#perhaps there are things he really cares about
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hearts4mica · 3 days ago
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Darling never grow up
Imagine l Jon looking up to Batsis like an older sister and her reciprocating and Damian not liking sharing his sister.
Platonic! Jon Kent and batsis
Masterlist
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——————————————————————————— The first time Jon went to the Wayne Manor was after school. Alfred drove them home to “do a proyect” to hang out.
The first time Jon met you was in the kitchen where you were grabbing some ice cream.
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You felt someone watching you, so you turned around expecting that someone to be Damian cause that person was silent but when you turned around-
It was a small child well not that small- a short child around Damian’s age.
He looked at you. He had big blue eyes, he was staring directly into your soul. Just like those people with blue eyes do, he had a baby face.
You had never seen him in your whole life.
“Hello there uhm what is your name hun?” You ask curiously.
Was he another child Bruce adopted?
“Im Jon! Damian’s bff- ‘BFF’ means Best Friend Forever if case you didn’t know!” He said excitedly.
Wow. He was a really extroverted kid quite the opposite of Damian he reminded you somehow to Dick. Big blue eyes, extroverted- maybe being extroverted was a rule to have blue eyes?
In Jon’s side well he had never met you before. He didn’t even know that Damian had an older sister! He only knew his brothers.
You blink you didn’t know Damian had friends. Not in a mean way obviously but he always seemed so closed about this subject.
“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Jon. Are you perhaps looking for Damian?”
“Nope just looking for water!” He answered happily.
“Oh well let me help you then”.
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In that moment Jon decided that he was adopting you as his older sister.
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Some time after Jon flew home, you went into Damian’s room.
He was laying down on his bed reading some random book he probably stole from Jason.
“Soo?” you ask with a small smile on your face
“So what?” [name] be specific.” He says in a bored tone not taking his eyes off his book.
“You have a friend! Dami you listened to my advice! Im soo happy for you” you throw yourself onto his bed and hug him.
He sighs annoyedly and hugs you back. You knew he wasn’t annoyed tho. He loved you as much as you loved him
“It’s not a big deal-“ “Yes it is Dami! Now tell me everything!”
“You’re as annoying as Grayson when he found out”
“So everyone already knew but me?!- oh! my poor heart!”
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The next time Jon came over was for a sleepover.
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There was a knock on the door. You were the closest to the door so you went to open it.
There was Jon wearing his superman pajamas holding a small plushie and a blanket, you let him into the Manor and welcome him.
You tell him that Damian is currently showering so he decides to hang out with you in the meantime.
“So how’s school Jon?”
“It’s really good! And everyone is nice and teachers teach well and- lunch is well eateable i guess” he starts rambling but you don’t mind he somehow reminds you of your brothers
“Im glad you like school” “Yeah me too!”
“Jon what are you doing here?” Damian walks into the room wearing his themed pajamas Dick bought for him.
“Oh im just hanging out with [name]! Telling her sbout school and teachers and food and work an-“
“yeah okay we get it Jon let’s go we have things to do” Damian grabs Jon’s hand and drags him to his room
“Bye [name]!” He frantically waves his hand goodbye.
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“Your sister is really nice Damian! I really like her!”
“Mhm”
“Why didn’t you tell me like ever you had a sister! We could share sisters?!- i mean i don’t have one but yeah why don’t you share?”
“Share? What?- No.”
“No what?”
“I am not sharing my sister Jon.”
“Why not?!” Jon pouts
“She is my sister get one yourself!”
“Sharing is caring!”
“I don’t care for you”.
“So not true! We are BFF’s”
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The next time he comes over to the Wayne Manor he brings you a small gift
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“Hello [name]! I made this for you!” He gives you a small bracelet that said ‘Sis KW’.
“What does Sis KW mean Jon?”
“It mean Sister Kent Wayne!”
“Oh?- That’s really cute Jon! Did you make it yourself?”
“Yes i did” he says seeming really proud of his creation.
“Sister Kent Wayne?!” Damian grabs the bracelet “Jon! she is my sister! Not yours you idiot!
“Damian don’t be rude! I already have 4 brothers 1 more wouldn’t make a big difference!.” Grabs the bracelet back. “Its a nice gesture. Thank you Jon i’ll definitely wear it.”
Jon smiles “Thanks [name] you’re the best!.”
“Jon . A word.”
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“You can’t give my sister a bracelet! And even less one that says Sister Kent Wayne! And you dare to put the W of Wayne on the second place! After Kent?!”
“Why not? It’s not like it says [name] Kent! I added Wayne there!”
“Because she is not your sister!”
“Three words! IDC!”
“Those are letters!”
“IDC!”
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Reposts, comments and likes are appreciated!
Requests are open!
Masterlist
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dumbsadlesbian · 2 days ago
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Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I have some things to say about this but after writing, it became a bit of a longer post. I’m unhinged about this, a bit sleep deprived, and I had too much coffee + my vyvanse, so…take that into consideration. I’m going to put the main text under a read more, but here’s a bit of what I talked about:
•Viktor and Singed’s conversation and elaborating on how Viktor said that Jayce will understand, and how Jayce truly did understand more than Viktor probably ever would’ve thought + more
•How I believe the story missed out on not having Jayce find out more about the shimmer experiments and Sky, + the interesting morality that could’ve happened with Jayce still putting Viktor in the goo if he HAD known more about what happened/what the hexcore was capable of
•How I believe Jayce would’ve still attempted to save Viktor had he known, and the implications of that— how his strong moral and ethical code + values would’ve been affected (the dual issue of backing out the moment he killed a kid on accident, even if he was shutting down drug operations vs him not caring that Viktor used shimmer and/or attempting to save Viktor using the hexcore that killed Sky, instead of destroying it).
•More discussion/theories on ifs, ands, and buts regarding the rest of their arcs in the story and more :)
This and (I do not remember the exact quoting and I can’t be arsed to find it rn) when Singed says that people/Jayce (?) might hate Viktor for (taking the shimmer), and Viktor responds “Jayce will understand.”
And upon Jayce’s “they’re dangerous!” outburst (zaunites), Viktor seems to reconsider and conceal his plans/actions (either wholly or more than he was going to originally— I personally believe Viktor was going to spitball the idea of shimmer usage in hextech experiments to at least some capacity, before this).
And then… Jayce really DID understand. Even more than Viktor would’ve originally thought. He understood to the point of committing arguably MORE ‘dubious’ methods than Viktor. I think a dichotomy that Arcane missed out on was if Jayce had found out beforehand. ESPECIALLY if he’d known about Sky’s death.
The moral dilemma Jayce would’ve had over his feelings towards him accidentally killing the kid versus (in my opinion) (while feeling sort of guilty, but mostly guilty over not caring enough to not do what I’m about to say) not batting an eye as much as one would assume one would over Sky dying IF it meant that Viktor lived/made progress/whatever.
I think the angst would’ve been absolutely delicious to see Jayce still attempt to save Viktor so desperately, resorting to using the hexcore when Viktor explicitly stated he wanted it destroyed, if Jayce knew about Sky and did what he did regardless.
I think that also would’ve made more sense for Viktor leaving (they’d had differences, yes, and I know Viktor was already under the influence of the hexcore at this point, but it still felt…weird for him to leave as he did.
Viktor viewed this as a betrayal, a huge break of boundaries, which is valid— but considering Jayce knew very little about what Viktor had been up to, and that he didn’t know what the hexcore was really capable of, I don’t think it is fair to place the blame on Jayce in regards to both things— just the boundary being broken. If I hand you a rock you’ve never seen before, and tell you it’s a bad rock but not why, and you keep it regardless— or you perhaps use it to smack open a lock you needed in to, whatever— and then I come back and I’m like “dude, what the fuck, that rock is radioactive!” It’s…not very fair, because I didn’t tell you HOW DANGEROUS the rock was. You know?
Anywho, it would’ve made more sense, in my honest opinion, for Viktor’s complete breakup, the MOMENT he hopped out of his goo, as well as just generally being more interesting + making more sense for Jayce’s arc if Jayce had known more about what the fuck was going on. I LOVE a pathetic wet dog who’s morally gray in a hypocritical way, it’s so fucking interesting, “no these things are bad” but also “well it’s fine if I do it for my loved one specifically, right?”
Also, Viktor dipping out was a bit strange to me because, while it’s clear that Jayce was the piece of the puzzle that was make or break for all of the timelines regarding the outcome of Viktor, I do think it would’ve been relatively easy to manipulate Jayce into being morally gray with Viktor. He’s already shown his willingness to through ethics and morals to the wind for Viktor in some capacity— though he also has shown himself to realize this, strengthen those morals and ethics, and do what needs to be done…
HOWEVER, if, in Jayce’s fragile emotional headspace of losing, and then being in limbo, and then getting Viktor back, Viktor had milked that? I definitely think Jayce could’ve been whatever Viktor wanted. If Jayce hadn’t had space alone to mull things over, having just lost your loved one makes you very hesitant to lose them again in any capacity. I can completely see Jayce pushing his own way of thinking aside if it meant being able to still enjoy Viktor’s company.
Though this is manipulative, yes, we all can grasp that, it’s still a very intriguing concept. The way the hexcore manipulated Viktor (look around for the discussions and theory on his eyes going a bit gold again when it’s more ‘him’ if you haven’t already) and made him see things how it wanted him to see things?
It would make sense to take something that was a danger (Jayce) to you (the hexcore) and make it into your weapon— making sure it can’t be wielded against you, and instead, you wield it. By slowly dipping Jayce’s toes into the warm pot and turning up the flame, until it’s too late (or he’s happy to, because it’s what Viktor wants) to get out of the boiling water. Potentially, I could even see hexcore influenced Viktor pushing this ‘transformation’ slash indoctrination upon Jayce more efficiently by dangling his companionship over Jayce’s head. “If you don’t do it, I’ll get someone else too.” “No, please, I can do it, I promise.” “If you’re not okay with this, maybe it’s best if I do it myself.” “No, please, I can do better, stay with me.”
Jayce clearly was a powerful person, AND weapon, across many timelines. I completely believe that in at least one, Viktor would utilize that. And the way that scratches my brain? Scrumptious. Jayce is so wet dog coded. He may be dressed up, the man of progress, but underneath it all we’ve seen that it’s easy enough to reduce him to a stray on the street. You let him in, feed him some scraps, and soon enough he’ll guard your house and you with his life. He’s yours. You don’t even have to let him sleep on the bed, no (but if you did, well…). You just scratch behind his ears a bit and the moment you say “good boy”, he’s basically already mentally sorted himself into the category of ‘yours’.
I think, in that sort of situation, Jayce would see himself as Viktor’s, in the sort of way where it’s like, he’s not just someone who’s ride or die for Viktor— he is an extension of Viktor himself. He’s not Viktor’s little errand boy, even if he’d happily run errands if asked. No, Jayce isn’t just someone who’d do Viktor’s dirty work. It’s deeper than that. Jayce is the sword sheathed on Viktor’s hip. Wielded by him, dirtied by him, just as much as he is also cleaned and polished. An extension and executor of Viktor’s will. Just a piece of metal without someone to hold him. Sharp and dangerous when used, but harmless when sheathed, yet a symbol of power and intimidation and a threat of violence either way.
So…maybe this got out of hand. And it’s NOT very concise. That being said, I can refine this later, whatever, I just had to get my messy thoughts out. I’m actually feral over Viktor and Jayce and all of the potentials they could’ve had 🫶
“why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable?”
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“for love.”
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huginsmemory · 2 days ago
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Really can't get over the CAN WE TALK? stickynotes. And I mean I think part of it really kinda clicked when I've seen some fanart about it. We really see in TBOB that Ford after beginning to hear voices slipping through the cracks and questions Bill, to learn what Bill really intended, ENTIRELY shuts down his communication with Bill. And you see Bill when he gets questioned in that moment responds with a heavily implied dialogue along the lines of "haha, yeah I tricked you, I'm here to overtake your dimension". But Bill still expects Ford to respond to him in some way, and it's very clear that Bill is shocked when Ford REFUSES to talk to him. And what's interesting is Bill doesn't just IMMEDIATELY begin with threats; he actually leaves stickynotes first, before Bill realizes he's FUCKED UP big time and gets really nasty. There's something pleading with the CAN WE TALK? sticky note. There's a point where Bill does realize he's not getting what he expected, that he's missing Ford, and that he's willing to possibly even smooth some things over, explain things better (maybe even the part that the nightmare dimension is unraveling perhaps) or persuade Ford into Bill's plans. But Ford refuses, and it's already too late for Bill because just like with Stan, Ford feels betrayed and when Ford feels betrayed he'll mercilessly cut the person out of his life. Ford deeply, deeply holds hurt and betrayal and as a result he has zero desire to speak with Bill again (and also uhhh big red flag to take over the world, so also. Yeah).
And it's interesting because it's a slower ramp up until Bill is desperate and threatens, uses violence, because that's what he's always used when it comes down to it, and an ultimatum is given. It wasn't just threats out of the gate; Bill DID try to speak to Ford (btw this is not me being like Ford should have spoken to Bill and it would be magically healthy, cause no matter how you slice it it's just a toxic mess tbh). Threats out of the gate would have been faster; there's over three weeks in the timeline, before Ford goes through the portal (althought we don't get too much context around exactly when everything occurs). That's a lot of time! But Bill didn't threaten Ford immediately. And I think part of that reason is because Bill expected Ford to speak to him, expected their relationship or at least their project to mean enough to Ford that Ford would speak to him and then continue their work, once his anger cooled off. And I think also part of it is because Bill cared about Ford, not that he'd admit it in the moment; but he'd rather Ford willingly be alongside him, then have to force him through threats to do the work on the portal. You see that, even after Ford spends 30 years trying to kill him and nearly even does, when he offers him during wierdmageddon to be a henchmaniac. Bill cares about Ford, wants Ford beside him. But then Ford continues to refuse to engage with him at all, and Bill realizes he's lost Ford, and progressively gets more desperate and angrier as he's still refused, and falls into the violence he usually uses, to get Ford to cooperate.
Anyhow it's one of those things that you wonder what would've happened if they DID speak, but that would ultimately be defying a big part of who Ford is... So in a way it's a juicy juicy tidbit to chew on, the implications beyond the writing on the sticky note.
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glamourscat · 1 day ago
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hii hope you are well! I was wondering if you can do a fic about rin (from blk) first time with reader and it’s really soft and new to him if not that’s okay! Thank you byee<33
FIRSTs | RIN ITOSHI X READER
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a/n: I am extremely sorry for the wait. Classes are kicking my butt. I hope you like it, I tried to give it a bit of a “twist”. | smut at the end |
Rin wasn’t even sure why he was here. Truly, he hated all of them. Okay, maybe hated was a strong word. Perhaps saying he held grudges against some, if not all of them, was a more appropriate fit.
He had never been good at expressing himself, at opening up. In fact, in his entire life, only one person had ever managed to break through that barrier and that was Sae. But then he left. And for some obscure reason, you managed to do it too. With your kindness and resilience, you never stopped showing him that you cared, putting him in his place when necessary. And that only made him more drawn to you.
But back to the main issue. Camping.
It was summer and he had just returned to Japan from his football season. Coincidentally, his ex-Blue Lock… friends? No, scratch that, nuisances, were also back in Japan and had organized this big camping trip with everyone and their respective partners.
He could hear Reo in the background huffing at Nagi, who was refusing to help set up their tent. Bachira… well, being Bachira. And the others were being loud as usual. His eyes found yours, a silent plea of Can we please make a run for it?
You chuckled quietly as you met his gaze.
“C’mon—you dragged me here to begin with. It’s going to be okay,” you teased, though your tone held gentle reassurance.
“But—” he huffed, pouting. “They’re already getting on my nerves.”
“Rin, we literally placed our tent as far away as possible from the others. We are almost in the river. It’s going to be fine. If you get a migraine, we can leave, kay?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He mumbled a quiet okay, or at least, you thought he did. As he turned his face away, unwilling to show you the way his cheeks flushed red at the light contact of your lips.
Eventually the tent was finally set up. By the time everything was settled, it was already late. After having dinner together, everyone went their separate ways to their respective tents.
Your eyes flicked to Rin’s figure as he changed, his green eyes meeting yours with a hidden glint of amusement.
“Take a picture,” he said smugly, though he made no effort to hide the way your gaze affected him.
“I’m not staring,” you huffed, slightly flustered as you continued putting on your pajamas.
“Sure you weren’t,” he said, amused, as he settled under your shared sleeping bag.
He wasn’t exactly sure how it happened.
One moment, it was you grumbling, “You’re taking up all the space,” and him biting back, “No, I’m not.” The back and forth went on for some time until, somehow, he ended up on top of you, both of you panting after an intense tickling session. Your lips were still curled into a smile, but then the position you found yourselves in fully sank in.
It wasn’t like… you two hadn’t done anything before. But it had never gone this far. Yet here he was, straddling your lap, his messy hair falling into his eyes, his breath unsteady. And then there was the other thing. The painfully obvious erection pressing against your core.
“Oh,” you let out quietly, your eyes searching his.
“I—I’m sorry,” he gulped, trying to move away, but you stopped him.
“No—I mean… we—if—” You sighed, embarrassed. “I don’t… mind. We can… you know.”
“You sure?” he whispered, his throat suddenly dry.
“More than sure,” you whispered back with a soft smile.
Yeah, no. You hadn’t anticipated having your first time in a tent, much less on a camping trip with Rin’s so-called archenemies a few feet away. Maybe putting the tent so far away had been a sign.
His lips found yours as you both tried to stay quiet, swallowing each other’s moans. His hands cupped your cheeks, his cock rubbing along your slit, sending shivers down your spine.
“I—I… just tell me if it hurts, okay? I’ll stop—just… I want to make you feel good. I have no idea what I am doing, just— I just want to make you happy,” he murmured against your lips.
With a reassuring smile and a nod from your end, his tip slowly pushed in, parting your wet folds. A gasp left your guys lips at the unfamiliar sensation. Heavens. He was already and embarrassingly close. He looked at the top of the tent, trying and desperately failing, to think about anything else but how perfect you fit around him. He took his time, moving with slow, careful thrusts. Your tummy felt warm. As something was ready to explode. And then an involuntary moan escaped you.
“Good?” he asked, his voice huskier now, fighting back an amused smile.
“Yes—fuck. Yes,” you nodded, your hands gripping his back, pulling him closer as his movements started matching yours. Slightly faster, deeper.
The tent filled with quiet gasps, muffled moans, and the sound of skin meeting skin. It was intense in the best way. He was so soft with you, tracing his fingertips along your skin, kissing your neck, whispering how much he loved you. And you were pretty sure he was almost in tears as he finished, that’s how good it was. Not to mention the obscene moan that left his lips, such a sweet melody to your ears.
It was trust. Two souls melting into one in the most primal way. As he kept moving, pushing deeper, slower, faster. He was getting lost in the feeling of his cock in between your warm walls, struggling to keep silent. And lowkey cursing himself for waiting until now to do it, especially location wise.
He didn’t know much, but he did know he wanted this again and again. This feeling, this closeness, forever.
To be two in one. To get lost in each other.
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Morning came far too quickly for Rin’s liking. But after enough convincing, you managed to drag him to breakfast with the others. He sipped his tea quietly, subtly leaning into you, until Isagi spoke.
“Did you guys hear that last night? There were some strange noises. I think some wild animals must have been near the campsite.”
“Oh, so it wasn’t just me and Nagi who heard it then,” Reo said, looking up from his phone.
Rin’s eyes locked onto yours. But before either of you could even think, Shidou’s voice cut through the open space.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry. That was just me and Sae having s—”
The sentence went unfinished as Sae grabbed him by the ear, dragging him away while Shidou yelped in protest. Laughter erupted around the group.
Well.
A wild animal had been out last night, indeed. If you could say that.
© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)
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stanart4clearskin · 3 days ago
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knight!art donaldson x princess!reader
art had essentially grown up in the castle. his mother was the queen's lady-in-waiting and his father was the king's most loyal knight. in return for their valuable service, the king and queen let art take lessons with their daughter—you. the two of you studied english, art, music, and fencing together. although the start of your guys' relationship had been rocky, the two of you eventually became good friends. the two of you confided in each other when life was hard or simply when you wanted a companion. 
all throughout childhood art had a crush on you but he was smart enough to know not to act upon it. he knew that you were destined for far greater things than being in love with a common citizen such as himself. although he knew he could never be with you, that never stopped him from acting upon his feelings. he complimented you whenever he could, brought you flowers he saw when he helped his dad patrol the grounds, and would sneak into the kitchen to grab you a sweet treat late at night. you were art's first love and he liked to think that he was yours. as you got older, the two of you never talked about any feelings either of you could possibly have because you were to be engaged to a prince of a distant kingdom. art didn't want to get in the way of that. 
on the eve of your 19th birthday and wedding, you had confided in art late at night about your apprehensions for your future. your head was in his lap as art's fingers combed through your locks. you both knew it was improper for a man and woman to be alone so late at night, let alone in your chambers but neither of you really cared. 
"i'm terrified to be married." you admitted, your eyes tracing the lines of the cobblestone ceilings. "i have heard that prince zweig is loud and brash. he doesn't have much respect for women, let alone me."
art's heart clenched at your words. he hated the thought that you were to be married to someone who wasn't him and he hated the fact that your future husband wasn't even that good of a man. "i'm sure those are just rumors." he said but the words seemed unconvincing to both of you. 
"i have heard that his parents have tried multiple times to find him a wife. every time something has gone wrong." you were apprehensive about what the next day might bring. prince zweig previously had his past bride-to-be kidnapped so that they couldn't go through with the wedding. 
art could tell that you were nervous. his nails scratched against your scalp, causing you to release a hum of pleasure. "i'll be with you all day. i'll make sure nothing will happen to you."
the day of the wedding had come and the hours leading up to it had been rather uneventful. no one had attempted to kidnap you nor had anyone attempted to sabotage the officiant. your ladies-in-waiting helped you with your dress, hair, and makeup and soon enough you were walking down the aisle. you weren't sure what the feeling in the pit of your stomach was when you noticed that prince zweig wasn't at the alter. perhaps it was relief or maybe even joy at the possibility of not having to be married. 
king and queen zweig insisted that everyone wait for the prince to show up but night turned into day and there was no sign of him. as you undressed from your stuffy white gown, you couldn't help but feel giddy. a large smile graced your features when art came to escort you back to the castle. the two of you were as giggly as hyenas during the carriage ride back home. that night the two of you snuck out of the castle and took a carriage ride to the nearest town. you spent most of the night at a local bar, drinking and singing your hearts out. when you both returned to the castle at sunrise, you shared a drunken kiss that neither of you would acknowledge for years. 
as time passed, art was sent off to a knight training camp while you and your mother traveled the country looking for possible prospects. many men were interested in you–naturally–but you had very little to no interest in any of them. you would never admit it aloud but your heart was already occupied by art. you couldn’t bear to marry someone other than him but you knew you could not marry him so secretly you vowed to never marry. every suitor failed to meet the mark for you and so after nearly a year of looking, your mother gave up and the two of you returned home. throughout your traveling around the country, you hadn’t been able to keep in touch with art. you had tried but life was too busy to constantly send him letters about your day and he was too busy training each day to respond. the two of you had grown distant but you were determined to reunite with him once he returned from camp. 
the moment you saw the gates opening and a carriage pulling in, you wasted no time rushing outside to go see art. he had hardly even stepped a foot onto the ground before you launched yourself at him. immediately you noticed the changes training had done to his body. he had once been awkward and lanky but now he had grown into his height and had muscle to accompany it. he held you with ease, as if you weighed as much as a feather. 
art beamed when he saw you. he would never tell you but every night while at camp he dreamt of you. his dreams ranged from merely having conversations with you to him completely ravishing you late at night. “hello princess.” he greeted and you noticed that his voice had changed as well. it was deeper and smoother, almost like dark chocolate. 
“i’ve missed you, art.” you gush, letting your feet return back to the ground. your eyes take in the sight of his face–from his crooked smile to his bright blue eyes and the hint of brown they have. 
“that’s knight art to you.” he says and in return you lightly shove him. all throughout childhood art had teased that you would eventually have to call him by his position but it felt surreal now that it had come true. 
“in that case you may no longer call me princess as i am a queen now.” 
for a moment art’s expression faltered and the color faded from his face. “queen? your father passed?”
you nearly snorted at the look of distraughtness on the knight. “no silly! my father abdicated, making me queen.”
pure relief flooded art’s face. he’s sure that he’d be equally as devastated, if not more devastated than you if your father were to pass. 
as the weeks passed the two of you fell into the routine that was new but also similar to the one you had growing up. early in the morning art would sneak into your room and wake you up, claiming that it’s his duty as your knight. during the day he’ll linger outside your office and peek his head in sometimes to watch you do your diplomatic duties. typically knights eat with the other workers but you forced him to eat in the dining hall with you and your parents. at night a knight will post guard outside your room while art lays with you until you fall asleep. he claims that it’s because someone needs to stay close with you at all times but he can’t resist stealing a kiss or two. 
even though the two of you would never marry, it didn’t stop either you or art from loving each other.
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shizuturnspages · 3 days ago
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What would the yandere diluc, dainsleif, kaeya etc, be like with a reader who is a ghoul? (Ghoul is a breed that can only consume human flesh to survive) The reader can go crazy if he doesn't eat anything. Thanks.
Bound by Hunger
Synopsis: They knew. They knew what you were. They knew what you had to do to survive. You were a monster. Their monster. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Diluc, Dainsleif, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli x Ghoul! Reader
Diluc
Diluc had faced monsters before.
Creatures lurking in the shadows, corrupted beasts that fed on the weak. He had spent years hunting them, slaying them, ensuring they could never harm Mondstadt.
But then, he met you.
Not a beast. Not a mindless killer. But a person.
A person with red-stained hands and hunger in their eyes.
At first, he tried to fix you.
He offered you alternative food, but your body rejected it.
He had alchemists study your biology, but there was no cure.
He tried to understand, to rationalize, to see past what you were.
But the truth remained: you could only survive by consuming human flesh.
And that truth terrified him.
It tore him apart.
If he let you live freely, people would die.
If he locked you away, you would starve, suffer, and lose your sanity.
If he killed you… could he really call himself any different from a monster?
So he did what he always did.
He took the burden upon himself.
He became the one who procured your meals—quietly, discreetly.
He killed only the wicked, the ones who deserved it.
He told himself that this was justice.
But deep inside, he knew.
He was feeding a monster.
And one day, you would devour him too.
Dainsleif
To Dainsleif, you were proof of the world’s cruelty.
A living being who had been cursed, forced into a cycle of endless hunger, endless suffering.
Perhaps, you were not so different from Khaenri’ah.
And yet, he could not ignore what you were.
He watched you carefully, studying your every move.
He never let you too far out of sight, knowing what starvation could drive you to do.
He treated you not as a lover, nor as an equal—but as a responsibility.
"You should not exist," his eyes seemed to say.
"And yet, here you are."
Still, he did not turn away.
Instead, he taught you control.
He taught you how to hunt without being reckless.
He taught you how to contain your hunger, to resist losing yourself.
He made sure you never forgot who you were beneath the gnawing madness.
Because if you ever fell completely—if you became nothing but a beast driven by starvation—
Then he would be the one to put you down.
Kaeya
Kaeya found your existence fascinating.
A lover who could not survive without consuming human flesh?
How… ironic.
He called you his little secret.
He hid your nature behind clever words and sweet lies.
He played the game of deception with his usual charm and wit.
But beneath his teasing, there was a dangerous edge.
He never truly trusted you.
He always kept one step ahead, ensuring you could never surprise him.
He made sure you knew: if you ever lost control, he would be ready.
And yet, there was something darkly intimate in the way he cared for you.
He fed you when you needed it.
He whispered sweet reassurances as he led you through bloodstained nights.
He made you feel like you weren’t alone.
But you could never tell if he saw you as his beloved…
Or as his most dangerous piece on the board.
Childe
Childe did not fear you.
Why would he?
He had seen true horrors. He had become one himself.
So when he learned the truth about you, he only laughed.
"That’s all? That’s your dark little secret?"
"You need human flesh to live? That’s nothing."
"I’ll bring you as many bodies as you want."
And he meant it.
He brought you corpses of his enemies, the ones who would have died by his hands anyway.
He ensured you were never hungry, never forced to starve.
He embraced your nature with a terrifying sort of devotion.
But in return, he demanded one thing.
That you never hide from him.
That you never pretend to be something you’re not.
That you stay by his side, forever.
Because if you were a monster, then so was he.
And if the world feared you, then he would carve through it until there was nothing left but the two of you.
Zhongli
Zhongli had lived long enough to understand creatures like you.
Your hunger, your madness, your desperate need to consume.
And he accepted it.
But acceptance did not mean freedom.
He set strict rules.
He ensured that you never acted recklessly.
He became the barrier between you and the world.
He provided for you, but only under his conditions.
He dictated who you could feed on.
He ensured that you never endangered Liyue.
He made it clear: you belonged to him, and him alone.
And in his own way, he cared.
He shielded you from Celestia’s wrath.
He taught you how to control your hunger, how to balance your instincts.
He treated you with a patience that no other would offer.
But Zhongli did not compromise.
You were his. His responsibility. His burden.
And should you ever break the rules he set—should you ever lose yourself to your hunger—
Then he would not hesitate.
A contract must always be fulfilled.
Even if it meant bringing you to your end.
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uyuforu · 10 hours ago
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Jungkook Groom Persona Chart
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₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Libra Rising could make JK feels very good and at peace when being married. JK could glow up, feel more handsome, be more handsome. Jk could also be more "desirable" for others as a husband, he could attracts a lot of people who want him, who want to seduce him. JK could also look very good as a husband in general, and he could look very in love with his spouse.
₊˚⊹☆ Virgo Degree on the Rising could make JK look very serious and very faithful to his spouse. He could look pretty cold as well, meaning for example people will think he looks cold and detached from his wife, or for others, he could look very neat as well. What I mean by cold and detached is that he ain't looking all over his FS, he is looking very independent from his spouse.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Stellium 4H could mean JK is very a very homey person after getting married. Very comfort spouse, a spouse that loves to chill and he could also just be the sweet hubby. Could def want to be a stay at home dad or husband.
₊˚⊹☆ Sun 4H could mean JK is indeed a very soft kind of husband, JK is very sweet, calm, at home, could really be a stay at home dad and husband, he could also be the kind of hubby to be quite private but emotional, perhaps someone who is very focused on their family and private life more after marriage.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Sun Capricorn makes JK be the kind of hubby to be a serious one, faithful, JK could also be quite serious when it comes to his life and spouse, he can also be hardworking. Because the Sun is also in the 4H, this combo could be that JK rules his house after marriage, meaning he could be the one staying at home indeed, decide not to work, or work from home, but he could def so have his own rules at home and decide how things are done there. Leader of the family and house.
₊˚⊹☆ Moon Cancer could make JK a very comforting hubby, just the kind to totally understand his spouse and want to comfort them. He could also be more emotional after getting married, perhaps also will want children a lot. JK could also have some dependency over his spouse after getting married. But this could be a sign of feeling very at peace and home with his spouse. Spouse is his comfort place, his home.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Moon 9H means JK could be quite more curious and open minded after marriage. JK could have a strong desire to perhaps travel more, or learn more. JK could also become wiser and more mature after marriage, feeling like they are understanding life more.
₊˚⊹☆ Sagittarius Mercury could tell us that JK could learn another language after getting married, or just he will perhaps talk several languages with his spouse. He could also just learn more in general, perhaps also he could decide to learn new skills, or he could go back to college also. Curious hubby material.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Mercury 3H could make JK be someone who think a lot, and perhaps after marriage, he could often express himself on what it's like to be married, or he could share experiences more. JK could be more curious and desire to learn more after getting married.
₊˚⊹☆ Venus Capricorn could tell us JK could be quite private about the love he has for his spouse and family after marriage, but he could really take care of them. JK could love being a father figure, in fact he could feel more confident after getting married.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Venus 4H could tell us JK's romance life with his spouse will be very comfortable, yet private. JK will adore taking care of his family and the house, he will also love the lifestyle they are living together. JK will def have a strong desire to have children.
₊˚⊹☆ Mars Aquarius coud tell us that JK could handle conflicts after getting married in a very chill and detached way. He could also act more cold. He could feel more rebellious after getting married, perhaps not caring even more what people think of him.
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₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Mars 4H could tell us most of conflicts could happen at home, in private doors. JK is not a husband who will put all of the arguments, conflicts out for the public, he is a very private person and will continue to be after marriage. JK will also really like resting after marriage.
₊˚⊹☆ Jupiter 5H could mean Jk could def want to have children after marriage, he could feel like also marriage is truly awesome and fun. He could feel the happiest after getting married, feeling like he is truly happy where he is. JK could also feel like the best part of being married is being married with his best friend, the flirt, the children, and just how fun it is.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Saturn 6H could tell us some obstacles during JK's marriage could be their routine. Perhaps FS works a lot and JK could sometimes have a hard time to see them. Could also be that JK could be a very busy person after marriage. If JK has a desire to work again, he could find himself having a hard time to do so. Could indicate JK having a strong desire for a break in his work after marriage.
₊˚⊹☆ Uranus 4H could mean something unconventional about JK after marriage could be his house and family. Perhaps JK will have a way to function with his spouse about the house, their home, and their children that will not be considered traditional or "normal". JK could also often move with spouse after marriage, or perhaps decide to live in a foreign country.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Neptune 4H could mean JK's illusions after marriages could be about his home life. Perhaps JK will envision his home, house life in a very different way than it will happen. Otherwise this could mean JK's dream after getting married is to take care of his family.
₊˚⊹☆ Pluto 2H could tell us JK's money situation and stability could change a lot after marriage. One thing also is that JK could be more possessive and sometimes jealous after getting married. He could be quite proud of being married but this so means you shouldn't touch to his precious spouse.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Chiron 2H could mean JK could earn less after getting married. Since he has a Stellium in his 4H, perhaps this could mean JK will want to take a break in his career after getting married, and will want to enjoy his marriage, children, spouse, etc. Which makes sense. But with Chiron here, JK could so earn less, and FS could earn more, be the one working. JK could either stress about money, stability, or just that because he isn't the one earning money (perhaps) he could just face a new kind of stability in life, depending on someone could be stressful sometimes.
₊˚⊹☆ Briede Leo 10H could mean indeed his FS is the one bringing the money, working etc. FS after marriage could want to continue her career, not wanting to stop, and JK could feel like resting, and being the one taking care of the home, children, etc. JK sees his spouse as highly ambitious, someone who is very famous and popular, hardworking, someone who can't stop and needs to work. He thinks FS will not do well as a stay at home.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Groom Aquarius 5H could mean Jk sees himself as a very fun husband, he can thinks he could be a unique or unconventional one as well. He could be the one indeed staying at home and taking care of the house, children, deciding to have a big break in his career to focus on his family. He thinks there is something unconventional about him, which could def be true since it is generally not how things work in Korea.
₊˚⊹☆ MC Cancer makes people see JK as a husband as the kind to be very home like, very soft, sweet, a very good dad, that he would make a very good parent in general, loving children, loving his family, loving his marriage, etc. They def see him as a stay at home person. He has a 20° over it, so perhaps people could see him as very private still, JK could not post a lot about his marriage or home life.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ Juno 12H means Jungkook's marriage will be very private, and people could not know much about this marriage. It could be hard to know much about it actually, unless the couple wants to share something. JK's marriage will be def "hidden", meaning they will not be a very public couple.
₊˚⊹☆ Juno Libra could tell us that JK's marriage will be very romantic and JK will feel like (with Juno also being in the 12H) that he and his spouse were meant to be, soulmates, and that he so feel very romantic about his marriage.
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climbthemountain2020 · 2 days ago
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Chaos // Revelry - Chapter 1
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Elucien | Ch. 1 | Ao3
After a series of heated dreams and strange visions send Elain to The Human Lands, the bond she's been pointedly ignoring for years suddenly becomes too overwhelming to push aside. The close proximity and the mission at hand bring her and Lucien closer, even with new enemies and danger behind every corner. Despite Elain's stubborn will, fate seems to keep finding ways to turn her best laid plans to chaos.
This was a mistake. 
The echoing of his words reared up her throat like acid– burning, clashing, choking her alive. The moonlight ebbed in through the frosted windows of her room as she fought to take in a breath, the loss of control tightening in her chest.
This was a mistake. 
He’d walked away, leaving her stunned in the foyer, her eyes still half closed, lips parted, her heart still beating like drums of war.  
The necklace stung as she ripped it off, the delicate chain sure to leave a mark on her skin, a physical reminder of  the dismissal she’d suffered tonight. The door made no sounds as she opened and closed it behind her, shuffling back down the stairs, engulfed still with the shame that seemed to linger in the dark. The fire in the vast sitting room was nearly out now, no noises echoing through the stately home that held her family inside. It felt like it had been hours since, but perhaps it had only been minutes. 
For the first time in recent memory, Elain had done something spur of the moment, entirely for herself. Something beyond expectations, beyond propriety. She hadn’t anticipated it, the sound of his laughter and approval waking something inside her that had been sleeping before. But when he’d touched her skin, she’d thrown caution to the wind. He could have been anyone, the dulcet, low laugh and hot fingers brushing her skin. Everything since she’d come here had been so unsteady, so unsure, but in that moment, she hadn’t cared about anything except the feeling of connection, the touch of skin on skin, the wanting . 
When he shut her down, that cold rejection threatened to swallow her whole again. The memory of the last drowning her in shame.
“But my heart belongs to you.”
“I don’t want it.”
It had just barely stopped haunting her, that very public conversation with her former betrothed. 
“Not you. Never you.”
This was a mistake.
Was there something so horrible and wretched about her that she was to remain alone all her days? Face rejection any time she believed she allowed herself to feel joy? Feel pleasure? 
She threw the necklace onto the pile of Azriel’s gifts that he’d left behind in his hurry to be gone. To be away from her . 
She’d all but thrown herself at him, and still. Still. 
The walls of the room blurred as she turned to go back to her room, but her eyes caught on a movement outside in the falling snow. A twitch of wings in the courtyard. Azriel, catching his death on a wrought-iron patio chair, rather than spend another moment alone with her. 
The anger rose in her like a tidal wave, taking out from shore anything that had been keeping her even remotely rational about this. He’d been the one to encourage this. The stolen glances, the too-long stares. He’d made her think that he wanted her, that she might mean something to him. 
She hadn’t even really cared if it was him, but the attention felt so good, so soothing after so long of feeling wrong in her own skin. All for it to fall apart the moment she gave in.
Just as she debated going to lock the doors so that he could freeze in the cold, he spread his wings and took off, a draft pulling him as he soared above the rooftop. In her anger, Elain flipped her middle finger to some abstract place in the skies. 
She was so angry , so bitter. She could feel it in her body, a living thing in her veins. Why wasn’t she good enough? Why wasn’t she thriving here?
Always, she’d been the adaptable one, the one who could mold herself to fit what was necessary. And what had that gotten her? She was tired of waiting, tired of baking and quietly growing pretty things and pretending . 
Coming here, she’d thought for the longest time that she could keep up with the way she’d been. Sweet, demure Elain, bred for a life of loyalty and love. She’d tried to still be everything Graysen had wanted, had hoped he’d still want her, especially considering she’d given him her body before she’d been Made. More than anything, Elain had wanted normalcy, the known, to hang on to. Even when he’d rejected her, she’d held on to how she was before, hoping a life of the familiar would soothe the horrid ache that had begun to pulse inside her. Acting this way was all she’d had, all she’d been told would bring her love and a husband and a life worthy of living. 
All it had brought her was rage. Deep, boiling rage that had been held back so long it started to demand to be heard.
The flickering in her chest pulsed wildly as she stormed into the sitting room. She was fuming, her always-rigid composure slipping by the moment as she swept back and forth through the room, the door shutting quietly behind her despite her insatiable urge to slam it with all the immortal strength now contained within her body. The heels of her palms pressed firmly into her eyes as she heaved.
This was a mistake .
One of many. 
A mistake. 
She swore her rage could have torn the entire house down, the feelings swirling within her like a maelstrom, wild and untamed and out of control. The low fire gave small flares as she turned on her heel, pacing and running a path into the rug.
That’s twice now, Elain. 
Surely, she couldn’t be the problem? She’d done everything right, everything that was expected of her. 
Mistake. 
Just as she turned again, the anger in her chest working her into a frenzy, her foot caught and she was falling. The air whipped around her strangely, time seeming to slow and warp as she fell to the carpet. But when her hands reached out to catch her, the fabric had changed. 
Where she expected to see the ornate weaving she knew so well from the rug at the River House, now sat a worn and soft carpet. The fibers were cozy beneath her fingers, cushioning the blow as she’d fallen to her knees. 
She wasn’t in the sitting room anymore. She wasn’t in her house at all. 
A dark living room sprawled tidily around her, full windows allowing in the light of the moon. Beneath it, the glow from the fae lamps lining the street outside cast a soft light across the room’s brick-walled interior. The room was small, cozy, though the hearth was left barren and cold. Untouched. Her eyes adjusted as she took it in– empty counters, the untended fireplace, a half drunk glass of water on the table, the green couch with a neatly folded yellow blanket that looked soft as a duckling draped across the back. 
It was the smell that tipped her off. Leather and apples and pine needles soaked in sunlight. She knew the smell because she dreamed of it. She knew the smell because she’d clocked it the very first time he’d been in the same room as her, and she’d never forgotten. She knew the smell because she worried about it fading from the jacket she kept folded and hidden in a box at the back of her closet. She knew the smell as though it were entwined in her very soul itself, because it was. 
This was Lucien’s apartment. 
Without thinking, she inhaled greedily, filling her lungs with it. That bubbling rage evaporated like water on a hot pan. The sweet release of something she couldn’t have, the taste of embracing what she’d so long denied herself. 
Graysen had been an obligation.
Azriel had been a distraction. 
But Lucien was…Lucien was…
A mistake. 
She bit her tongue at the thought, so sharply she tasted the metallic tang of blood immediately coating her mouth. 
Beneath the overwhelming scent of him, she could detect something else with her heightened senses. A smoky, searing, sweet smell of some type of liquor lingered in the air, strong enough that Elain could almost taste it on her tongue. 
A sound to her right left her frozen in place, every fiber of her rigid as she strained to hear. It came again, steadily this time. The sound of his breath sawing steadily in and out in the next room. Lucien was here, sleeping. 
Elain finally put the pieces together. In her anger, she’d winnowed to her mate. Her very first winnow.
His breathing caught then evened out again as Elain got quietly to her feet. Her chest hummed at the proximity, the gentle buzzing of the unfulfilled bond in her chest a solid and constant reminder of who he was to her. Who she was to him.  
She should leave. She still could. 
But standing in his space, amongst his things, she hesitated. 
Before she could think better of it, her feet were following the cord in her chest. She crept on the pads of her stocking feet, whatever preternatural stillness that she’d inherited from the Cauldron allowing her to move in complete silence. The bedroom door was open, that same glow from the night sky spreading a swath of light across the bed. Across him.
Breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, sheet tucked around his naked waist as he slumbered on his stomach. A broad expanse of dark skin visible from the dips at the base of his spine all the way to his arms, one tucked beneath the pillow and another thrown haphazardly out across the bed. She didn’t miss the textured skin, the lines raised across his shoulders and down his back, a road map of the horrors he’d suffered at the hands of many. 
In her dreams, she’d run her fingers across the ridges, allowed her mouth to touch the one that wrapped over his right shoulder and just barely touched his neck. She ached to do it now. His scent was concentrated here, the potency of it as high as she’d ever allowed it, as close as she’d ever come. 
She drew closer still, knowing it was a bad idea, but much too far along to stop herself now. As she rounded the bed, his face came into view, so relaxed in sleep. Peaceful. The urge to lay with him was so physical and profound that she almost gave in. 
Would he startle, horrified at her presence? Or would he simply extend an arm, the bond that connected them lying content in his chest. In both their chests. 
Her fingers reached out, near translucent in the moonlight as they extended towards him. Just barely, she let them graze across his skin. Just barely, did she allow the heat of him to seep into the muscle and bone of her body that otherwise hadn’t felt true warmth since she’d been submerged into those waters so long ago.
She longed to press her lips against his, taste the whiskey that she could smell on his peaceful, steady breaths. The thrumming of their bond synced with the pounding of her heart, an echo of his.
Would he call her a mistake?
The memory of the vision reared its ugly head, as it did every so often to remind her that this was not in the cards for her– no matter how she might want it. Her, curled into the fetal position on a bed, sobbing. His jacket around her shoulders, his scent nearly gone from it. The overwhelming pain in her chest, the loneliness, the heartbreak, the absence of a bond. 
Even the memory of the vision hurt so badly she could hardly stand it.
She would give her heart to him, and he would break it, too. The others stung, the rejection painful. But if Lucien left her, her mate who smelled like the forest and joy, she would never recover. She would never be whole again.
She’d wanted him from the moment their eyes met across a soaked stone floor in a castle far away from here. She’d been soaked to the bone, terrified and cold, but all she’d seen was him. Her sisters forgotten, Grayson a faraway memory, but then, that vision had flashed, her very first. The pain of it felt so real, the gasp dying in her chest as he’d draped that jacket, the jacket over her shoulders. 
A mistake.
She pulled back her hand, taking a single second more to follow the steady movement of his chest as he breathed. 
No matter how much she wanted this, wanted him, Elain wouldn’t allow herself to open to that sort of pain. She’d never survive it.
She inhaled a final time as though she could keep that lovely scent encapsulated in her lungs forever. As though she could pull it out when the feelings became too much, when she couldn't stand it anymore, the way she did with his embroidered jacket. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
Then, Elain turned and left, quietly opening and shutting the front door behind her as she slipped out into the cold night and back to the River House.
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loveamongdragons · 1 day ago
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Hey!! Im sorry, this is a really weird question and you really don't have to answer but I love your atla posts sm and they really make me think. Love your fics too. Here's the thing... I actually just know atla via fandom osmosis so I have no clue what you're talking about in this post:
https://www.tumblr.com/loveamongdragons/774408895286460416/hey-can-we-talk-about-this-as-apposed-to-this?source=share
Could you please elaborate? Thank you! I hope you're doing well, take care and stay hydrated! <3
Hey there! So happy you like my stuff ^^ it's not weird to ask at all, welcome aboard.
So, I concede that I might be grasping at straws here, but at the same time: the thought had randomly occurred to me and then dug its claws into my brain with no warning whatsoever.
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My point is that the scenes at hand are quite similar: one person shoots an arch/circle of fire, and Katara is on the receiving end. Her reactions though differ significantly.
I find it intriguing, shall we say, that she shows zero fear when Zuko, "the face of the enemy", the guy that had spent the entirety of the show up until then hunting them, casts the fire in anger, but is petrified when Aang, her friend and love interest, casts fire in his chipper way. Like, isn't that curious?
In that same vein, it is curious how Zuko is the only person whom she ever shows the depth of her anger. You'd think that hurling all sorts of accusations at a person who you perceive to be your enemy, and whom you perhaps even believe to be evil at heart, might scare you a little bit? Or maybe you'd at least expect to deal with retaliation or something. Instead, Katara is perfectly comfortable with her anger around Zuko, up to the point where she turns her back on him in the Crystal Catacombs and starts to cry. With Aang though, she is consistently walking on eggshells and trying to stay amiable and motherly.
At the same time, she seems to be perfectly fine with Zuko's anger, too. For heavens' sake, she looks concerned and confused, and not scared in the slightest when Zuko shoots fire at them in the second gif. In regards to Aang, we get this line from Katara though: "I'm not saying the Avatar State doesn't have incredible and helpful power … but you have to understand … for the people who love you, watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary."
Yeah, so it's as if Aang's bottled up feelings of pain and rage have always been more scary than Zuko's explicit pain and rage. And it's just curious how in those two scenes Katara has less trust in Aang's ability to control himself than when she encounters a pretty emotionally distraught Zuko - who both do the same damn thing, with VERY different consequences, of course.
Now, you could say: hey, it's just because Zuko was a proficient firebender, and Aang wasn't, and Katara thus knew she couldn't rely on Aang's abilities, but she could rely on Zuko's (and... girl... the way this alone sounds!). Which, I fully accept that this might be the case. But it still wouldn't take away from the fact that it's curious as hell that Katara did not show any sort of fear in that scene with Zuko, and the argument becomes interesting again when you imply that she even at this point had enough trust in Zuko that she didn't even perceive him as a threat.
I must say: I adore this scene! I love this encounter between Zuko and Katara because I think it's the first real emotional exchange they have. Katara offers to heal Iroh! She is concerned! He pushes her the fuck away. (Mirrors their later encounter beneath Ba Sing Se, too). Did Zuko spend the next days thinking about her offer? Did he wonder in secret late at night if he should have accepted? Did he find himself feeling cozy, warm, sad feelings towards her, and then pushing them away? Did he think about it when he met her again in the Catacombs, and then later at the Gaang's camp? Did she?
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squishyhotaru · 1 day ago
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HEAVY IN YOUR ARMS
— ♡ Jude Jazza/Female bodied Reader — ♡ ANGST AND FLUFF — ♡TW: Reader is "kidnapped" and almost killed and used against Jude, but has happy ending — ♡Pronouns: You, Princess, Woman — ♡Words: 2571 — ♡Ao3 Mirror — ♡MASTERLIST | REQUESTS Repost from my old blog
⤷ During a rare occasion Jude takes you out for a date, you find yourself in the hands of those who have it out for him and they decide to use you against him, without realising just how far he will go to protect you.
— ♡ Tag list: @nightghoul381
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How long had it been since you’d first met Jude Jazza?
Your one month long stay in Crown Castle had come and gone many moons ago, and yet here you were, still at his side, hand in his as this had always been your life. Despite spending so much time with him, it could still be hard to understand him. For instance, he liked to keep your relationship private since he was worried people targeting him would come after you. You always tried to belay his fears, but he wasn’t wrong; you were defenceless compared to the others, and it was a rare day when he wasn’t hurt by some asshole who wanted him dead.
It was for that reason that you almost never went out in public together. Dates were had in the comfort of walls where no one would know you — and while you were glad to just spend any time with him, really, to be truthful, all you wanted to do was shout to the world about him. About you both. About how much you loved him, about how he was working on being kinder, only to you, and how his kindness was tender and so sincere that each time you fell in love with him more and more.
Perhaps he knew this, and that was why he’d asked you out on an actual date.
You’d assured him that it was okay, but he’d simply clicked his tongue and insisted that if he wanted to take his princess out for dinner, then he would absolutely do that. The possessiveness in his tone silenced all objections, and the gleam in his eyes that was familiar; the one he’d had when he’d promised you nothing would hurt you, nothing would take you from him.
The restaurant was entirely empty when you entered, and you had to bite back a laugh when you noticed the waiter was Ellis. Jude, however, snickered when he saw it. “Don’t get too into the role, I expect ya back at work tomorrow.”
“Did you book the entire place…?”
Jude shrugged as if it was nothing and sat down, motioning to the chair opposite. “Jude, you should pull her chair out-”
“If she wanted a fuckin’ gentleman then she should have dated someone else.”
This time, you laugh and shake your head, taking the seat. “I don’t know, I think you can be a gentleman at times.”
Jude sighed and shook his head. “Obviously you’ve spent too much time around us that yer perceptions getting fucked,” he said with a slight huff. “Order whatever, I paid the kitchen staff to make whatever yer want.”
“Wait, you-”
“Just order!”
Was it you, or was there a faint hint of pink on his cheek? You bit your lip before smiling and busying yourself with the menu. Of course it wouldn’t be a normal date; Jude thought kindness had to come with things only he could do, royal boxes for theatre performances, entire floors of hotels, and now apparently, entire restaurants and their cooks. It was mostly his way of being careful. It only took one person to recognise him, to describe you, and it only took them following you to find you alone, and, then-
Under the table you can feel his foot rub against yours and you glance up to find him watching you. His eyes are warm, an expression only ever you get to see, and your heart jumps. “What’s that expression, Princess?” he smirks. “Wantin’ desert first?”
“You are impossible, Jude Jazza,” you sigh softly, yet smile at him anyway. God you love him. So much that it feels as if each day that passes at his side you become more and more dyed in his colours. The darkness of his life has become so common that you doubt you know what it feels like to live in the light anymore, and yet-
As the food arrives it smells perfect. Ellis pours wine and then vanishes to give you both space. “Thank you, Jude,” you murmur, staring at him. “You always really do make me feel like a princess.”
He snorts, eyes dropping from yours. He does that when he’s bashful, something also only you ever get to see. “No woman of mine is gonna get treated like a pauper.”
“Jude, you know I’d be happy with you no matter what, right?”
“That’s cause yer happy to settle.”
“No, it’s because I love you.”
His amethyst eyes rise again to meet yours as you lift your spoon to your mouth. There’s no hint of coldness, only warmth that you could get lost in — and in that dark room, the room that’s getting darker, your head spinning —
“Princess…?”
You reach for him as he stands up but his warmth as he holds you is the last thing you feel.
Who knows how much time passes since then?
The sun had been setting when you’d left Crown Castle, and now, as a hard slap to your face rouses you from your slumber, there’s nothing but darkness and a bitter chill that bites at your exposed skin. There’s too much to take notice of as you look around, too many feelings, the cold is the most obvious at first — until your hair is grabbed and your neck exposed and something far colder than the night air presses against your throat.
You swallow.
Your hands are bound behind your back, your ankles tied, too making it near impossible to move. There’s water nearby, you can hear it but that’s all you can make out over the fear. What’s happening?
“I’ll fuckin’ kill ya if you lay a single hand on her.”
Jude.
You breathe and close your eyes, trying to steady and calm yourself. Jude is here. Jude will save you. He always does. You move your eyes to find him across from you, his jacket is gone and his white shirt is stained with red as he kneels amongst figures whose faces you can’t make out. His face is bloody too—
“Jude-” you croak out, fear gripping your stomach at the sight of him.
Is he getting hurt because of you?
“Shut up, bitch.”
A dangerous growl escapes Jude’s throat and you meet his eyes. The warmth is gone, there is only coldness, and a regret there that you know is going to torment him for the rest of his life. Doesn’t he know this is your fault? Here you were, dragging him down, no doubt if he didn’t have to worry about your life and safety, he could get out of this.
“Strange, I didn’t think the rumours were true that Jude Jazza had a fondness for such a meek woman,” the man holding you says.
“Get off of me,” you grumble, trying to fight his grip. His hand holding your hair relents, before it trails along your face to grip your chin and lift your head to face him. You don’t recognise him, you’re positive you’ve never seen him before in your life — but there’s a cruelness in his eyes that sparks genuine fear inside of you. “Don’t touch me.”
“If you fight back, we’ll rough your boyfriend up more.”
“Tch, I’ll really fuckin’ kill ya. Princess, think about yer safet-”
He breaks off when one of the others kicks or punches him or something — you can only hear his groans of pain. Your eyes sting and you furiously blink your tears back to glare at the man holding you. “He truly does value you more than his own life.”
“I value him more than mine, too,” you say back, though your voice isn’t as strong as you’d hoped and he laughs in response.
“Well, either way, I’m afraid it’s his fault you’re in this situation.”
“No, it isn’t,” you gulp, trying to ignore the knife digging against you more. Where is Ellis? Has he gone to get help? Can you stall long enough that both of you can get out of this? “If I wasn’t here you’d never get him.”
“You’re sure right about that, princess,” the man chuckles, the nickname feeling almost slimy as it falls from his lips. “Mr. Jazza.”
Jude grunts.
“This woman is entirely wasted on you, perhaps we could show her-”
“Go to hell, ya fuckin’ punk.”
The malice in Jude’s reply only calms you, especially when you feel the man tense up. Maybe they have him at a disadvantage, but they’re scared of him still; perhaps it’ll be enough to keep them from touching you. You silently beg for Ellis to hurry up as you’re hauled to your feet, stumbling without the free movement of your feet.
“Just hurry up and tell me how much money ya fuckin’ want!”
“Money?”
Everything seems to go silent, before a chuckle escapes the man behind you. “Oh no, no no, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. I don’t want money, Jude Jazza, I want you to be broken inside.”
A strange feeling overcomes you as you’re tugged along, it’s as if everything is in slow motion. You turn to look at him, his eyes wide and almost frantic and you want nothing more than to rush to him, than to take him into your arms and tell him he’s okay, that you’re okay, but…. The feeling of foreboding only gets worse when you hear a clanking sound, when you feel something cold and heavy attached to your feet and then-
Jude jumps to his feet though is quickly restrained by the guys around him. “Jude-”
You don’t hear his reply as he opens his mouth. Your legs are jerked and pulled out from under you, and as icy water consumes you, suddenly you understand. Strange, you feel as if you should feel more concerned for your life — there’s no way you’re getting out of this alone, after all, and yet all you can think about is him.
Will he be okay? Will the others arrive and help him in time? He’s gonna spend his life blaming himself for this, and you don’t want that — it’s not his fault, it really isn’t — urgency wells up in you, the need to get to the surface to fill your lungs with the air they’re begging to miss more and more, and yet no matter of moving can do anything to free yourself. The light above the water seems almost beautiful in a way.
The longer you spend without air the more delirious you feel. Seconds feel like hours, but you so desperately don’t want to close your eyes — you can’t let… Jude get hurt, and yet there’s nothing you can do, and….!
When hands grip yours, when you find your arms free, you’re certain it’s nothing more than your imagination. That, perhaps, you’re so far gone to the other side that this is how it’s supposed to feel. Free. Then, when your legs are freed next you’re positive this is it. The weightlessness is from your life leaving you, the hands on you, the rough grip you know so well is just your brain comforting you —
The air that fills your lungs burns.
Burns so much that there’s no way this is imagination.
“Fuck it, Princess, breathe-”
Hands on your face, on your neck — another voice, deep, one you should recognise. It’s cold again.
“Jude…?”
It must be hell, there’s no angel in heaven who could have his voice or his touch.
“Open yer eyes, please.”
It can’t be real, after all his voice is too frantic with worry. There’s no composure anymore, that’s not like him.
Lips against yours, wet — and then you open your eyes, recognising the smoky and bitter taste of your lover. His hair is sopping wet, his shirt sticking to him and covered in blood and you’re clinging to him — both of you cold, shivering, and yet-
“You fuckin’ scared… the hell out of me…” he breathes, smoothing your hair back and frantically checking you over. “Don’t ever fuckin’ do that to me again, you can’t go anywhere-”
“It’s… not your fault, it wasn’t-” you croak out, voice sore, throat burning. You’re crying, you’re not sure when that started, perhaps when you felt his firm chest under your body when he crushed you against him as if to say you were never, ever leaving his side for the rest of the eternity you’d pledged to him. “I’m okay.”
“It is-”
“It isn’t,” you say firmly, gripping his shirt and shaking your head. “It isn’t. I’m okay… you’re hurt-”
“He’s fine.”
You recognise the other voice as Rogers, and the soapy scent that fills the air as something warm drapes over you. Jude’s jacket; the scent and warmth is welcome. “I’m sorry,” Ellis murmurs. “I didn’t take my eyes off them.”
“What happened…?”
Jude simply shakes his head, standing up with a grunt of pain and lifting you in his arms. He’s stubborn, you know he won’t accept if you protest, so instead you accept his silent kindness and nuzzle yourself closer to him. Now you wrap your arms around him, intent to hold him as close to you as you can. “I’m okay, Jude,” you whisper into his ear. “You’re safe, too.”
“You think I give half a damn about me?” he mutters back.
“But I do,” you respond, pressing your face against his neck, that spot you always fit so perfectly. “I’m… I’m so glad you’re okay, Jude.”
“You’re perception really is fucked.”
“Just tell me you’re glad to be alive, Jude.”
He remains silent, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as he walks. There’s a carriage up ahead, according to Ellis. Once you get back Roger will look over you both, and then — a warm bath, Jude says, and then you’re not leaving his side for days. Weeks.
“No, you’re wrong.”
“What?” he snorts, stopping walking to look down at you. “You think you can escape me?”
“No, that’s not-” you sigh. “I just meant it’s going to be me keeping you at my side.”
“I think she’s got you there, Jude-”
“Shut up, Ellis,” he mutters, hauling you into the carriage in his lap. The moment Ellis tries to pull himself in, he pushes him back out. “Fuckin’ walk home.”
“Jude, it’s cold,” he pouts.
“Shut up.”
“Jude,” you whisper, curling yourself closer to him. “You really are alive.”
“Of course I am,” he says indignantly, finally letting Ellis and Roger inside. “If you’re alive so am I. I ain’t ever gonna let some other bastard stay at your side, after all. Your arms are the only ones I belong in.”
At first, you’re not sure you hear the last few words, but when he places a few soft kisses to the tips of your fingers you’re positive you didn’t mishear him.
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cheshire-chronicles · 1 day ago
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Moon Orchid | Itoshi Rin
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✧ A/N: My second (and a half) tribute to period pieces, and I enjoyed it every much as its preceding pieces in the regency verse I’m creating. It was really this idea that inspired the concept of expanding my Blue Lock fics within a mini regency universe. So I hope you enjoy as they fall into place in indulgent historical romances.
✧ Synopsis: Rin’s place in society as the second son of a Viscount has been one that he’s had to adapt to. With news of his older brother swirling around the ton, Rin only learns this fact when he, himself, is faced with a florist and a bouquet of damning flowers. Of course, the language of flowers is one you speak fluently — and one he cannot speak at all. But when you have luck (common peony) and luxury (orchid) in play, what could go wrong?
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The second son. It isn’t a title that ever particularly bothered Rin most of his life. His elder brother, the scion, the heir to the family’s Viscount status and responsibilities, held that role handsomely.
But when his brother fails to return from his time abroad, sending home letters that bear Madrid’s seal and smell of peaches and carnations — well, Rin’s opinions change.
He doesn’t take the mantle easily or out of any real desire, either. He completed his studies in etiquette and decorum, in fencing and horseback riding, in Latin and financials. Not because he cares much for his estate’s affairs, or because he seeks his father’s approval or his mother’s admiration.
If anything, he does it to catch his brother’s. To force Sae, wherever he might be in Spain, to take note of Rin and his work here in London’s ton.
He’s blinded by his single-track pursuit of acknowledgement. He’s always been that way — something he’ll soon realize applies more to than just his ambition, but in matters of the heart, too.
He’s always been prone to impulse. As much as he pretends otherwise, masks his temper under a facade of composure that always came so easily to Sae, it fits uneasily on him. Like glass encasing magma.
When his mother is fussing at a florist shop one day, he stands aside, staring idly out the window. It wouldn’t have been proper for her to be dallying about unaccompanied, and his father was away on business. She had insisted on his companionship over the maids today, though he doesn’t particularly care to know why.
If he had asked, in hindsight, perhaps things would not have gone so awry.
As he drums his knuckles against the wooden paneling of the window, wondering idly if the clouds outside were hinting at an incoming storm, he faintly hears his mother’s voice rambling on to the florist.
“Yes, I’m very excited,” she says, “he hasn’t been home in oh, so long. Why, I dare say it’s been four years? Perhaps five.”
Who the devil is she talking about? Rin wonders. Father’s never left home, and Rin feels as though he was constantly visiting home even during his university days.
“It’ll be a well-awaited day in the ton, then,” another voice replies.
Warm, amiable. He turns slightly, out of bored interest, and sees you. The florist, tending to his mother with an easy smile as you compose her flower arrangements.
“Indeed, indeed,” his mother goes on. “I imagine the young ladies of the court will be vying for his attention.”
“Perhaps roses to celebrate the occasion?” You offer her red roses, twirl a few pink. “Or orchids?”
Rin can admire your cleverness, if nothing else. It’s clear you’re experienced in the ways of upselling your flower shop’s customers. Quick and pleasant, your cheeks dimpling with a smile as you hold up different flowers for his mother’s approval.
“Orchids have always been my Rin’s favourite,” his mother preens, finally looking back at him.
He holds back a recoil, tensing only slightly as she plucks and smooths the lapel of his shirt and fusses with his coat.
“It’s fine, mother.”
“Oh, of course, darling. But orchids have always been your preference.”
He withholds a sigh, looking away. “I don’t particularly have any preference when it comes to flowers.”
“No?” He shifts his gaze at the voice. Not his mother — you. There’s something almost impish about your expression, eyes bright and sly. “Surely, sir, you can tell the difference between the common peony and a well-bred moon orchid.”
You hold up the flowers, as though to prove your point. He stares. Perhaps, if it were Sae, he’d be able to tell the difference more calculatingly. If it were Sae, he’d coolly note that the coral blush of the peony petals were abrasive and an eye sore compared to the silky white of the orchid. If it were Sae, he’d stroke the blossoms’ leaves and stems and be able to tell which had been grown in common soil and which had been cultivated in prestigious gardens.
But Rin is not Sae. And he never has been. The common peony looks no different to him from the moon orchid. If they were planted together, re-rooted into the same pot, housed in the same home, they would look fine together.
He meets your gaze, winter eyes like the tundra frozen over. “They look no different to me.”
You pause. Look from him to your flowers, then back to him. At his fine, dark hair, glossy in the faint sunlight coming in through the window. The clouds are coming in outside, though in the brief break of light, he appears almost angelic. Pale and dark in equal terms. His tailored clothes, fitted like a scion. Aloof, though you catch the trace of something more.
“I see,” you say softly, perhaps misreading his words. But in a florist’s humble attire, your dress marred with plant trimmings and fertilizer, your hands scratched with thorns and briars, the difference between you both has never been clearer.
Despite that, there is a clearness in his gaze that tells you he is assessing you on your words alone. Your actions and little else.
Before you can say anything more, his mother says cheerily, “But the occasion calls for carnations! Peonies and orchids will have to wait, I fear.”
“Carnations?” Rin furrows his brows, finally looking to his mother. “Why carnations?”
Something about them rings a bell. Something about them makes him care more about flowers than he normally would.
“Why, dear, you simply never listen to me,” she scolds, “I’ve been telling this young woman since we arrived at the shop. I received the letter just earlier today, it’s why your father is so busy with preparations and couldn’t accompany me here himself.”
“It must’ve slipped my mind,” Rin mutters.
“Oh, dear, you really should be more attentive —”
“Why carnations?” he presses impatiently.
His mother looks vaguely fussed about his tone, though it isn’t her who finally answers. It’s you, wrapping up the bouquet of bright red carnations in a white ribbon and handing them to him.
Outside, there’s a roll of thunder.
You say, with an innocent smile while dealing words that send an arrow through his heart, “Your brother is returning to the ton, my lord. Congratulations.”
He accepts the flowers on instinct. His brain feels as though it’s lost the capacity to process. Your hands brush his, and he reacts on reflex. On impulse alone, as he’s always been prone to.
Your warm fingers against his own cool ones. He feels every print as vividly as a petal on his lips.
Lightning flashes across the sky.
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gtraccoon · 3 days ago
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if shadow milk is small due to the lost of power is his two minions small as well? I just mostly want to see giant pure vanilla acting like a caring father to all tiny cookies…even though they were evil, pure vanilla didn’t care he wanted to make sure they are safe
i’m so glad you ask this!
i really need to come up with a name for this AU 😭 but yes yes
they do start off small! during the time when shadow milk loses his abilities, he also loses the ability to un-transform the cards into actual cookies. (or rather people…)
anyway, candy apple and black sapphire are for a short time stuck as cards before they’re changed back to humans…. at card size. (for reference, shadow milk is around 3 inches, and the CA and black sapphire as cards are around 3.2-3.4 inches.)
sapphire is a little bit taller than Shadow Milk and ofc sapphire thinks this is the funniest thing ever—but candy apple is freaking out!! she wants to help her master but he’s literally so weak now she can’t do much.
it takes a while, but over time as the magic wears off they return to normal. however, shadow milk is still stuck small. as much as i love candy apple she’d be very annoying during this, constantly nagging PV to see shadow milk and talk to him. During this, SM is anxious to see anyone because it’s easy for him to be scary but not to be scared. he’s simply not used to it.
———————————————
now onto potential future ideas that aren’t locked into place.
i’m weighing my options with PV getting paranoid about candy apple/ black sapphire accidentally (or on purpose who knows…) hurting SM when he’s not there. perhaps he starts taking the little guy around with him when he needs to do things? dunno!
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anyway
yes! he’s definitely very fatherly to the three when they’re all small. especially candy apple because she’s very childish and will get into trouble—he likes to be able to keep watch on her. redemption is still something he believes they can achieve but only if they live, so for now he brings them star jellies and cares for them.
i want to write this…. 😢 i also need to organize my ideas
thank you so much for asking i lvoe responding to these … i’m in a very artsy mood too so expect art when i finish my freaking school work
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pritong-baboy · 6 hours ago
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Imagine it’s been MONTHS and Bee, while caving in a couple of times when desperate, has mostly refused to any of shockwaves affections. He doesn’t call him sire, doesn’t want to talk to him, doesn’t want his comfort, etc.
So shockwave starts getting a bit desperate, and when shockwaves desperate… it’s no good for anyone.
Shockwave develops a device that will turn bumblebee into an ACTUAL sparkling. He’s created a device that will turn bee into a baby/toddler, so he can ‘start over’ with him. He’ll get it right this time.
This could lead to a few different scenarios:
He raises bee, who sees him as his sire and genuinely cares and loves him. Which would lead to an eventual devastating fallout when he finds out what shockwave did to him.
Or (if we REALLY want to get into the horror of it)
Bee is still aware of everything. He has his memories, he knows what shockwave did, but he can’t do anything about it. He’s stuck in this tiny body unable to fight off anything or anyone.
He’s vulnerable.
He also can’t regulate his emotions like he used to, because while he has his memories, his processor is still one of a sparklings. So he can’t control some of his actions, leading to him going to shockwave for everything.
I’d imagine that sparklings are drawn to the energy of their parents spark. So bee instinctively clings to shockwave or seeks him out at times, because to his horror— he’s started actually seeing shockwave as his sire.
Perhaps it gets worse over time, and he starts to forget his memories of before. How horrifying would that be? Absolutely terrifying I’d imagine.
ALSO what if a sparkling can create a parent child sparkbond? I’ve seen this before in some other fanfics, that a sparkling and their parent (adopted or biological) have a special bond between their sparks.
Like shockwave tries to establish this bond, and bee refuses to as he still remembers everything. But one day he accepts the bond, I doubt it was accepted intentionally, and was more instinctional. Bee is mortified.
(I wonder if shockwave is aware that bee remembers in this scenario, and if so how does that change how he acts?)
IF bumblebee ever managed to return to his normal age, I wonder how this experience would affect him.
I can imagine him accidentally calling shockwave sire, but also meaning it despite how sick it makes him feel to admit that to himself. Like now he actually does view shockwave as a parent, even though he wishes he didn’t.
And their parent child spark bond, how does that affect them now?
Maybe this bond has special properties, like perhaps the parent is able to feel/see what their sparklings is feeling to a certain degree, then how would that change the dynamic?
Bee lashes out as usual, maybe he tells shockwave that he doesn’t care about him at all and that he never actually viewed him as a sire and never would.
But shockwave knows better.
He can feel it through their bond, the truth. He can feel the conflicted emotions in bee ( something that I’d imagine would be quite overwhelming considering shockwaves whole thing with emotions) and how hate and love seem to be indistinguishable from eachother, that despite how much bee hates him— he loves him to.
And that means he’s won.
Eventually, he assures himself, bee won’t feel any sort of hate for him. Only love and affection, he just has to keep doing as he has been.
(ALSO, imagine bee as a sparkling trying to curse shockwave out or something, but he can’t speak. So bee is determined to learning to talk, and actually manages to quite quickly.
So it leads to him attempting to say some kind of earth/cybertronian insult to shockwave, but it ends up sounding like sire/carrier (and oh my god imagine if he called shockwave that 😭) which makes shockwave just SO happy and proud).
So sorry for word dumping on you, just couldn’t get this idea out of my head (maybe I’ll write a fic if ur cool with it).
hey what if i told you this is driving me CRAZY. honestly, this au is already edging around being borderline horror at times so this ask is like, right up my alley aksdjksd.
also, i love the horrifying implications of bumblebee still having his memories when he's turned into a sparkling, but not having the same emotional maturity to deal with what's happening. like, everything would instantly be so much scarier than before.
it would be crazy if the team ends up finding bumblebee as a sparkling and immediately knowing that shockwave did that to him, and they'd have to "kidnap" him back into their care HOUHGH. just imagining the mess the team has to fix up when bee gets back to normal and he has to deal with these mixed feelings towards shockwave now.
(and pls don't apologize. i really do enjoy reading asks and i won't complain if you send me a 10 page essay worth of words)
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storytowrite · 3 days ago
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Seven deadly sins (OT8 x F! Reader)
-> Sin Six: Wrath |Lee Minho|
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Genre: Suggestive, Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 927
Warnings: 18+
Summary: Y/N performed every one of the deadly sins and that's means that she's going to hell.
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The man led you to another room, which you hadn't seen before at all. The whole room was decorated in dark colors, mainly black and red. You had a feeling that by some miracle you had ended up in the sixth room, but the room looked more like a prison cell or some kind of interrogation room than a club room. 
You looked around you. The slightly dim lights gave a sense of mystery, intimacy and spookiness. The room was really small - just three leather sofas, small tables and a narrow bar. 
“You will cool down here.” Minho informed you, to which you snorted. 
“I have nothing to cool off with.” You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, which way is the exit? I think I want to go home.” 
“Where to?” He snorted amused and pulled a small roll of paper from his pocket, then unfolded it. “You're Y/N, right?” He made sure. 
“Yes?” You looked at him suspiciously. 
“Well, Y/N. Looking at your bill and how long you've spent at our club, I don't think you're financially solvent enough to leave our club.” He said calmly. 
“What the fuck?” Your voice rose slightly. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, you didn't pay for your last drinks, your card was declined. Changbin didn't inform you?” Minho asked, watching you boil over. “In other words, you don't have enough money to pay for our drinks and our hospitality. That's why you're going to sit here and calm down for a bit while I figure out what you can do to pay us back.” 
“You've got to be kidding me! How much do you think I owe?” You shouted. 
“Hm, let's count... You have to pay twice as much for a visit to each room as you did in the previous one, that is, in the first room only one hundred dollars, in the second room it will come out to two hundred, in the third room four hundred…” He began to calculate. “That is, the total for staying in, now six rooms, came out to .... ah yes! Only three thousand one hundred dollars.” He smiled broadly. He said it as if such an amount was something trivial.
 "I think this is some kind of joke!" You exclaimed in disbelief. "That's impossible! You're lying!" 
"You can accuse me of many things, but not of lying." Minho said seriously. "Well, now you just sit here and wait, I will figure out what to do with you." 
"No, I'm going home. I won't do anything." You growled, fed up with the whole establishment. 
"Well kitten, I don't know if you have anything to talk about here." Minho shrugged. "Unless you have a way to pay." 
"Can I at least call a friend? He should be able to help me." You looked at him with a pleading look. 
"Of course!" He took the phone from his pocket. "Please, call. If it'll help." There was something in his voice that made you feel insecure. Surely Mark, from whom you had been separated for so long, could help you? He was your best friend, after all. Perhaps he would forgive you for your earlier behavior? A friend wouldn't abandon a friend in need, would he? 
You dialed Mark's number. One signal... a second signal... a third... By the fourth, you were getting nervous. Was Mark going to answer?
Unfortunately, Mark did not respond. You tried again. But there was no response. The third time, the call was immediately rejected. You sighed heavily and handed the phone back to Minho. 
" So a friend doesn't help?" The man asked with a mocking smile. 
"Unfortunately, no." You muttered. "But I don't want to sit here. I want to go home." 
"Kitten, I already told you. You have to work off your debt or pay up. Otherwise you can't go home." Minho said with a rather warm voice. "If I cared, I would feel sorry for you, but I don't give a damn. By the way, you could have thought of that earlier." He shrugged. 
You looked at him, and anger began to engulf your entire body. His warm tone of voice was as dismissive as it was mocking, and his mocking smile only added to your anger. You felt like punching him. 
"So what, I'm supposed to sit here like this!" You growled. You started to lose your temper. 
"Yes. When you calm down and all the alcohol Changbin pumped into you flies away, someone will come to get you. Don't worry, you won't have to spend eternity here." He winked at you and headed for the door. You wanted to get up and follow him, but an invisible force stopped you. Minho looked over his shoulder. "You owe it to yourself, you know? Next time, think before you get carried away by your emotions." And with that he disappeared, leaving you alone in the room. 
You were boiling inside. You didn't like Minho's tone of voice at all. You felt betrayed, both by Minho and by the whole system that reigned in the club. You started to blame everyone around you for what happened to you. After all, if it wasn't for Felix, you wouldn't have wanted to stay in the club. If it wasn't for IN, you would have left with Mark. If it wasn't for Hyunjin, you wouldn't have felt betrayed. If it wasn't for Seungmin, you wouldn't have met Changbin. And finally, you wouldn't have been angry when you heard words that were true if it weren't for Minho. 
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-> Masterlist <- Gluttony | Sloth ->
Taglist: @dinogal97 @velvetmoonlght
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lulublack90 · 3 days ago
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Prompt 15 - Conversation
Wolfstar, February 15, word count 991
Previous part First part
After a truly awkward offer of a drink, Sirius found himself on the way to a nearby bar he frequented with Remus.
Crystal came over no sooner had they sat down and greeted him warmly. 
“Mr Black, how are you this evening? Can I get you your usual, and what would your date like?” His jaw tensed as he ground his teeth. Shit this was the last thing he needed to get back to his mother. He’d never brought anyone here. How had she guessed?
“Good, thanks, Crystal. Yes, usual for me and Remus. What would you like?” He looked to Remus at the same time as Crystal did and watched as his ears began to turn pink. He wanted to nibble them. He swallowed, pushing those thoughts away. They wouldn’t do him any good. 
“Oh, erm, just a water, thanks.” He was stammering slightly, but Sirius chose to ignore it. The last thing the poor man needed was to be embarrassed. 
“Are you sure?” Sirius asked. He wasn’t used to people not drinking with him. He had a sudden worry that Remus had only come because he thought he didn’t have another choice. “I’m buying; you can get whatever you want.” He tried again. 
“Waters, fine, thank you. I don’t drink,” Remus told him. Sirius felt a rush of relief, and he smiled warmly at Remus. 
“Scratch my order, Crystal. Two waters, please,” He felt Crystal freeze next to him, but he ignored it. 
“You can drink; I don’t mind, honestly,” Remus said quickly. Sirius reached over the table and took Remus’s hands in his. 
“I’m good. Just enjoying watching you squirm as if I care what you drink.” He felt cheeky. It must be the previous alcohol he’d consumed that was still in his system. Perhaps the water was a good idea after all. 
Crystal brought them their waters, and Sirius was intrigued by the amount of ice the barman had put in the glasses. It was absurd.“I haven’t seen this much ice since the last time I went skating.” He joked, laughing at himself and trying to make Remus relax. He looked tense. “So, Remus, tell me about yourself,” Sirius asked, wanting to know anything about the man sitting opposite him. 
“There’s not much to tell. I live in a shit flat above a shit kebab shop. I work a shit job that pays me just enough to keep my shit flat and feed me shit kebabs from downstairs.” Sirius kept quiet while Remus spoke. He was completely entranced by the man. His words made Sirius realise something, though: Remus was from far humbler origins, and this ridiculous bar was probably way out of his comfort zone. So, Sirius leant over the dark table and said in his sexy voice. 
“I could really go for a shit kebab right now,” He bit his bottom lip and watched as Remus squirmed the lower half of his body. Wow, Remus liked him like that. 
“We could go get one, my treat,” Remus offered, his voice only a little hoarse. Sirius jumped at the chance. He dropped twenty pounds on the table, and when he caught Remus staring at it, he told him. “I tip well.”
Remus offered Sirius his arm like Sirius had done to him impulsively earlier. He smiled shyly at Remus, and they walked out of the bar onto the almost empty street. 
It was only a short walk to Remus’s flat, and with each step, Sirius felt more and more uneasy. 
He was right too, because as they rounded the last corner, he came face to face with his own flat. Shit. 
“Oh, is that the famous kebab shop?” Sirius asked, pointing at the brightly lit shop window below his flat.
“Hmm, oh, yeah, that’s the place.” His heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest. 
“That is an obnoxious amount of neon lights,” He said, squinting his eyes and using his hand to shade the piercing lights from his face. “Is that your flat?” He asked, pointing to the window directly above the shop. 
“Yup,” Remus answered. This was turning into a nightmare. But for some reason he couldn’t fathom, he decided not to tell Remus the truth. 
“Does the light from those shine in?” He asked, moving the conversation away from the flat. Remus nodded and told him about the thick curtains and blind he had that blocked out most of the light. 
“So, kebab then? Don’t get the doner, get the chicken, trust me.”
Sirius didn’t listen and ordered a doner anyway. They sat outside at the metal table and chairs to eat. Sirius took one bite and regretted his decision. “Spit it out,” Remus urged him, laughing as he handed Sirius a napkin. 
“Oh my god, Remus, what the hell is that?” He said in a hushed voice as he furiously wiped his tongue with the rough napkin. He’d eaten his fair share of cheap food, but this was something else.  
“I did warn you. Here,” Remus held out his chicken kebab to Sirius. Sirius leaned over and took a bite, needing to get the horrid taste out of his mouth. He chewed it carefully and swallowed.
“That I will admit is slightly better,” He said, leaning over for another bite. 
They sat there quietly, finishing Remus’s food. Remus dumped the uneaten kebab and his rubbish in the bin. Before turning back to Sirius. 
“So, erm, did you… Did you still want to…” Remus stumbled over his words, not quite able to get anything coherent out. Sirius had no idea what he was doing, but his mouth opened and words came out.  
“Yes, Remus, I still want to come up to your flat,” He said, cheekily. “If only to get a glass of water to get this horrendous taste out of my mouth.” He smacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. 
Sirius took Remus’s, and Remus let him up to ‘his’ flat. 
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idontknowreallywhy · 1 day ago
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WIP Wednesday
I don’t even know what this is but have been toying with it for a while… not what I usually write (except for the fact I’m putting Scott through the wringer as usual) and it doesn’t even necessarily fit in with my actual headcanons as to what’s going on with him. But a ��what if’ came up with an anon ask in the RP and it got me wondering and, well…
Warning for veiled reference to sexy times
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
It was harsh. But it wasn’t exactly new… the tabloids dragged up the old nicknames at every opportunity:
Never Twice Tracy
Thunderbird One-Night-Only
Infamous Flyboy Scott Tracy
Maybe he should reply?
Was this his chance to set the record straight.
But the truth would be worse. Lonely Loser Billionaire wasn’t exactly an improvement on Feckless Flyboy Billionaire…
Leave it.
Just delete it…
“It’s been fun, Flyboy, but we both knew that was all it was, right?”
“I’m just really busy right now, maybe when life lets up a little we could catch up and see.”
“I’ve had a great time but I’m just not in the market for something so… intense… right now.”
Note to self: the knee jerk response of “I can be less intense!” does not help your case, Tracy.
The first dates were always fine - charm, chit chat, a little dancing perhaps. He had learned small talk by his Father’s side so that wasn’t a problem. Keep it light. Don’t talk about anything controversial. Don’t talk about anything dark. Or sad.
Or real.
And usually that led to other things. He just liked to make people happy. And there were certain methods of making women happy that he seemed to be very good at. Just… apparently those were the only ones he was any good at.
Because as soon as he tried to be real, to open up, to be caring instead of merely charming… they ran. It seemed the sort of person who thought they wanted to date Scott Tracy didn’t actually want to date Scott Tracy.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
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