flat stomachs ain't all that. I couldn't give two shits about whether or not someone has a flat stomach. In fact I PREFER, that you're bigger."

You look to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

"Darlin' look at me, I'm not small neither, ain't fit, I got a gut on me myself, but you're still around, why would I be any different?"

He was right. He's a large man, wide shouldered, barrel chested, and a bit of the stomach that hangs over his belt, but it suited him. Fit him well. He was strong too, as much as he would deny it, he was. His biceps were about the size of your head.

"Because...you look...normal."

You mumble.

"You look good, it fits good, you're big and strong, and I'm...just big. Fat, and flabby."

"No. Don't you dare call yourself fat."

You frown as you look at him, and then he slides his arms around your waist, turns you towards the mirror and stands behind you.

"I want you to see what I see in this mirror."

He pauses.

"I see my beautiful girlfriend, who, even with tears in her eyes manages to blow me away. She's soft, and welcoming, and absolutely adorable, I ain't never once looked at her and thought she was ugly, or unlovable, in fact the first time I laid eyes on her I felt like I was in love."

You swallow, looking at his face in the reflection.

"I see my girlfriend, who's got the sexiest hips I've ever seen anywhere. I see my beautiful woman, who's the sweetest, kindest, and most lovely person I've ever come across."

"I see the person I love, and the person I want to come home to everyday. The woman I'm HOPING, to marry someday, hoping to spend the rest of my life with, if she lets me."

You stay silent and tears seem to only get worse.

"Darlin' I love you. With all my heart."

He states, his voice quiet in your ear.

"I love how you look, how you sound, who ya are, everythin' about you makes me happy. I like that you're a bigger girl. I don't want you to be skinny. There's more for me to hold the way you are now, and I ain't gotta be gentle with you, I don't have to worry I'm gonna hurt you."

He leans in and kisses your shoulder, then your neck.

"Ain't never once cared about you bein' skinny, and I don't want you to be. I kiss that stomach o' yours everytime we're intimate. You know that. I love it, and I love you."

"I just...Arthur I...I hate me. I hate the way I look, I hate-"

"Darlin' you're breakin' my heart."

You turn and face him, looking up at him.

His eyes seem tired, almost broken as he looks back at you, sad.

"I love you."

He murmurs, bringing a hand to your chin to tilt your head up.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, even if you think I should, I ain't. I'm stickin' by you. What kinda man would I be if I let the best woman I've ever met slip outta my fingers?"

You simply hug him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you as your head hits his chest.

"I love you Princess."

"I love you Arthur."

He sighs and rests his chin on your head.

"What started all this anyhow?"

"I wanted to take a shower and...I...you know I saw myself naked."

"Sweetheart, I promise you, seein' you naked is my favorite part of anyday if I'm given the chance to see it."

You can't help but laugh a little, and wipe your eyes.

"You still need a shower?"

You give a nod.

"I'll join you, if you want. I need one myself, covered in oil and grease, and god knows what else."

"Will you please? I think I'll feel better with you there. I won't focus on how I look so much."

"Anythin' for ya Princess." He kisses your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of the way. "Stay here, I'll go back to your room and get you some pj's. You finally got all my stuff put into whatever drawer it is you wanted it in right?"

"Yeah, left side, the top two drawers."

"Alright, I'll grab our clothes and I'll be right back. Why don't you start the shower and grab the towels for us, okay?"

He leaves and heads back to your room, and you feel a bit better, more hopeful. Your chest is lighter, so is your head, and you even smile as you turn the shower on.

He was a wonderful man. He deserved the world, and you'd gladly give it to him, given the chance.

You find two towels easily and place them on the counter before you strip down and get into the shower, pulling the curtain shut.

The water is hot, but not hot enough to burn, and you again smile as the water hits your skin.

You hear the sound of the door opening and Arthur drops off the clothes on the counter. You listen as he shimmies out of his clothes and then you hear the curtain open from the other end.

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body to yours, offering a kiss to your bare shoulder.

"See...this ain't so bad."

"It's not bad when you're here."

He chuckles and it rumbles through you, just as it rumbles through him.

"You are beautiful, inside and out."

He whispers, kissing your cheek.

"I'm gonna have you admitting it, I will. I ain't gonna let you sit here and hate yourself. I can't do that."

"Good luck on that Hon."

"I will get you to say it."

He states, this time it's firm, less playful.

"I ain't gonna let you sit here and say all these awful things about yourself anymore."

He kisses your neck again, this time there's a difference in the way his lips feel against your skin.

It's more...possessive, marking.

"Arthur..."

"If ya won't believe my words maybe I can prove it to ya...if you're alright with that..."

You think for a moment, but it doesn't take long for you to decide.

You nod, and twist your head to kiss him on the cheek.

"You sure?"

You nod again.

"Yes Arthur. I'm sure. I want this."

He nods and again kisses your neck, again it's bruising, you know the skin there will be a purple hue.

His hands travel over the skin of your stomach, gentle, loving. His thumbs move back and forth against the skin there, hoping to reassure you.

His hands travel lower, caressing your thighs as he kisses your shoulders, mumbling under his breath about how much he loves you.

His right hand finds it's way towards your heat, he's gentle, two fingers slipping past your folds as he murmurs in your ear.

Your heart speeds as you feel the familiar stretch of his fingers.

"Arthur..."

"You deserve to feel good Princess..."

He kisses your cheek again, fingers curling within you. You feel his hardness against your rear, it's obvious it doesn't take much when he's with you.

The showerhead rains down on the two of you, adding to the sensation.

Arthur's fingers never stop moving, moving gently, slowly. He's in no rush. In fact he's doing his utmost to take all the time in the world with you.

He rocks his hips against you, just barely. Trying to help himself as he helps you.

It's sweet, in a way.

It's a long while before his hand even dares reach for your clit, and when it does, he seems to know exactly what to do, exactly how fast or slow to move, what direction to move.

He's been with you long enough to know.

That too is sweet.

You can't help but mumble his name over and over again as he continues with his way, a smile on his face as he moves his hips against you, his hand in tandem.

It feels like forever passes before you finally come upon your climax, quietly moaning out his name as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

It's slow, but it's just as good as it would have been otherwise.

He never stops kissing you, or telling you how he loves you.

He's more than what you could have asked for,

[cyb-by-lang]

I kinda already commented and it felt weird to do it again? So I thought I’d ask here instead:

I just saw a post on tumblr that Batman did try to kill Joker and Superman stopped him??? And it was because Joker was somehow linked with Iran, and couldn’t be killed cuz it would start a war. And other Batkids also tried to kill Joker???

I’ve honestly always thought Batman didn’t kill Joker cuz he’s too popular a villain so it was just sort of waved off because of ‘Batman rules’ and publication reasons.

Is Batman almost killing Joker included in your fic? I have very little knowledge of the comics and hearing about newer versions overwriting previous stories makes me even more confused.

Congrats to you for having unlocked a secret level of rambling through deciding to send an ask rather than a comment. This would totally have ended up on AO3 below your comment. :p

And it is going below the cut because it's long as hell.

The scenario you've heard about was from the original run of A Death in the Family, which is the story arc where Jason was killed back in the 80s. In the aftermath of Bruce finding Jason dead (and Jason's birth mother dying shortly thereafter), he hunts for the Joker after realizing that the warehouse explosion didn't, in fact, kill the clown. Somehow (racism!) the Joker ends up being appointed as the Iranian ambassador to the UN. This was later retconned to the fictional country of Qurac, because even DC realized that was a step too far. In the scene after that fun little reveal, Superman is on hand to try and keep shenanigans to a minimum, the Joker predictably tries to gas the entire UN assembly chamber anyway, and then flees via helicopter. Batman, who has been trailing along this entire time in a rage, pursues.

He's planning to kill the clown. Superman, for reasons related to "we don't whack ambassadors and start wars," has been holding him back for the arc thus far. Helicopter pursuit turns into a helicopter fight, during which the Joker's henchman fires a spray of bullets that kills the pilot while everyone is on board and having a bad time. Batman exits the aircraft alive, intact, and furious, and doesn't give a single shit if the Joker died when the chopper hit the sea.

And then a month later the fucking clown comes back again like nothing happened. Only the entire setting has undergone a serious tone shift since Jason's death, which means you're gonna see a lot heavier, dramatic stories that have more significant body counts. Batman cannot get over the death of his son, because no, and eventually Tim Drake pops up in the middle of that death spiral with a hypothesis: "Batman needs a Robin."

He's not wrong.

He also doesn't go about it super gracefully, including an attempt to convince Dick to come back to the Robin mantle that goes nowhere, but eventually he convinces the Dark Knight to take on a third Robin. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim is locked the fuck down for training and not allowed out in the field willy-nilly. And when he does go out, he is ferociously competent.

Incidentally, this is because the writers/editors realized that after the child murder storyline they'd just done, Batman had to have one hell of a reason to ever take on another kid sidekick. And they needed to try and drag the Robin role's popularity back up, since killing a kid sidekick was also a symptom of DC's tanking sales at the time; the whole thing was ultimately a publicity stunt. It was a bad idea and now we just live with it.

So Tim is, broadly, never portrayed as incompetent in any aspect aside from maybe high school socializing. I don't think he gets kidnapped even a tenth of the number of times Dick did during his decades-long career as Robin. Certainly never falls for a honey trap plot or anything like that.

But yeah, the meta reason why the Joker never dies is because he's an iconic villain who drives plots. But unless you step out of the main continuity, he's also never just been a "no-frills funny" villain since.

ANYWAY.

As far as the rest of the Batfam taking a swing at the Joker, there's one incident that I can recall off the top of my head.

Dick Grayson, currently Nightwing, wasn't especially close to Jason while he was alive. During Jason's original run, they had a cordial (if brief) relationship, but they basically didn't get any storylines together, so it's hard to really tell how strongly they bonded. After Jason died, Dick began experiencing...I wanna call them chronic night terrors. The idea is that a boy in a Robin costume is falling, and falling, and Dick can never save the kid.

I'm sure it has nothing whatsoever to do with his dead brother, no sir.

So, some time later, the Joker gets told he has terminal cancer by a psychiatrist who assumes that if the clown was convinced he was going to die, he might try reforming or something. A terminal turnaround. Lots of people do that, right?

He assumed wrong.

The Joker goes on an utter tear, doing all sorts of escalating villainy that starts with gassing everyone he can get his hands on, including other Arkham inmates. Somewhere amid this rampage, Robin III goes missing and the Joker cheerfully tells Nightwing that yeah, he killed the kid. And he has the gall to bring up Jason in the middle of all the gloating. By name. (The Joker knows Jason's name due to some nonsense involving Crane and Fear Toxin hallucinations and Batman in a prior story arc.)

And Dick

fucking

SNAPS.

Pummels the Joker right there on the floor. Barehanded. No sticks, no pausing, just beats him to death.

Two seconds later, a very alive (if hurt) Tim manages to get there and go "oh god what happened." Because Dick is not doing well! He has a crisis about killing a dude, no matter how terrible. He never thought he'd go that far.

Batman swoops in and resuscitates the clown. In the time between Jason's death and The Joker's Last Laugh, he has apparently decided that it's more important to keep Dick from suffering a breakdown than it is to kill the clown. DC editorial was gonna keep him alive either way, but whatever.

And now for the third part of my ramble.

As for Under the Red Hood, Jason's death is seriously streamlined for the film. In this version of events, none of the UN chicanery happens. Ra's al Ghul hires the clown for a distraction job while trying to crash the world economy (again) and whoops, the clown killed Batman's son. Crowbar, bomb, whatever. Before Jason's body can be buried, the League of Assassins steals it, hucks Jason into the Lazarus Pit, and now he's alive again!

Except, given how he died and how long he spent dead and how that interacts with the magic, he wakes up as a berserk ball of rage and pain, kills two of Ra's al Ghul's guards with his bare hands, escapes, falls into a river, and disappears.

...So much for making that whole thing up to Batman. The League of Assassins just quietly lets Bruce bury a latex dummy and doesn't ever bring it up.

Cut to Gotham, years later, when Red Hood is tearing up the place and Batman goes "Ra's al Ghul, what the fuck" and the whole story comes spilling out.

In A Ninja's Guide to Gotham, Jason's dropped hints in his narration that he was actually with the League of Assassins for a while, even before going 'round the world training with assassins and stuff. The Lazarus Pit just got him back to full functionality. So, you can assume it leans more on the comics' "spontaneous resurrection" scenario.

If Bruce ever tried to kill the Joker while Jason was dead, Jason doesn't know about it. And because we haven't been in Bruce's head, there's no indication either way.

(Bruce makes mention of how easy it would be kill the Joker in the film, but that he could never come back from doing so. It is not specified if he made the attempt or just thought about it a lot.)

I've been holding back on Jason's and Bruce's accounts of events because they're both owed a moment of dramatic catharsis (and shouting). You can generally rest assured that it'll be more likely to be a mix of events than a pure account of any one take on what happened in the warehouse that day.

Thanks for setting off an exposition bomb~

[sorrybutthisonestaken]

The one and only spider-woman pt.2

Dead captains

Authors note: this is only part two because I have yet to write something between last time and this even. If any of you have prompts or ideas for any in between pt.1 and 2 or even for afterwards please send them I would be glad to write them!

Of course a crazy Karen with an octopus suit and a god complex just had to come and ruin my perfectly good Tuesday! When I say customer service is underpaid this is exactly what I mean.

She throws me against the concrete pillar of the parkade with one of her metal tentacles. The impact hard enough to cue a ringing in my ears for a few seconds. I shake it off quickly, dodging the next blow that just so happened to be aimed straight at my head.

"Qué te pasa lady? Someone spit in your tacos? I tease, dodging her arms and swinging around her for confusion. I also have to find a weak link in her design. Once I find that, all I have to do is target it and make sure she doesn't get up again.

"You little brat! You're not getting away from me!" Doc OC warns. It almost makes me sniger. I have been the one chasing her down for the past three weeks and now I'm the one getting away from her? Ha!

"Then come and get me pendejo!"

I try to keep the fighting away from the people fleeing. They don't need to get hurt in this. This is between me and the crazy lady. Sirens going off in the distance eases my mind a bit. At least Papà will be able to help everyone get out of here safely. And that's a good thing because when I slam this puta into the column in an attempt to pin her down, it cracks.

A resonating sound that both gives me an idea and sends a chill down my spine. I just have to make sure this place is evacuated before executing said plan.

"Hey lady what if we play a game shall we?" I joke, pining two of her metal arms to the ceiling with my webs. She positively growls as she swings at me with the other two. "It's called touch and go, more commonly known as tag!"

A quick glance downwards shows Papà helping the last of the civilians out of here. Just give him a little bit more time. All he needs is a couple more minutes.

I swing around, kicking the lady as she goes for me as well. Just a little bit longer. I jump off of one of the columns and body slam the doc right in the chest, making her topple over and to the floor. Her metal arm reaches for a pillar.

A deafening crack as it rips the concrete just to swing the hardened rock at my head. I narrowly avoid it, but her plan of comiting homicide is the least of my problems.

A kid. I can hear the crying. I try to look around to find them without getting too distracted but it's nearly impossible. A tentacle wraps around my waist and I am thrown through the air. I hit something very solid and another crack rips through the air. Then a rumble. Toned low and menacing.

Oh shit.

The ceiling begins to fall in on itself and I prepare for the worst, runing towards the ongoing sound of a panicked child in the hopes of being able to get to them in time before this entire structure buries us alive. But someone gets to them first. I only get a glimpse of the shiny captain's badge before a big chunk of the ceiling pins me to the floor.

I can't tell what's up or what's down. My vision is worse than when I still needed my glasses. I can barely register the sound of pattering fading away. My head feels light, and heavier than my backpack filled with textbooks all at the same time. I can barely breathe.

I turn my head to the right. Doc OC lays under the rubble. Her tentacles crushing her body, seemingly having attempted to stop anything from crushing her first. At least I don't have to worry about her ever getting back on he feet again. It's when I turn to the left when my heart drops.

His hand is sprawled out to the side and his body limp against the unforgiving stone. Papà looks unconscious. I refuse to believe he is anything worse than that, knocked out by the blow.

The will to get over there, confirm that he is still alive, it drives me. Adrenaline courses my veins and brings unknown strength. I yell out in retaliation, using all of my power to lift this concrete off of my back. My entire body shakes with the effort, but little by little I succeed. First comes the crawling position, which turns into a lunge, and that gives me enough room to shove the enormous weight off of my shoulders.

I don't give myself time to feel tired. My legs carry me exactly where I need to be, and I find myself kneeling by his side in a heartbeat. There is a wound on his chest, but I can hear his jagged breathing. A relieved chuckle escapes me as I begin to shake him.

"Papà- come on papà wake up" I urge. My shaking becomes more frantic the longer he takes to wake. He can't die, not here and definitely not now. "come on papà just look at me".

A groan leaves his lips and he begins to stir. I don't think I've ever felt this happy in my life. The moment is only dampened by him panicking slightly when his eyes lock onto my mask. He tries to push me away in a panic.

"Hey no papà it's me!" I plead. I rip the stupid mask off of my head with one hand as my other reaches for his. His eyes widen and he looks at me differently than he ever has.

"N-noa?" He croaks. I nod vigorously, pushing him down when he tries to sit up. I can tell he's in pain and I need him to hold on until first responders arrive.

"Yeah it's me"

"But- how?- it's been you the whole time?"

I take his hand in mine, gripping it tightly without hurting him.

"I promise I'll explain everything when we get home" I bargain. "I didn't tell you because of what happened with tio Gabriel and- please just hold on. I'll tell you everything I promise".

He cups my cheek with his hand. He looks at me. And I mean really looks, as if truly seeing me for the first time. He brushes a strand of hair or of the way and behind my ear. A soft smile tugs on his features.

"Mija- preciosa-". He groans trying to sit up again.

"Hey hey hey take it easy papà" I warn. He chuckles, holding onto his chest. He must have broken a rib or something.

"Siempre acuérdate lo que te he enseñado". He takes my hands in his. I watch in shock, not wanting to believe what he's saying. He can't be saying goodbye. "ten siempre cuidado. Take care of yourself and never let anyone tell you what you can't and can do. You are stronger than anyone believes, even yourself".

A violent cough tears through his system and I can't help but notice the slightest bit of blood. The paramedics are taking too long. What is taking them so long!

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!" I cry out. My breathing erratic as the ultimatum starts running out.

"Mija- no tengas miedo. I'm always going to be with you one way or another" papà assures me. I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest.

His grip loosens. I can no longer hear his heartbeat. His chest goes completely still. My eyes fly open and I sit up faster than my brain can process. Desperately I look for a pulse. He can't be gone he just can't be.

"No no no no no papà come on!"

He doesn't wake. His eyes closed almost peacefully as if he were only sleeping. I can feel his blood running colder and colder the more time passes. I don't even notice the tears falling like waterfalls until it become impossible to properly see with how blurry my vision is becoming.

A sob wracks through my entire body. I lay my head back down on his chest and just let it happen. All the pain escaping through any way it can. Rivers stain my cheeks. Sombre roars make my throat run dry.

The crying sounds so foreign to my ears. Never have I let myself go so much, even when tio was killed. This is a different kind of pain. He was my Papa. he was the first one to hold me when i was born. He was the one that made me feel safe when lightning scared me as a kid. He was the one that truly was always there for me, and now i know he would have forgiven me if i had just told him. If i had just told him maybe he would have trusted me to get to the kid and saved himself instead.

Canon even completed

The sound is muted but the yellow tinted hologram shows all that Miguel needs to know. He regrets not being able to do anything, but he knows the consequences of intervening. It would destroy my universe and he would have to watch me disappear all over again.

Translations:

Qué te pasa?: what's wrong with you?

Pendejo: asshole

Papà: dad

Mija: daughter

preciosa: precious

Siempre acuérdate lo que te he enseñado: always remember what I've taught you

ten siempre cuidado: always stay/be safe

no tengas miedo: don't be scared

[jackie-gremlin-ghost]

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He doesn’t remember exactly the how or why he wound up in that drab office that day. He does remember what his senses told him when he first arrived there, though.

The first thing he remembers is what he felt.

There was a sudden itchy and constricting feeling all over him, which made him inwardly shudder. He was quick to tug and kick away at it until he made sure all of it was off of him. Why people wore something as binding and uncomfortable as clothing was beyond him.

The fabric between his fingers as he tied on his cape was worn, but surprisingly soft. Almost like a security blanket. It weighed surprisingly light on his shoulders as he straightened himself, taking a deep breath for what almost felt like the first time.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was on his head, but it somehow felt even itchier than the clothes did. Now that just wouldn’t do. He simply grabbed it and tossed it aside.

Then came the solid floor underneath his feet. The tiles were cold, but not uncomfortably so. It was also grounding in a sense. It reminded him that he was truly there... wherever “there” was.

A slight breeze brushed against his body, which he later noted came from an oscillating fan in a far corner of the room. Both this and the floor were a contrast to the warmth of the sun he felt on his back, even with his cape.

He found himself grinning at the combined grounding and warmth.

The next thing he became aware of were the sounds.

Something flapped and fluttered around him as he stood. It sounded too light and sharp to be the wings of a bird. Paper, most likely. There was a slightly heavier flapping as well, which he quickly realized was his cape due to the slight tug on his shoulders.

It’s one thing to feel your heart beating, it’s another to hear it. It pounded in his ears, strong and proud. He felt his grin widen a fraction at this.

He felt so light… so unburdened… so free. He felt so… so…

Alive.

He was alive.

Unbridled happiness bubbled up within him. And it was then that he finally heard his own voice, letting out a joyful and triumphant battle cry.

It was only until he heard a tiny gasp that he realized that his eyes were shut.

And when they finally opened, that’s when he saw them.

Two children were crouched down on the floor in front of him. Two boys, to be exact, who couldn’t be no older than ten.

One of them had darker skin than the other, his even darker hair cut in a short flat-top. He was wearing black shorts, a white collared shirt, and a red and yellow tie.

The other was a bit more casually dressed, sporting a green and white striped t-shirt with khaki shorts. Not to mention he had the wildest head of curly blond hair he’d ever seen.

They both looked up at him with matching expressions of shock, but he could also see the wonder that shone in their eyes.

“Captain Underpants?” the blond finally found his voice as they both stood. “Is that really you?”

He didn’t think it was possible to grin any more than he already had, but he did. They knew his name! A warm feeling of familiarity washed over him. Something about these two boys just felt right.

“Let’s see; Underpants?” he started, his tone a mix of confident and playful as he snapped his waistband. “Check. Captain?” He then gave a friendly salute. “Also check. I’m pretty sure I’m Captain Underpants.”

The two boys stared in awe for a moment, before meeting each other’s gaze and just about falling over laughing. His grin came back full force at that, to the points that his cheeks hurt. Their matching smiles and the harmony of their laughter warmed his heart in ways he couldn’t quite describe. These boys were adorable, plain and simple.

He made up his mind in that very instant.

“Which must make you my trusty sidekicks!” His smile softened as the boys went into another fit of overjoyed giggles.

George and Harold, something deep in the back of his mind— a memory, perhaps? —finally told him. Their names are George and Harold.

They were his sidekicks.

His friends.

And he promised himself at that moment that he’d do everything in his power to protect their joy, smiles and laughter.