#poor boy only trying to help and save people

[dmitriene]

cw: baby fever, breeding, everything is emotional.

simon riley never discussed a possibility of having a baby with you, and you kept silent either, knowing that the whole family thing is hard to him, both to think about and try to accommodate to, wrap and build it up, and even if he allowed to feel the craving to start a family, take risks and give a new life together, which will rely and depend on both him and you, he'd keep it encased, in his heart, behind a chain mail.

some guy, a former soldier under his lieutenant leadership, a young guy full of future and hope, invited you both to the sip and see party to meet his and his wifey's newborn girl, simon saved him, once, not attaching any importance to it, because for him, it was a matter of his service, but he didn't know that if the boy wasn't been so lucky to have someone who will have time to drag him to the side before the bullet hits him, he would never have known in his life that his wife was pregnant.

that's why you're both here, standing in the spacious, cozy living room, a table with some homemade appetizers and some easy beverages in the corner to your right, the baby crib standing on forgotten, because currently, the little, dovey girl are held in the soothing hands of her momma, rocked side to side, even though she's calm and giggly, looking around the blurry of curious, smiling faces of the people you don't know, but sense that they are a close one to the family, as you continue to watch.

simon is calm, as much as possible, none of the guests look at him as if he's some creep, which helps to create a favorable atmosphere in advance, but he's still out of his skin, a raw nerve, being invited to an event like that, standing beside you with his heavy hand tucking you close, draped around the slope of your waist, and the touch feels like a loose attempt to anchor himself in the moment, as if knowing, that without fail, you would help him, and you do, rubbing a soothing caress over his already paling knuckles.

he felt obliged to come and support the poor guy who was so infinitely grateful to him, so easily decided to invite him into his family, to show him his child, whom he was able to see and will be able to raise only because simon saved him then, smiled understandingly and warmly when he refused to get too close, to try and hold the newborn, although the nervous tremor in his scarred hands was uncontained, as was the slight glint of deep lodged uncertainty in his copper amber eyes.

little by little, the guests begin to talk to each other, mostly with the mother, sitting down on the big sofa in the middle and around, asking easy, curious questions and sharing endless congratulations, leaving the father with the child, he holds her carefully, kisses the top of her head and smiles brightly in response to her deciphered babbles, before he moves, heading towards the kitchen, near you before stopping, almost shifting from foot to foot before looking at simon, stretching out his arms along with the baby.

simon is confused, gazes down to meet the wide, curious eyes of the little girl, her lips pouty as she babbles something giddy and gasps some random sounds, and his eyebrows knit, almost menacingly, with his jaw working along the instinctive clench, yet, the guy doesn't backs away, smiling calmly, murmuring that he has to leave to the kitchen for a couple of minutes, and does not want to interfere with his wife's conversation, so he asks for a small favor, to hold the baby, as she already reaches out with a grabby fists, leaving no other chance.

that's when everything seems to change course, like a jammed hand on a clock, when he takes her in his arms, and she settles in the crook of his elbow, over the twiney muscle that is wound tight from his wrist to his bicep, sinewy, sculpted out of steel and made to break, yet, the little pea lays there as if on feather cushion, curled, glancing up through her long, fluttering lashes, smiling toothlessly up, and you both seem to be blinded out.

meeting each other's eyes, only to see the same kaleidoscope of unnamed emotions reflected upon you in simon's widened eyes, wavering, blinking rapidly over something he can't even comprehend, looking back down, and his scarred hand moves to thumb over the round tummy of the baby girl in his arms, coming up her pinky, full cheeks, marveling at the smoothness of her milk smelling skin, as she giggles to him, pleased and happy, in his arms.

it's overwhelming, out of a sudden, the want, untamed need, to see simon holding a baby that would be yours, to wake up in the morning to her babbles coming out of the crib, with her tiny body curled against his ample chest, sleeping in the protective circle of his scarred, roughened hands, with you leaning over from his side, cradled as close, cooing at her and then seeing the pooling, sun resembling warmth in his crinkled eyes, blanketing over you both.

the drive back home goes hand in hand, grip tight around each other's fingers, as you look out in the window, lost in the unexpected, but somehow welcomed fantasies of the future you didn't knew was that appealing, but you hesitate to voice it out, the images that flash in before your eyes, the clench you feel deep in your gut, something pulling, pooling, reminding of itself with wetness that seeps in through your panties, and even then, you keep silent.

getting back in the house, taking off shoes, outerwear, going further inside, out of the narrow hallway and into the living room, spinning around and letting simon follow you, press up against your back with hands that curl around your waist and sweep over to your stomach, stubble tickling jaw nuzzles in the back of your neck, searing breath stuttering, lips vibrating over a growl that makes you gasp and tumble his name as a needy, shattering, trembling whisper.

you should discuss it better than this, sit and talk, weight it all, but there's a fever, an unbearable pull that makes his fingers rip off your clothes, splay you down and over the cold, rumpled linen beneath your bowing, snapping back, a whisper, plea, coming from his chapped, bitten lips as a rumbled question, to let him get you full, tonight, pump his cum in, with pushing, working thrusts in the gripping, tight clutch of your needy, weeping cunt, and you agree.

between the wide open thighs, supple skin tingling with bruises and muscles cramping, cunt pulsing, gaping around simon's battering movements, rocking back and then ramming in, plunging back the escaping globs of cum your cunt tries to waste out, too full to hold in more of his warm seed, but your hips roll to coerce him deeper, indulging in every inch, pleading, moaning, sobbing, falling in note with his gravelly, wrecked vows to make you pregnant.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[dimalry]

Humour me for a moment, please 🙏

A lot of people like talking about what if there was another Archeron sister? Just like, four instead of three, not like a secret sister. And since I really like your story telling, what do you think she would be like? Where would she fall in the birth order? What would her powers be? Etc. Obviously being that in depth is optional, but I, again, really like your story telling abilities and wanted to see what you would think!

Beware, some drawings look wonky and please excuse the poor dialog. I just drew it all over the weekend.

Meet Edith Archeron:

Let’s start with her past: Edith was born from a scandalous affair between Mr. Archeron and a wealthy lady. To protect her family’s reputation, her mother gave Edith up to the Archerons. It all happened shortly before Mrs. Archeron fell gravely ill and they lost their fortune. So unlike her sisters, she only ever knew poverty.

There was no one to properly raise Edith, even with her family around. Feyre was always out hunting, Nesta and Elain busy with chores, and their father sat uselessly in his chair. Edith grew up without guidance, no education, no manners, and little love. Nesta, angry at their father, would at times take it out on her, Elain was too focused on keeping herself alive, and Feyre believed that keeping them all alive was enough— Once, when Edith asked to join Feyre hunting, her clumsy movements scared off the prey and it frustrated Feyre a lot, she told her to not bother and go back. That’s when she got lost in the woods and got bitten by a magical little plant that infected her body. Without immediate treatment, she’s cursed with a slow, incurable disease. She’s in the early stages in which she can‘t use her bitten leg properly. She didn’t tell her sisters about it, thinking that it’s no big deal. She might not live past her early 20s.

I love to think of Edith as this weird, awkward, nonchalant kid. She‘d spent her time either helping with some chores, sleeping through the day or doing whatever she could outside (not far from the cottage) to entertain herself. She made some animal friends as well, hehe.

She also has no chill when it comes to saying what’s on her mind. Like when the Bat Boys meet the Archeron family for the first time— while Nesta and Elain are trying to stay calm despite their fear of Faeries, Edith just watches that one big bat spit some chewed-up food bits right into her dish. You can imagine how she called him out on it.

On to your question about her powers: She has none. She’s human and stays that way.-> After Tamlin provided them with enough wealth, Edith developed a habit of going out in the middle of the night to dip her feet into the lake. This act saved her from being kidnapped by Hybern‘s beasts when they came and forcefully took Nesta and Elain. It was quite a scare to run back in and find her sisters gone and their rooms destroyed.

While we see each of her sisters healing, finding their purpose in life and accepting their reality in the recent years, Edith starts to wonder about her future. She pretends it doesn’t bother her, but she questions her worth. She has no passions, any goals or a purpose in life and so It’s hard for her to watch her sisters happy while she’s left behind with nothing, merely passing through the days and waiting for the disease to take over. That is until she stumbles upon Bryaxis while trying to find a book with interesting enough pictures and doesn’t require reading.

The friendly, near invisible demon seems to know everything about her. It convinces her to strike a bargain: To live and be like her sisters in exchange for a favor it will call upon. (See the sketch above far right)— Don’t blame her, remember that she wasn’t taught basic survival skills and to be cautious.

It tells her exactly what to do, how to become immortal and powerful. The catch? She has to steal it from Rhysand. It was difficult but she pulled it off. ( Don’t ask how cause Idk. Maybe by using Faebane or something)

Edith now enjoys her new life. For the first time she has something that brings her genuine joy and she becomes quite obsessed with it. She even feels no pain in her left leg anymore! Her sisters though aren’t particularly happy about it and that bothers her a lot. She doesn’t understand what she‘s dealing with, nor that her sisters’ concerns come from love, not hatred. With that, Bryaxis takes advantage of her hurt and confusion and becomes her only „friend“. It speaks to her in mind, whispering manipulations, convincing her that everyone is against her. The more her emotions spiral, the stronger grasp Bryaxis has on her.

(Don’t mind the sketch below far right with the broken wrings, it has no relation to the story. I just thought it looked cool)

There’s a long history between Bryaxis and the royal family of the Night court. Long story short, It was hunted down and forced into servitude by a former High lord. In an act of vengeance, Bryaxis used people as vessels to spread chaos and destruction within this court. Therefor the High lord at that time caged it in the heart of the House of Wind, no one ever allowed to enter the the pit of the library and awaken this monster. (You can keep the scene of Bryaxis scaring the living sh*t out of Cassian when the bat boys were on their rebellious phase. It revealed its true form to him)

Rhysand is completely stripped of his magic and his immortality. You can Imagine how the power-hungry king feels about this. (Not to mention how disastrous it would be if people, within and outside the Night Court, hear a whisper of Rhys‘s current state). Rhys could learn how to view the lower class as more than weaklings.

And finally, when Edith completely loses control does Bryaxis step in and demand that she fulfill her end of the bargain: giving up her very soul to fuse with Bryaxis. Combined, they (more like Bryaxis) destroy everything in their path within the city of Starlight. Though Bryxis cannot venture beyond Velaris, it is more than satisfied with its newfound strength to destroy what’s precious to Rhys.

Feyre, of course, won’t stand for this. Since she cannot defeat Bryaxis without losing Edith in the process, she strikes a compelling bargain. Rhys isn’t at all happy about it.

As punishment, Edith is permanently banned from the Night Court. With Thesan's approval, she‘s sent to reside in the Dawn Court, where she undergoes surgeries and a mental recovery process. Elain decides to temporarily accompany her, working with scholars and scientists to assist in her treatment. Some of the researchers are excited to document her case, particularly the rare disease she contracted. With Elain's help, they manage to create a cure for it.

This is my design of her grown. During her recovery, Edith decided that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to receive an education. In the years that followed, she discovered her aspirations and passions and learns to be content with herself as a human

Don’t forget that Bryaxis is still out there, though no one heard a whisper of it since that incident. What if they meet again? And this time Edith‘s not interested in conserving with it while Bryaxis is kind of obsessed with her. I‘ve also added some love interests for it (see the rough sketches). I personally prefer no love interests, but if people like they can decide between the 2 or have both.

I‘m not quite sure what profession she‘d take. I’m thinking of her in the engineering field, working to progress the human lands maybe? Or she stays in the Dawn Court and work as an historian. Idk.

That was fun. When I first read your ask I actually just wanted to tell you that I‘m not a fan of the 4th sister theory and move on, but I decided to think on it. I wanted to draw it all too, but it didn’t come out right 😬

It’s not going to be a part of my remake though. Just a fun little story that could be applied to the original if people don’t have a problem with Bryxias & Feyre’s first meet up being changed. But thanks to you I have a new oc now! 🤗

[n0eyed-taissa]

sorry but i actually love that season three of yellowjackets turns the viewers' expecation of shauna on their mf heads. since the first season, shauna is our focal character, the one we see the most and know the most about in the present timeline, with the teen post-crash timeline informing how/why she came to be the way she is 25 years later.

through season 1, we THINK that shauna is unhappy in her adult life because of the way she fell to the wayside, lost in jackie's shadow. we THINK that she starts her affair with adam because she's bored with the stagnancy of her life, but after 19 months of life or death survival in the wilderness, any semblance of safety and normalcy would be mind numbingly boring. adult shauna is a stay at home mom. she collects ceramic bunnies and goes to yearly birthday lunches with her dead best friend's parents. it doesn't always read that she has the capacity for cruelty within her, but it's always been there. we see that immediately in the adult timeline as shauna has no qualms about killing the rabbit thats in her garden and preparing it like she would with any other game meat (HOW she killed said rabbit also speaks to her cruelty...bluntly with a shovel, rather than slicing its throat like we see in the wilderness). teen shauna's capacity for cruelty is revealed slower, with the pressure building as shauna fucks her best friend's boyfriend and becomes pregnant with his baby. as she lies to jackie, fights with her, and pushes her away (ultimately leading to jackie's very preventable death, as even taissa points out that jackieshauna's squabbling could be resolved if only she Talked To Her). this capacity for cruelty is then overshadowed by the strength of her grief, which informs the bulk of her season 2 characterization.

in season two, we THINK that adult shauna's actions can be explained by the deep amount of grief she felt at the loss of jackie. and the guilt she holds knowing that she could have saved jackie if not for her own stubbornness, her own cruelty. which is all true! shauna's grief is only heightened by the complications of her pregnancy (re: months of starvation / jackie for dinner / belt soup / starling stew all not providing enough nutrients for neither shauna nor the baby) and the loss of her firstborn child (who is unfairly deified by lottie and her wilderness cult because they, like shauna, are looking for a way to persist through the horrors that they are forced to survive). the psychological fake-out of shauna Feeling and Sensing her child, but not being able to physically reach him or comfort him. similarly to how she Feels and Senses jackie despite not being able to physically reach her. so shauna sits out there in the meat shed with jackie, playing MASH and doing her makeup and talking her literal ear off trying to ignore that she was who put jackie there. and taissa? poor taissa's well-meaning, pragmatic attempt at helping shauna go through the motions of grieving by laying jackie to rest via cremation goes horribly awry when The Wilderness 'decides' that feasting on jackie is the only way for the yellowjackets to stay alive. and if grieving jackie isn't bad enough for shauna, she loses one child and then is forced to butcher another. javi was a little boy!!! and was clearly shauna's surrogate brother/son figure in season 1!! so YEAH, if i just ate my best friend in a not-fun-gay-way, lost my wilderness pregnancy but hallucinated that i didnt (and also hallucinated/dreamt that my teammates helping me through labor ATE said baby because that's something that they Do Now) ((also x 2, if my whole soccer team saw my v*gina i'd become evil too lbr)), then had to carve up and eat one of the few people i had the ability to feel soft/protective towards, i think i too would be Not Doing Well!!!!!

so yeah, in the months before season three, i am absolutely not surprised that shauna's unchecked grief has turned into anger. months and months of lottie's religious fanaticism asserting that the loss of the baby was a sacrifice to the wilderness that brought on the miracle of spring is incredibly dismissive to shauna's experience with pregnancy and grief/loss. we see in season 2 that lottie (and others) had attached themselves to the baby as a factor to motivate their survival, but lottie always took it one step further, claiming group parentage (ownership? of "our baby" aka shauna's baby, aka the team's motivation to survive). as lottie's mental state continues to deteriorate, her dedication to the wilderness, its messages, and its sacrifices reaches a new level of intensity (as proven by her consistent attempts to sway travis and akilah into connecting with 'it', even when both characters voiced their concern about the potential dangers). of course shauna wants nothing to do with the summer solstice ceremony, even when she is being honored as The Mother of The Child. she doesn't want to be honored for hers/the child's sacrifices, she wants to grieve!! and honestly, the only healthy grieving we see from shauna come in episodes 1&2, as she vents in her journal about the current state of her world and then reburies the child on her own terms. of course shauna is carrying resentment for coach scott ditching her in labor (only to later flee the scene after the cabin was burned down). of course shauna is power hungry, she was made to feel secondary to jackie her entire adolescence and now has been stripped even further of her autonomy. so shauna results to some desperate measures in order to reclaim her identity within the group. BUT!!! shauna's rightful anger causes her to lash out in some un-rightful ways. her capacity for cruelty outweighs her grief. her competitive edge resurfaces during the game of capture the bone, where she tackles/bites mari as a ill attempt at reclaiming her power and autonomy. she spits in mari's food, doesnt offer to help find her. she wants to make coach scott pay for what she THINKS that he did, so much so that she strong-arms the rest of the team to vote ben guilty. she wants to burn him at the stake???? and then enables melissahat to slice ben's achilles???? she restrains the scientists who can offer them all a way home. she shoots at melissa, the only person who has been exhibiting any softness/kindness towards her. the more shauna gives into her anger, the more primal and connected to the wilderness she is. the more she comes into her own power, the less she wants to go back home and fade back into the shadows. she wanted this. she always had the power to become this. why are we surprised about how she ended up 25 years later?

[frog-in-a-dew]

Help me choose a design for this oc please??

The last one is the closest one to me in spirit rn, but it still missing something??

Any criticism is both wanted and accepted, just plz be gentle my frog heart is fragile 😔

[apocalypsegay]

the way disco elysium plays with and ultimately shatters the concept of "camaraderie" in the police and the military truly is So. Good.

it introduces you to kim who is this ideal of the Brother in Arms - you meet him and you know. he'd lay it all down for you.

you then proceed to realize this is a kim thing, not a cop thing, despite the skill that informs you about it being The Cop Camaraderie skill

the rest of the cops are not just unhelpful, they're cruel. they're a boys' club of toxic masculinity, homophobia and joking about how they abuse their power, like when jean stole mustard from a homeless man. if harry begs them for help, the greatest kindness the operator can do for him is pretend he didn't hear and cut the connection to save harry's pride. the more you put into this skill, the more the rancid underbelly of policing and policemen as individuals in this system comes to light.

and that's before we get into the plot-relevant stuff, how martinaise was abandoned by jean and co because jean was too damn busy trying to make a point to harry than do his fucking job.

then there's the bond between the paramilitary squad. unlike the cops, they're tight, a family to each other, and it makes them completely immune to reason the moment the Head of their hierarchy gets murdered. and this head of theirs, the most rational, most charismatic of them all, their leader, still was a monster who, for His Men and their Morale, saw kidnapping some poor girl and offering her like a human sacrifice to the pit of animals that was his squadron as a Rational course of action.

maybe there's love there, in a way, but it's the kind of love that wholly depends on seeing your circle as the only people deserving of life, and the rest of the world as insects.

and i think abt how so many other stories that try to be cop or military critical still fall into that trap of believing that the people in these environs are a Family doing their Best, that they got each others back and thats all that they need to get through this!(whatever plot event is happening)

and not that its like. a cesspool of keeping each other in Check or maintaining that Family only by Othering the rest of the world

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie who kind of flop in life and end up poor, living in a trailer in a different small town living quiet lives of no import.

The kids, Robin, Nancy, and Johnathan all seem to take the small handful of opportunities offered to them by the government in the aftermath of the Upsidedown to take off and make something of their lives. They're off writing headlines, making news, and living their lives to the best of their abilities, but Steve and Eddie find themselves stuck.

Steve stayed in Hawkins until the kids graduated and left for college. By then Nancy, Johnathan, and Robin are all in their second or third years of college. John and Nancy have their own apartment in New York together and don't reach out all that often, only seeing the rest of the Hawkins crew on Holidays and some vacations. Robin is flourishing at an all-women's college in Maine and has a partner and a cat and plans for graduate school brewing. She's always saying Steve can come out and join her whenever he's ready, but when the time comes it feels like he would just be trying to insert himself in the middle of a life he doesn't know how to fit into, so he turns to Eddie instead.

Eddie is permanently disabled in a number of ways following the events of season four. He struggles with chronic pain, has breathing issues due to the loss of part of his right lung, and lost enough muscle mass in his left leg that walking will never be easy or done without the use of a walker or arm bar crutches. The doctors said he recovered as well as he could have. The kids said he would get better with time. Wayne said it didn't matter if he never got better, he could do anything he set his mind to.

Steve is the only person who tells him the truth.

Steve tells him that it sucks. Tells him that it will probably always hurt. Doesn't give him false hope when he's trying to grieve the loss of the life he wanted to live. The goals he wanted to reach. When he falls deeper and deeper into himself, stuck in the muck of depression, Steve is the only person he lets in. The kids try their best but their lives are moving fast, and taking care of someone like Eddie is exhausting, no matter what they try to say. Eventually, everyone but Dustin gives up on reaching out, the younger boy showing up every Sunday to try and get Eddie out of the house. He always leaves disappointed.

When Steve asks him if he wants to use what's left of their partly government payouts and Steve's equally meager Family Video savings to buy a truly shitty trailer in a town an hour and a half south of Hawkins in the fall of 1990, it feels like the first boon he's been given in almost five years. He'll never be who he could have been if he had ignored Chrissy that day in 86', but he's always thought maybe he could be more than a ghost between Wayne's walls if he could just get out of this god-forsaken town full of people who know too much and too little of what's happened to him.

They get the trailer, pack what little they have, let Wayne hug them close, and leave.

Steve has already transferred to their new town's Family Video, moving up to claim the dubious honor of being the opening manager. Mostly he just unlocks the door, signs into the computer, and makes sure nothing catches fire. Eddie hoped that moving would miraculously make him fit to enter back into the world, but he spends most of his days with a blanket on the front porch, watching people pass by. He does, though, finally accept that he needs to apply for disability to help Steve keep the lights on and the water hot. That last little bit of hope that he could be what he used to be dies, but he's learning to be content with what he does have. He starts taking a walk, just ten minutes around the loop of the trailer park saying hi and trading polite nods with his fellow residents. He's not ok, but he's starting to build a new community of people not too different from himself.

The new trailer only has one bedroom. Eddie sleeps on a fold-out mattress in the living room. It had been a major argument when they first moved in with Steve insisting that Eddie needed the bed. Eddie argued that it wasn't fair for him to take the room when Steve was the one working 40 hours a week to keep them afloat. In the end, Eddie was the more stubborn of the two. It helps that Eddie has absolutely no qualms about crawling into bed with Steve on the nights when the couch bed really won't cut it for his aching body. Steve never questions it, just shuffles over a little and lets the other man in.

Steve doesn't question a lot of stuff.

He doesn't question when all their effects are shared between them with no effort to distinguish between yours and mine, Eddie's and Steve's. He doesn't question it four months in when Eddie starts to get his feet under him and decides to take up cooking, always trying his best to have everything done just as Steve walks through the door. He doesn't question when a good chunk of Eddie's first disability check goes to buying Steve a sturdy, if not very fashionable, new watch for his birthday since his old one went bust almost a year ago.

He doesn't question it when Eddie holds his hand for the first time under the stars hanging above their front porch.

He doesn't question it when Eddie introduces him to one of his new neighbor friends with a hand resting comfortably on his lower back

He doesn't question it when Eddie starts sleeping in the bedroom every night.

Or makes him box mix cupcakes for Valentine's Day.

Or kisses him for the first time on the couch that's never a bed unless they want to spend the day binge-watching bargain bin films.

Because really, isn't this how it was always going to go? Wasn't this exactly what Steve was asking for when he asked Eddie to skip town with him?

Isn't this what Eddie was hoping for when he said yes?

[kettlefire]

Not so Different. (DcxDp)

The stunned silence was louder than the rest of the gala had been. Every single pair of eyes were wide with shock, fear, and even concern. The last sound to have left the patrons was scattered gasps at the reveal.

It was meant to be simple. A new up and coming technological company had put all their savings into this. A huge gala to show of the reason the world needed their technology. Needed their help.

No one believed it. Truly, who could have? A large group of men and women dressed purely in white suits, spouting about the threats of ghosts. It was insane and impossible.

Many of the big names that attended today only came for publicity. The notoriety that came with having been there when this company crashed and burned in one night.

It's the only reason Bruce Wayne was even among the crowd. Accompanied by Oliver Queen and his own son, Dick Grayson. As much as Bruce hadn't wanted to be here, he knew his reputation was important to keep up.

That was until two agents stepped out onto a stage they had at the back of the large room. A thick curtain had kept the sight behind it completely hidden from the patrons. Until the moment was right. That was when the thick curtain had suddenly been ripped back, as a third man took a microphone and began to explain.

But his words fell on deaf ears. Especially for the three secret vigilantes in the crowd. Not a single person could tear their gaze away from the cage that now stood in full view.

It wasn't the cage that had everyone enraptured. No, it was the glowing creature curled up in the center of it. No, not a creature. It was a boy. Still baby faced and youthful. Too young to be in a cage.

A high-tech muzzle was securely wrapped tightly against the boy's mouth. His knees pulled tight to his chest, one arm wrapped around them. His other hand pressed tight against the muzzle, seeming to almost be trying to keep it in place.

The boy's toxic green eyes were wide, filled with a clear intensity of pain and terror. There were old tear stains on his cheeks, quickly being replenished with fresh tears. His messy, bright white hair fell into his face. The boy looked both like he wanted to look away, but also like he couldn't. Like he couldn't risk not seeing the threat coming.

It didn't take a genius to see the boy was in pain. Human or not, this went beyond inhumane treat. Making minds racing with thoughts of what else these people had done to the poor boy.

Bruce knew in this moment that this company had just caught the attention of Batman. Based on the look in Oliver's eyes, they also just collected the wrath of the Justice League as well. Bruce hadn't even needed to look at Dick to know he was on the same page.

It went unnoticed by any other patrons. All the focus was glued on the stage, on the lecture and caged boy. No one noticed when Bruce Wayne slipped his phone of his pocket. When he hit a singular speed dial as he turned away from the show. He brought his phone to his ear as he silently signaled his trusted allies to keep an eye on it.

[dismalflo]

All this time

James potter x fem!reader who have been oblivious to each others feelings ✩ 1.2k words

cw; Idiots in love, mutual pining, fluff

an; first james fic!! my requests are open

If the mark of a smart man was knowing when he was defeated, then James Potter was the smartest man on earth. When it came to you he was utterly defeated, no matter how much he tried to deny it. 

‘Oi Prongs! Stop staring at the poor girl, you'll scare her off.’ Sirius teases stopping the trance James seemed to be in. He would like it noted he wasn’t staring, he was gazing. It sounds much more romantic that way he thought.

A rough, but familiar arm drapes over his shoulders as James turns to reply only to be met with Sirius’ knowing smirk, taunting him. He’s never been able to hide from or lie to Sirius. 

‘Oh god, I’m fucked.’ James moans, putting his head in his hands to avoid Sirius’ laugh.

‘You need to pull yourself together, mate. This is embarrassing even for you.’ A hard slap on the back and Sirius slinks away back to Remus’ lap. A part of him wishes it was Remus that caught him, at least he gives some advice before walking away laughing.

He glances over at the boys, only to be met with Remus’ encouraging nod towards you which he promptly ignores.

Before he was caught, James was observing you standing in the kitchen of Sirius and Remus’ flat talking to Lily and Marlene, you’d all sat down for the first time in forever to eat a good meal, have a drink and catch up with each other. He’s surrounded by all the people he loves, and yet when he thinks of who he wants the attention of his head just says; you, you, you. 

For a while James tried flirting with you, but you never reciprocated or seemed to take notice of it, so the only thing James can think is that you really don’t like him and that you might even find him bothersome. He's okay with fancying you from afar now, he's used to it.

He perks up again when he hears the sound of your laughter, looking up he sees Lily whispering something in your ear and the next thing he knows you’re looking directly at him. Oh shit. He's been caught and you’re going to think he's terribly creepy and never talk to him again. Oh fuck. 

He looks back down at the beer in his hand, as he tries to get the blush painting his cheeks under control. The next thing he knows there's a gentle hand tapping his shoulder, and looking up he sees the wonderful angel of a girl, you, who is surely here to let him down gently. You’re too kind to be mean about his obvious pining, he thinks.

‘Can we go have a chat?’ you say in the sweet tone you always seem to have.

He nods, trying to act casual, his heart clenching. This was it, he could already picture the awkward, pitying look in your eyes as you explained how sorry you were that you didn't return his feelings.

He stands up, forcing a smile, and follows you into the other room, not before sending a pleading glance at Sirius to be saved. You turn to face him, your expression unreadable. You seem fidgety, almost nervous?

‘So,’ you start, voice a little hesitant. ‘Lily said something earlier and I thought it was a joke, but she said I should ask you about it.’

‘Oh, what did she say?’ His voice was shaking with nerves.

You shift your weight on your feet, biting your lip. “It was about… you, actually. And me.”

"Oh." He nods, gaze pinned on the wall unwilling to meet your eyes. "Right. Okay." James is begging for you to get this over with, in his head.

You hesitate for a moment, and James looks up to find you watching him intently, your eyes searching his. ‘She said that you fancy me? And I wanted to know if it was true or if she’s just teasing me.’

‘Why would she be teasing you about that?’ James can't help but think this must be a joke at his expense and he definitely doesn't like this one.

‘Well… i think it's quite obvious that i've fancied you forever James.’ 

James feels like the floor drops out from under him. His brain stops processing, and for a few seconds, he’s sure he’s just imagining it. He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He’s sure this is a joke, a cruel one at that. His brain catches up and he remembers that you wouldn't be so cruel, neither would any of his friends in the other room. 

‘You... you do?’ he finally manages, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud might break whatever spell has been cast on the moment.

You nod, a soft awkward smile tugging at your lips, and he swears his heart is about to beat out of his chest. ‘Yeah... I don’t know, you’re just so kind and sweet and pretty.’ You sigh, running a hand through your hair, clearly frustrated with yourself.

James realises all at once that he has been so incredibly wrong, so blind, this is ridiculous. 

He can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, but as soon as he sees the look on your face—your eyes wide, a little hurt, and confused—he immediately regrets it.

‘Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,’ he stammers, his hands instinctively reaching for your shoulders, his fingers brushing the soft fabric of your shirt. ‘I didn’t mean to laugh like that. I just... I can’t believe it, that’s all. I’ve been such an idiot. I like you too. A lot. You never seem to like it when I try to flirt with you.’

You bite your lip, nodding, but James can see the hesitation in your eyes. He feels a pang of guilt, wishing he could take back the stupid laugh.

‘I—I just thought you’d never notice me like that. I’m always so... all over the place, and I thought maybe you thought I was annoying or... I don’t know,’ his voice drops and he sounds unsure of himself now, so different to the James Potter you know.

‘James’ you whisper, your hand gently covering his, the warmth of your skin grounding him. ‘I never thought you were annoying. I thought you were... funny and smart and so kind. I just didn’t know how to—well, I thought you were just joking around with me. I didn’t want to make things weird if that's all it was.’

He takes a step closer, moving one hand from your shoulder to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the stray hair there. ‘I can’t believe this. You’ve liked me all this time?’ He repeats, still in disbelief.

You nod slowly, and it’s like the weight of everything you’ve both been avoiding comes crashing down on him. The relief that floods through his chest is almost overwhelming. He looks at you with all the adoration he's been trying to hide these past few months.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he whispers, those words only meant for your ears. Your gaze softens as you step closer to him, tilting your chin up, inviting.

‘Yes please.’

[bitchface24-7]

Hiii! How are you? I hope you had a wonderful day. Now, I'm here with an idea, I was thinking what if Jayce (and maybe Viktor, but I don't know how to make it work) traveled to another reality, like Ekko, but in this reality nothing of what happened happened. I mean, yeah, the explosion happens and blah blah blah, but in this world reader doesn't die (I love angst I'm sorry) and that helps Viktor not turn into the herald and try to kill everyone. I don't know, just a thought, you can use it to inspire yourself or not, that's perfectly fine. If you do write it thank you, and if you do not thank you anyways. Love your blog, keep on like that 😘

THE ONE’S THAT GOT AWAY - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Jayce isn’t sure how he got here. Did the older Viktor he met who was a mage cast the spell wrong, was it when he and Viktor accepted fate in the cosmos, or was it his gift from the gods he no longer believes in, bringing him back to the two most important people in his life. One of them he died with. The other died much earlier.

warnings: MCD undeath (you're all alive now, hurrah! But the death with be mentioned), Jayce thinking he’s gone mad, crying, comfort, a world where EVERYONE IS ALIVE, poor Jayce; we’re so mean to him. Plot twist… Grammarly is my beta.

genre: m/f or m/m (with a realization of m/m/f or m/m/m)

p.s. Y'all just like putting my boy through the ringer!! Hopefully, he gets his peace here.

Jayce is scared. He's only in his early thirties and he's going to die. Everything is destroyed, their lab, their dreams, their future. All blowing in the wind like ashes, and the ground is stained with blood.

This was never supposed to happen. Hextech was meant to improve lives not become… what it became. You, Jayce, and Viktor were supposed to live long, happy lives. Maybe move out of the city, find a small town and live in a cozy cottage. Or even find a nice house in Piltover where you're in prime real estate. The markets and transit not too far from us.

But all of that is dead now. You died from a dormant virus in your body, it was waiting to strike when you were most happy. Your family has had it in their bloodline for years; and you didn't tell anyone.

You died in your sleep, painlessly, peacefully. Neither Jayce or Viktor knew until they went to your apartment to check on you, it wasn't like you to not come into the lab, not unless you told them before hand.

It was almost like you were sleeping. Your face was at ease, your body stiff. Jayce could lie to himself and say you were in a deep sleep, but he knew the truth. You were dead. Your chest wasn't moving, you were cold to the touch, and there was no pulse.

Viktor stood there horrified, before trying his best to find some sign of life. The more he looked, the more desperate he became. Jayce was frozen. He had finally asked you out on a date, it happened just a few days ago. You shared a kiss. Now you're dead.

Jayce silently walks to the home-phone attached to your wall and calls an ambulance, explains the situation in the most monotone voice he's ever produced, and quietly hangs the phone up; not even hearing what the phone opperator told him.

But he does hear Viktor crying, his hand over his mouth muffling sobs. Jayce walks over to him on autopilot and hugs him as tightly as he can and Viktor collapses into his arms.

They don't move until the paramedics come.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After that, everything went downhill. Sky went missing, Hextech was made into weaponry, he and Viktor’s relationship became strained, the council room explodes due to a bomb, Viktor dies, Jayce breaks his promise to destroy the hexcore, he uses it to revive Viktor, turns out Sky died due to the hexcore.

Viktor leaves.

And Jayce is all alone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor's become a herald of some kind; a messiah. Healing the ill and injured in the Under— Zaun. He talks to Jayce through Salo, mentions all his accomplishments, and wishes he had this power back then to save you.

Jayce winces.

He kills Salo and goes to the commune, he kills Viktor.

Then the Machine Herald is born.

Viktor tries to get Jayce to be his partner again, desperately missing him, and you. It doesn't work.

They fight, they reunite, they die together in a massive glow of white.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce jolts up from his bed, frantically patting his face and his body. What the hell is going on?

He's alive? How is he alive?! He died with Viktor in the cosmos, he shouldn't be here right now! He's panicking until a familiar hum interrupts his thoughts.

“Hi, sweetheart! I know those meetings with the council are exhausting so I brought your coffee to yo— what happened?!” You gasp, and Jayce bursts into tears. You place the mug of coffee onto the dresser and rush over to Jayce to hug him.

You're here too, you're alive. Your hair is the same, your smile is still blindingly bright, and your signature scent washes over Jayce as he sobs even harder; barely breathing.

“Oh Jayce whats wrong? Was it a nightmare? You don't have to tell me, I'm right here. I'll always be here.”

Jayce’s cries become much louder at that and you start to panic. You've never seen Jayce cry like this— ever. This is gut-wrenching to see, and you're gonna need another set of hands to help you.

“Viktor! A little assistance please!”

Jayce's cries stop momentarily but pick up when the other man enters the bedroom. He's here too. He's alive too. And he looks so good, so healthy. He still has prominent cheek bones, and he still has dark circles under his eyes; but he looks like when Jayce first met him, if not even healthier. His posture is much better, his leg brace is gone, but he's still using his cane. His hair is longer too, with the blonde highlights he briefly saw before his chest was caved in due to his hammer.

A look of confusion sits on the mans face before a brief look of understanding flashes by. So quickly that if you blinked, you would've missed it.

“Oh my loves, what’s happened?” Viktor quietly asks as he goes to Jayce's other side, completing the goup hug. Jayce has never felt more safe as he has between you two.

“I don't know,” you state, a worried furrow of your brow gives away how scared you are, “I just came into the room and he broke down. Maybe it was a nightmare?”

Viktor nods before looking imploringly at Jayce, “Maybe it could be he’s been bottling everything up and finally reached his breaking point?”

Jayce squirms under the truthful accusation, and looks anywhere but to the two of you, “Jayce! You're allowed to come to us when you need it! I thought we agreed, no more suffering in silence.”

A light shrug is what you get for your reprimand, “Its a hard habit to break.”

You coo and run you hand through his dark hair, his beard tickles your nose when you kiss his cheek, “I know sweetheart, but we’re here for you. How about this,” you offer, “I make your favourite breakfast, Viktor stays here with you and then we all eat together. Sound good?”

Jayce wants to say no. He just got you back, and he can't handle losing you again, but at Viktors look— one he's well acquainted with when he wants to talk in private. He gives in and agrees to your bargain.

You give both of them a kiss on the forehead and leave the bedroom. Keeping the door open so you can hear them if they need anything from you.

Jayce sniffles and looks at Viktor, Viktor looks back at him in understanding. “You weren't expecting this, huh? Neither was I. Luckily for me I had my panic attack last night. I was able to find journals to read to realize where I was.”

“You’re my Viktor?”

“I’m your Viktor.”

Jayce sighs, “Where the hell are we, Viktor? They're alive. We’re in a room I’ve never seen before. You're the healthiest I've ever seen you, and your hair is different.”

“What did you think about before dying?”

A long silence is held before Jayce demurely responds, “A world where the three of us were happy. In the perfect house with our perfect lives. Nothing major has gone wrong, nobodies died, there was no war, Hextech succeeded. You know… the usual.”

Viktor just looks at the man and hugs him tightly, brushing his nose into the crook of his neck, “I thought along the same line. Now we’re here; I guess this is our happy ending? For all the pain and suffering we went through.”

Jayce sighs, he feels a headache forming, “Isn’t this wrong? We’re not… we’re not their Jayce and Viktor. We could be missing years of memories that we’ll never get to know about.”

Viktor chuckles, “We’re scientists Jayce. We write everything down, besides, I got them to tell us the story of how we all got together.”

“We… all… what? Write down— what are you saying?”

Viktor looks coyly at Jayce, “We wrote everything down, like a journal. And for all of us— you two started dating, but really nothing changed. And the things you two did for one another; you did for me too. You came to the hilarious realization that, you love me too.”

Jayce quirked an eyebrow, a little offended, “Hilarious?”

“You burst into the lab startling the two of us and yelled, “ARE WE ALL DATING?!” In a panicked, frenzied tone. They just looked at you and said, “I thought we were all on the same page, guess not.” And you fainted. I almost pissed myself in laughter.”

Jayce sputters, his face going red. He’s not that oblivious, is he? He thinks back on his interactions with you, with Viktor, and with the two of you together; and comes to a startling conclusion.

“Oh… oh no. I’m an idiot. How come I never realized?!”

Viktor pats his cheek in solidarity, “You’re a very intelligent man, Jayce Talis. But that doesn’t mean you’re smart in other areas of life.”

“Oh geez. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The two men hear your voice from the kitchen, “C’mon you two, breakfast is ready! We still need to get our formal wear from the tailor for the Distinguished Innovators Competition later tonight. We’re the judges this time, we can’t be late and I want to see what Powder and Ekko invented!

Jayce is gobsmacked and Viktor chuckles at him, “Turns out perfecting Hextech makes us quite famous in the science world. We’re highly sought after guest speakers at the academy, explaining our success in transportation, ventilation, plant-life, and medicine. Our lovely partner is a professor at the academy for all students mandatory English class. Powder and Ekko are their favourite student’s; but they’ll never admit it.”

Jayce feels like crying again, this time in happiness, “This is really real. This is our life now?”

“It’s really real. Now c’mon, I’d rather not get hit with a spatula because I came late to eat.” Viktor gets up, gets his cane and leaves the room. Jayce sits there stunned for a few seconds before following him, getting his mug of coffee of the dresser.

When he sees you standing there, all proud of the food you made for them, Jayce’s heart melts.

He deserves this.

You all deserve this.

And with that, he eats the most delicious breakfast he’s ever had, with two people he adores.

AHHHH!!! This idea was so good! I hope I balanced out the angst and the fluff well. This is so *mwah* love ya ❤️

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out he’s really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.

Staining

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.

Words: 4100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

“You’re heartless”—that’s what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes. 

He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children. 

He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means you’ll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.

As he announced the options for their future, you couldn’t look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husband’s question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldn’t. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover. 

You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriors—guaranteed entertainment a few years down the line. 

So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their mother’s fingers—who left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her hands—before dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks. 

Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didn’t know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from. 

She’ll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, that’s where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man. 

Long after his guards have departed with the woman, you’re still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. He’ll stain your skin. He’ll stain through your skin onto your insides. He’ll never come off. 

He’s like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didn’t even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and you’re in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet words—that kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formality’s sake. 

You don’t know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of you…a solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who don’t deserve it.

So that’s why you say it. Because you’re tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that you’re a team. 

“You’re heartless.”

His head whips to you. “Heartless…” His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. “I’m heartless?”

Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy. 

“I’m not the one who steals from his neighbors. I’m not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,” he says. “They know the laws. They know the consequences.”

“And the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?”

“You take issue with how I handle things?”

“Yes.”

Feyd’s back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. “Another reason for you to hate me then,” he grits out.

You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You don’t have multiple reasons, and there’s certainly nothing you’ve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didn’t, and doesn’t, care about you, but you’ve never said a word about it. You’ve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. This—his treatment of his people in situations like this one—isn’t another reason. It’s the reason. 

“You could deal with these matters differently,” you say.

His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. “This is how things are done here,” he says. “You’ve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.”

—

You don’t get used to it. You don’t get used to it because he doesn’t demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day. 

You’d never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron don’t bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it. 

However, you imagine they didn’t expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when you’re forced to join the Harkonnen’s for dinner, you imagine they’re now aware that whatever was between you—minute as it was—is gone. He doesn’t even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.

You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feyd’s choices, you’re not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You don’t need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, they’ll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, they’ll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And you’re not ready for that. 

So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one. 

People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. It’s a tactic. A genius one, if you’re honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.

You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesn’t see. 

Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You don’t think to speak to any of them; you didn’t break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feyd’s cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.

He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesn’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesn’t seem to click. 

“You–”

“I’m going to retire for the night,” you tell him. You’ve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means they’ll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. They’ll stop searching for your presence. 

You don’t wait for your husband’s nod of approval. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.

The echo of footsteps follows and you’re bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husband—retaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since you married him—but the voice in your ear is feminine. 

“He killed my husband, my Lady,” the voice says, and you instantly remember her. It’s been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. “I want my sons.”

You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. “I can’t return your sons to you,” you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges. 

You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. “You’re the na-Baronness.”

“I have little power here.”

“I don’t care!” she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. “I want my boys,” and you think now she’s crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. “What’s happened to them?”

You don't wish to tell her, but you’re in no position to deny her requests. “They’re alive and well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fighters—the duels last longer that way. 

“I want them back!”

“As much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. It’s not my decision.”

“Then I’ll take you from him,” she spits. “The way he took mine.”

You must’ve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he won’t blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely. 

“He won’t care,” you tell her. 

“I have seen him, my Lady. He will care,” she says, and you don’t know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. It’s not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. “He will–”

She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feyd’s knife deep in her side. 

Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.

The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. They’re a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with you—the pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake. 

Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.

He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor. 

Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other. 

“No, don’t!” you yell, but you’re too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson. 

Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but it’s useless. “Don’t you know anything?” you mutter. “You should’ve kept the damn thing in.”

He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think he’s trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles. 

“It’s alright,” he says, and you’ve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.

“No, it’s not,” you retort, irritated. 

“You still hate me?”

“Shut up!” you snap. “Help!” Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. “Help!” 

Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Feyd…” 

You’re shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then he’s taken from you. You watch them until he’s out of view. When you glance down at your hands, they’re stained with him. 

—

They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldn’t work as efficiently on him. You’ve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember he’s a glutton for pain. He’s probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But you’re not enjoying it—the waiting, the limbo. It’s torturous. 

You’ve never seen him hurt before. You’ve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him. 

Guilt hits you hard as you recall that it’s your fault. That woman was skilled as well—you suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she did—but if you hadn’t made that noise, if you hadn’t distracted him, she would’ve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldn’t have happened. 

Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. “My Lady…” he says, and you pray you’re not about to be told your husband didn’t survive a single stab wound. “You can come with me.”

You don’t wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until you’re at his room. 

“What will I see when I walk in there?” you ask. 

“He’s fine, my Lady,” he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post. 

Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but he’s not in it. He’s not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting. 

You make your way in further. 

“You’re here.” 

Your head snaps to your right where he’s leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. He’s less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin. 

Clearing your throat, you say, “I was told to come.”

“Because I told them to bring you,” he says. 

Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it. 

He must see your distraction because he says, “It’s fine.” Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. You’re unsure how to continue now that he’s seen the concern you have for him. “I suppose you’re disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you repeat. “What for?”

“I’m alive.”

Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, “Feyd, I don’t want you to—I’ve never wanted you to–”

He holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m going to listen to you.”

Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? “Listen to me about what?”

He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as they’ve always done, but the iciness is gone. “I don’t care if the people I hurt want to kill me,” he starts. “But she didn’t come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.” He pauses, expecting a response, but you don’t quite know what to give him, so he continues. “Your voice will make fewer enemies.”

“You care about making enemies?” Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.

“I care when they come after my wife,” he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. You’re stuck to your spot. “The men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. They’ve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. I’m not going to let you be one of them.”

He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. “Why didn’t you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.”

“Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to kill her if I didn’t have to,” he says. “So I didn’t kill her…until I had to.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t know he was capable of such restraint. You didn’t know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases. 

His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasn’t touched you…ever. In fact, he’s seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, he’d pull back before flesh grazed flesh. 

“You hadn’t kissed me since we married,” he says, so gentle in that low voice that it’s practically a whisper. It doesn’t make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin. 

“People were watching too intensely,” you inform him. “They were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didn’t want to give them that power over you.”

“So that was it, then?” he asks. “That’s the only reason you did it?”

“That’s–” you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more. 

“What?”

“That’s the reason I did it,” you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner you’ve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do it.”

He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head. 

You can’t stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. You’ve always known it. It’s always done something to you. And whatever that something is, it’s more potent now that he’s so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light. 

“Will you do it again?” he asks.

Again? You didn’t imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you can’t bring yourself to say no. You don’t want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his. 

Immediately, he’s yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. He’s good at this, and you don’t want to think about why, can’t think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. You’re in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and he’s on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him. 

You don’t know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and he’s inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what he’s done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that he’s giving you. You’re selfish, maybe that’s it. Maybe you’ve always been and you didn’t know it. You can’t bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.

After you’re sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things you’ve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you can’t go back and that you don’t want to. You’ve wanted this from the beginning, despite what he’s done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. You’re definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.

“I want something from you,” you say. He hums, content. “I want us to take in that woman's boys.”

[flamingpudding]

That's our baby hero

Protective Amity Park Au but maybe not like you would think?

Danny's identity wasn't as hidden as Sam, Tucker, Jazz and him thought. His identity was an open secret, in fact his whole town knew that Danny was their hero Phantom, well everyone but his oblivious parents but they were a case of their own. The thing was his entire town knew about his oh so big secret identity and that he was the one trying to save them from ghosts 90% of the time as well as from his own parents crazy inventions at times.

Dash shoving him into lockers like a bully? Danny didn't look good and Dash tried in crude ways to give him reasons to skip classes to rest. It also later was a good move to hide him from snoopy government agents also known as the Guys in White or GIW for short. Really his bullying played perfectly into him finding creative ways to get Danny to skip classes for rest.

Valerie hunting him and other ghosts? Well she was hunting him in the very beginning, but then it became an attempt to make him stop fighting the ghosts on their behalf but in the end it turned into her trying her best to be the support to him that Sam and Tucker couldn't be in a fight. Let alone taking 'night shifts' from him so Danny could get at least a good nights rest every now and then.

Sam's parents the Mansons? Sure they didn't like him that much from the start anyway but most of their anger later stemmed from the danger their daughter was willingly get into to help their reckless teenhero that shouldn't be a hero at his age anyway. Let alone shoulder the responsible for their entire town at the age of 14.

Tuckers parents? They were glad any time Danny stayed over with their son, even attempting to subtitle convince the boys to have more sleepovers at their home. Surely being a hero with ghost powers and living in a house of ghost hunting parents wasn't easy on Danny. They were glad that they could give him some peace at their home. They willingly ignored it when Danny showed up late night in Tuckers room, getting patched up by their son.

The entire town apparently hating him with all these negative newspapers and comments? All fake in a desperate attempt to get the 14 years old teenager with a bad sleeping schedule and powers to stop risking his damned life, half-life. Surely if they appeared not thankful the kid would get the hint and stop playing hero. Like seriously he was a kid! Who's bright idea was it to let a kid fight these dangerous appearing ghosts?! Oh right the poor kids parents were incompetent when it came to ghost hunting and it wasn't like they could just up and do it without destroying the kids confidence. Plus the GIW were no help either.

Vlad becoming Mayor was not exactly their plan but they thought maybe they could use that as some help to convince Danny more that he didn't need to play hero for them just because he got powers now. That didn't turn out like they hoped and THAT plan was dismissed quickly. Especially when the GIW showed up. They learned their lesson sort of quickly after that, at least when it came to people from out of Amity did not mean well.

Lancer, at first when Danny first showed up as Phantom, had attempted to get into contact with the Justice League several times, so that Danny would actually get the professional help he needed and get some sleep at night as well as the time he needed for his schooling so that heroing wouldn't be the only career path he would be forced into. The additional point of getting the kid training too for his powers was also very tempting, there are only so many chemical breakers they could allow the him to break before they HAD to sort of ban him from touching them again.

But when the GIW appeared in their town they stopped trying to reach the Justice League. Suspecting that that was the answer they sent in regards to their SOS calls. Amity Parks protectiveness over their teenheroes that sacrificed to much skyrocketed. They started to sabotage the Agents subtitle. Always working within the limits of the orders and finding the loop holes.

"Oh but we did comply, not our fault that you guys tripped and let Phantom escape."

"Wupp, sorry I got that from the Fentons for self defence, but it looks like I need to work on my aim."

"I am so sorry, my car is stuck! See my tire is popped I can't get out of your vans way."

The fact that Amity Parks weather report was more a report on the ghosts, the Fenton parents and the GIW was all a tactic for them all to keep each other informed so they could execute any step to ensure their -by now- towns sweethearts safety. Even if they still tried to turn the poor kid away from being a hero with all the unnecessary mean comments and articles.

So when one day a hero from the Justice League showed up it was predictable that they all were suspicious of it. Even more so when that hero came with a bunch of teenage heroes. Apparently they were here to investigate a bunch of ignored calls one of the teenheroes found in their call logs. Some of the adults eyed Lancer who in turn was glaring at the heroes fessed up, he hadn't attempted to call them ever since they decided to sent the GIW into their town. Which apparently was more of a cover as these heroes showed an interest in the Fentons research of Ectoplasm pretty quickly.

Well now Batman and his flock of bats and birds were confronted with a very unhappy town that was apparently very protective of their hero and 'accidentally' continued to manage to block them from making contact with said teenhero. And who where these Guys in white suits that tried to suck it up to Batman? Better question why was the entire town suddenly hostile towards them when they started to look into the Fenton Family that had a connection to Lazarus Water?

Meanwhile Danny is confused by his towns newfound favouritism towards Batman and his entourage and how whenever he went to find out what was that about everyone seems to deflect. Even Sam, Tucker and Jazz were confused by what was going on!

[lgbtlunaverse]

This page from the adventurer's bible makes me want to cry

Like basically any neurodivergent dungeon meshi fan, I see a lot of myself in the Touden siblings. But I was blindsided by just how much I suddenly related to Falin in this little comic from the adventure bible's complete version.

It's about the Touden siblings' differing relationships with their parents, and why Laios still holds their treatment of Falin against them, while Falin herself doesn't.

We know that Falin was isolated and ostraziced by their village after she saved Laios from a ghost, displaying her uncanny affinity for magic. Her parents, instead of defending her, sent her away, which angered Laios so much he ran way himself before Falin even left for magic school, hoping to make a living so he and Falin could live together alone.

He tells Marcile this, but when she goes to Falin, she says she sees things differently. Her father sent her to magic school to protect her form the rest of the village without having to cause a conflict. He didn't explain that, and we actually see her burst into tears when he says it.

But, well... Laios was gone for a year before Falin went to magic school, and everyone else in the village avoided her. The understanding Falin has with her parents to me looks like one borne out of necessity, she literally didn't have anyone else to talk to.

And this is where we get to the page that made me want to cry

Like I said, I relate to the Toudens because I'm neurodivergent myself. that feeling of suddenly realizing you're disliked, but not knowing what you did wrong or what you should have done instead? Yeah... that's one I recognize.

When I was around 9 years old, the same age Falin is in this comic, a bunch of kids in my class decided to make a "game" where you lost if you touched me. It was basically the 'cheese-touch' from diary of a wimpy kid, except I always had it and couldn't pass it along. They'd pretend I was poisonous or disgusting and run away from me screaming or gagging. The point was to make fun of me. But my autistic little 9 year old ass thought "Oh I get it! It's tag but I'm always it!" So I... played along. Running at a boy and having him fall on the ground screaming in fake pain because you tapped him is, in isolation, pretty funny.

It wasn't until months into the "game" that I realized it was meant to be meanspirited. That the reason I was the one who was always 'it' wasn't an arbritrary rule but the whole point. Because I was weird and gross. I wasn't in on the joke, I was the punchline.

Falin may have come to understand her parents' intentions, but she didn't always. The adventure bible actually tells us that she at first didn't even notice that the rest of their village disliked her. She clearly knows now, but she had to be told. So when her mom tried to exorcise her, she just saw it as an activity she got to do with a mother she usually didn't get to spend much time with because of her poor health. It's only Laios who notices something is wrong.

(Sidenote, Laios being hyper-aware of people's poor attitudes towards Falin but completely blindsided when he's in the same spot, like with Toshiro, is also very relatable as an eldest sibling)

It probably also took Falin months, until after her brother had left and she had no one but her parents, to realize why her mother had been doing all those things.

And I know they're not the same. Even misguidedly, Falin's mom was trying to help her, not make fun of her like those boys in my class. (Though, as a queer person who also cares a lot about the queercoding in Falin's storyline, a parent trying to 'exorcise' their child of a fundamental part of them the parent thinks is evil or corruptive? yeah... that's not perfectly wholesome)

But do you know what I did, when I finally figured out the game was always meant to make fun of me?

To me, it looked like I had a choice.

See, those boys eventually figured out I didn't understand that they were being mean to me. I'd laugh every time I managed to catch one of them, I was visibly having fun. And while it no doubt only made me more of a weirdo in their eyes, they never informed me that I shouldn't be enjoying myself. That the point was for me to feel hurt.

So now that I did know, I had a choice. I could either get upset, and let the insult land as it was supposed to. That wouldn't stop them, because making fun of me was the original goal. Or I could ignore it and go on as usual. They had already accepted that I didn't get it, and they weren't gona stop me from having fun, so why should I?

And the thing is that I had... one friend, in that whole class. One person who actually liked talking to me and hanging out with me. I was lonely. And the 'game' provided me with another social interaction, mean-spirited as it was, that I desperately needed. And it was so delightfully simple. Navigating actual friendships as a kid with autism and adhd was so fucking complicated, and I'd never know when I might break an inivisble rule. But I knew the rules to the game perfectly!

Sometimes, if I was chasing one of them, the others would trap him and hold him down so I could tap him. In those moments it actually did kind of feel like I was playing with them, rather than against them. And it didn't change much, they didnt start actually liking me. But they were willing to roll with the fact that I wasn't upset, and I took advantage of that because I needed to.

So you can look at Falin seeing the best in her parents as her being naïve, but I look at this page and I see myself, at first unable to differentiate between playing and being made fun of. And then later, when I did see the difference, deciding not to get mad about it because that'd mean losing that social interaction, and I couldn't afford to.

Like I said, Falin probably first realized this in the year she spent with her brother gone, and everyone else avoiding her like the plague. If she refused to talk to her parents, like Laios did, she'd have no one left.

I see a lot of people relating to the fight between Laios and Toshiro. that frustration when you realize someone you thougth was your friend actually hates you, and they never said anything, never gave you a chance to fix it because you had no idea that you were even doing something wrong! And I can see that, too. But sometimes, when people don't fully hate you, it feels better to go along with the pretending. Because adressing it won't fix it. Because the problem isn't a specific behaviour, it's you. And if they're willing to tolerate you, despite the fact that it's you, then you'll take it. Because other people do hate you, so this is the best you'll get.

[straylightdream]

three simple words

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader

You were his first serious girlfriend and his first for many things, and he was the first boy you had ever actually loved. For some reason saying those three simple words terrified you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, established relationship

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of tension fluff and, smut warning below.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐚𝐧: I’m forever down bad for wonwoo

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), very vanilla sex, they’re both in love, wonwoo is moody and protective, nicknames: baby (hers)

It had been a long night to say the least. Things at bar were kinda messy and you hadn’t intended to call Wonwoo to come rescue you. Your original plan was to call Joshua to save yourself from Wonwoo’s “I told you so,” but you caved and call the person you truly wanted to rescue you. You also knew that Wonwoo would be mad if you called your friend before him. It turns out Wonwoo was correct about your coworker Sam wanting to sleep with you. It took very little alcohol in his system to get brave enough to ask you to hookup.

You were in the middle of dancing with Yuri when Sam came up behind you and started grinding on you. You pulled away from and tried to reject him nicely. But he only left you alone after you showed him a photo of you and Wonwoo who you told him was your boyfriend.

The moment you got away from him you rushed to the bathroom and called Wonwoo begging to not only come pick you up but play the role of scary boyfriend. You knew the only way Sam would truly leave you alone was if your boyfriend scared him off.

It took Wonwoo fifteen minutes to get to the club you were hiding in the bathroom. Stepping out into the hallway you found him leaning against the wall looking extremely annoyed.

“Thank you,” your voice is timid. You can't help but feel embarrassed that you had to call him to rescue you. You should have just listened to Wonwoo when he asked you not to go out with friends if Sam was invited.

Taking your hand in his, he makes his way across the bar. He drags you up to the one person you don’t want to see. You stand behind him as he glared at your coworker.

“Hello Sam, this is the only warning I’m giving you. Don’t touch and don’t even think about trying to mess with my girlfriend.”

“I won’t even talk to her,” Sam says, stumbling over his words.

Once again your hand is in Wonwoo as he leads you out of the club. Walking up to his car he parked on the street he helped you in before starting the car. He was completely silent as he starts to drive you back to his house.

“Wonwoo I would never cheat on you,” you feel the need to let him know you’re loyal to him.

“You’ve never given me a reason not to trust you,” he finally speaks up.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you. I just wish you would have listened to me, when I told you I didn’t like the idea of him hanging out with you tonight,” he lets out a heavy sigh. He keeps his eyes focused on the road ahead. “I wasn’t against Sam hanging out with you because I was jealous. I have nothing to be jealous of. I know you love me and would never cheat on me. I was against it because that guy gave me the creeps.”

Leaning your head against the window you sigh realizing you truly have a poor judgment of people's character.

Arriving at Wonwoo apartment complex he takes your hand leading you upstairs.

“I’m going to take a shower why don’t you get dressed for bed.”

He walks off to the bathroom and you walk over to his dresser to pull out the oversized night shirt you leave here. You strip down to nothing but your thong and the night shirt before walking to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Glancing at the shower you see a very naked Wonwoo washing his hair.

“What are you doing?” He says loudly over the loud water.

“Brushing my teeth,” you attempt to sound innocent as if you weren’t staring at his naked body moments ago.

“Are you going to join me?”

You don’t say anything, you just stare at his naked body as you continue to brush your teeth.

“If you aren’t going to join me, can you be naked in bed when I get out?”

“Okay.” You finish brushing your teeth before walking back into his room.

You strip down completely bare and lay on his bed waiting for him. He walks out of the bathroom with a towel sitting low on his hips.

The sight of him naked almost makes you drool. He pulls off his towel tossing it in the hamper. You immediately notice he’s already hard.

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“I’m your boyfriend, it's my job to save you.”

Laying in bed you watched as his curious eyes roamed your naked body. Walking over he laid on the bed next to you and stared into your bright eyes. Your hand rested on his chest as you gently pushed him back. Carefully you moved so your soft body was sitting on his lap looking down at him.

“I’m done talking about what happened at the bar. I just want to fully enjoy my time with you.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Slowly you dragged your finger across his chest. His bottom lip was captured between his teeth as he continued to watch you. Your finger stopped right where his heart was you and traced a circle as you stared into his dark eyes.

“You own that,” he says softly. You have a feeling this l is his own way of saying he loves you.

His sweet words make your heart race. You have never said those three simple words to each other, even though it was very obvious that you were in love with each other. You were his first serious girlfriend and his first for many things, and he was the first boy you had ever actually loved. For some reason saying those three simple words terrified you.

“I do?” you say resting your hand over his heart.

Slowly he nods. You can tell he’s just as nervous as you are.

“I was hoping to say this with clothes on,” he said with a goofy grin.

You can’t help but let out a soft giggle at his comment. You were both naked and you were sitting on his lap. It wasn’t the most ideal situation to be saying “I love you” for the first time.

“What were you hoping to say?” you ask, attempting to get him to confess his feelings first. You wanted to hear him say those three words.

“You aren’t going to run away if I say them right?” he asked, knowing you all too well.

You shake your head and smile at him.

“I love you,” he says those three sweet words and your heart soars.

Leaning forward you connect your lips to his for a passionate kiss. With your lips ghosting his you say, “I love you too Wonwoo.”

Very little is said from there on. His lips moved against your as his hand moved down to touch the most sensitive part of you. He makes you feel things you weren’t that you had ever experienced before. Sitting on your knees you straddle him, hovering over him you slide down his hardened length. His hands gripped your soft sides as yours rested on his chest. Your eyes stared locked on his as your bodies moved together.

“I love you,” you gasp.

The smile that forms on his face is something you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

It wasn’t long before he pushed over the edge and fell right behind you. Lying on your bed he held you in his arms. Everything between you felt perfect as he held you.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

fang i need to see yukimiya with an oversexed s/o so bad

i think about this all the time bc of hypersexuality

tags for some implied religious trauma on mr yukimiyas part and very explicit sexual content. reader is very wanton lol, 18+

it is . sooooo hard for him. the thing is yukimiya genuinely thinks of you as such a warm, kind person. his feelings for you are so deep and sincere and completely removed from any lust he might feel for you. or at least that lust is intertwined with a stronger desire to be gentle and intimate and sweet with you yk

but you are sooooo horny and so shameless and it is soooo much for that poor boy. i do genuinely think yukimiya has like self imposed saving himself for marriage thing. and he's super upfront about it with you from the start bc u so obviously want to jump his bones. he has a very Strong sense of discipline overall.

like the first time you kiss you're just like... all over him. hands in his hair, pressed against his lap, tongue in mouth and he is trying to handle all the sensory input and failing. he has to PRY you off of him and he's so red and he's like no no we can't go any further.

and you pout jokingly but you never push him. you're so sweet about it, maybe a little teasing but that's it. you always express your desires and voice them, always tell him whats on you mind. if you think he looks handsome or sexy or whatever—you'll sort of fidget with the end of your straw and bite and make a comment so unbelievably lewd before moving right along.

you make these like... eyes at him. fuck me eyes, he's heard the term before but he didn't really get it until he met you. you know exactly what you want from him and you're thinking about how you can get it. a little dazed, very determined. always gets him sooo flush.

you brush things off easily enough when he blows you off about it. you're a lot but you're not....forceful or anything. he makes a little face of faux disappointment and you laugh it off and thats all there really is but the longer you date the less he feels sure of himself.

yukimiya wanted to get married young and didnt see a whole lot of purpose in trying to lose virginity to someone he didn't love so he held onto it for longer than most people. that plus growing up religious its just something he was so sure about it.

and he does want to treat you well. marry you. yukimiya is the first guy to ever be such a gentleman to you and he doesnt want to taint that because of his own ...desires. its dirty to him. he doesn't think it's bad when you want things, but it's different when he wants things.

but it gets. harder and harder. you're so forward and you are also so good at touching him (too good) and so attractive already without trying very hard. you could do anything and look insanely beautiful to him but god.

you really don't go farther than making out and heavy petting. but that in itself gets so obscene. the way you space out your kisses, the way you flick your tongue - how your hands slide up his chest and neck, thumb rubbing against his ears, how you carry your weight in his lap, how you use your teeth. you kiss him like you could eat him whole.

when your hand gets on his belt he always loses his sense of reason - only barely tears himself a way from it each time. half-hard and apologetic. eventually you get the feeling that he's not even... it's not like he doesn't want to do it but he's holding onto beliefs he only barely has.

you have to have a long conversation about it i think. give him a peptalk about how you know how much he loves you and sex can be intimate too etc. when he's still resistant to it, you make a compromise. no penetration until he's ready, even if that means marriage. no sex. you think its silly but it helps him make sense of everything.

i think he agrees to this kind of blindly, assuming it will take the edge and tension off. like letting the pressure out slowly so something doesnt explode.

but. once you open that box, you can't really close it again.

so you do everything but have sex. and it absolutely makes him want to fuck you.

its light at first. dry humping while you make out and making him cum in his jeans. giving a handjob or teaching him how to finger you ("for when you do fuck me, someday"). directing him on how exactly you like getting head - on foreplay, your sure hands over his shaky ones as he make him squeeze your tits and guide them into his mouth. tell him the other places on your body you like being touched.

you teach him things about his own body too. or rather, he learns them because of you. his ears get red and sensitive, he likes when you bite his ear lobes lightly.his lips too. likes your hands on his biceps or chest or back, kissing and rubbing his muscles appreciatively. it does something to him. he knows he's attractive but it's... different. it's a nice feeling to be wanted but being wanted by you makes his whole body break into these terrible shivers.

he learns that the tip of his cock is way more sensitve than it should be. he learns he doesn't mind when you take advantage of this either.

he's got a few moles on his body and he likes how you kiss them when you go down on him. on his hip and inner thigh and some other places. likes when you rub up against him in general, when you cling to him during it or when your nails dig into his arms

yukimiya likes how... relaxed you get when you feel good. the first time he makes you cum with his mouth he feels so absurdly accomplished, even more so when you giggle at him and kiss him so full of love.

nothing changes. you go on dates and see each other. sleep in the same bed. but when you stay over at his place now - he's started to anticipate your little escapades.

no penetration. he knows that should mean not getting his dick anywhere near you. but you're persuasive. it's fine, yuu-kun. just slide your dick against me, it'll feel good. you can do it between my thighs, if you want.

the first time yukimiya slides his hard cock through the soft, slick folds of your pussy he nearly passes out. randomly on a date night. it just turns out that way. your hands on the back of his neck, kissing him as it slips through the sticky warmth.

it feels so good. it's mindblowing. it's so unfair. how can something feeling so much better when everything else you've been feeling had felt so incredible? how can there be anything more tempting than what you already do?

but there is. its you with your ass up and your thighs squeeze as yukimiya fucks the plush of them - tip knocking against your clit, catching on your hole, one misstep away from thrusting. the thought haunts him even as he's cumming up against your belly and thighs.

there's a guilt he feels about greed in particular, even more than lust. sometimes you go at it and he just. can't help it. can't help but want more. can't help but shamefully jerk off in the bathroom after you've already done it for a while.

you come onto him the same as always, more now that he's receptive to it but god he can never turn down your advances. even when it'd be smarter to do it. all it takes is his name now, or maybe just you taking his glasses off so it's a little easier to kiss him. it scares him a little, just how easy it'd be to slip up and . take you really. thin threads of control fraying as he gets close and closer to just giving you what you want.

it's Hard. he holds onto it for so long. i think he snaps eventually when you do something very thoughtful for him on a bday or anniversay and he just becomes uncharacteristcally aggressive (not that ur mad) and u have such intense deep missionary. like eye contact, chest to chest, slow rolling of his hips while he grinds into you. it is such a crazy feeling.

yukimiya just really. bends to your whims after you have these breakthroughs. he is so unbearably seduced by you even when he tries so hard to fight but it . god its rough on his brain. shame and pleasure are not opposites for him, that's for sure.

[actualyves]

Thinking about how Benson was a traumatized victim of CSA and a queer man living in the rural south in the early aughts. He saw so much of himself in Randy, and when Randy started getting pushed around and bullied, it was himself Benson saw being hurt yet again right in front of his eyes.

He was raised poor and by a single mother. Likely never came forward about what he was subjected to as a child, never developed any coping skills or received any sort of therapy. Just years of pent up pain, smoldering under the layers of himself he kept packed away inside like winter clothes, just waiting for the seasonal change that would never come so that he could finally shake the wrinkles out and examine it.

But then he saw himself in this scared young man. He knew who he’d become, even if no one else did, and the thought of seeing someone set on the same path when he had the power to help redirect his course and save him was lead-heavy on his spirit. So Benson, without any emotional regulation skills, who simply didn’t know what he didn’t know about healing, saved Randy in the only way he knew how.

Deep down he knew he needed comfort and healing and closure for the ghosts that never fully died and continued haunting him all these years later, his mind a decrepit and condemned house of horrors that he couldn’t afford to move out of or exorcise. So he did for Randy what he’d needed done for him, but laced with the anger and violence he’d come to associate with moving on. A cornered dog showing a puppy how to snarl and bite.

And when the literal face of his trauma was in front of him, speaking to him, not even recognizing him, whatever rational thought was still in the driver’s seat bailed out, and the anxiety and trauma and deep, visceral fear took over. Yes, the bullying at the beginning of the day triggered his PTSD, but coming face to face with the reason he became this way to begin with pushed him fully over the edge, and for literally the rest of his life Benson would be in the throes of reliving the trauma that had plagued him for most of his life.

He wasn’t an inherently violent person. He became this way because he didn’t know what or who else to become. The anger felt not just inevitable but like the only option. He never realized softness and vulnerability were an option outside of the wood paneled walls of his cluttered childhood home, where he could safely kiss his Ma on the forehead and bring her pastries and cigarettes. But he brought Randy there. Let him wear his clothes and meet his mother. Took him to breakfast and wiped his tears and told him It isn’t your fault, you were just a kid. Assured him that There is nothing wrong with you for being a virgin, and it’s a good thing that you’re the one in control of your body and sexuality. Encouraged him to Stand up for yourself, don’t let other people hold you back. Randy was a safe place for softness, and Benson was trying to fight against everything in himself that tied vulnerability to victimization despite how badly he wanted to be not only a comfort for Randy but comforted by him.

Benson felt he was too far gone, but Randy wasn’t. And maybe in helping Randy he could help himself. Randy could be his comfort and closure and peace.

But then Sheppard happened, and Benson’s mind turned on itself. He tried to fight back, but became only more distant from reality, retreating into himself while simultaneously trying to escape himself, spinning his tires in the mud and only finding purchase and movement when a bullet -his bullet from his gun- ripped through Randy’s shoulder. And his peace, his boy, was looking up at him with wide, wet eyes, scared and hurt, and Benson never wanted him scared and hurt, had only ever wanted to help. But now, freckled in blood and bathed in the red and blue lights of squad cars, Benson’s brain finally, finally, after all these years silenced, and he saw his life and himself for what they were.

He was a scared little boy whose last goal in life was to be a giraffe before his fate had been decided for him. He wasn’t equipped for adulthood or juggling the complexities that came with it. He was only ever rolling with the tide and surviving by caring for Ma and flipping burgers with a head full of trauma and a trunk full of bullets. His life had been driven by fear and violence, and his lot had been decided for him in the third grade. He never had a say in it. He was never in charge. A scared lamb without a sheepdog to keep the wolves at bay or a flock to insulate him and, not knowing what else to do, he threw himself to the wolves as a sacrificial omen, his last utterance the name of the man whose altar he was laying his body upon.

[swarvey]

Can you do bachelor hcs where farmer is like super hurt? Like blood gushing from their abdomen or smth?? Like basically life threatening

when they think you're not going to make it | sdv bachelors x gn!reader

summary -> how some of the boys react to seeing you come out of the mines unconscious with nearly fatal wounds. warnings -> blood and injuries, panic attacks, harsh language

a/n: basically a more severe version of this series lol, i hope you enjoy!!! <3 alex's is probs the longest bc i was inspired heh, i started with alex and shane, but lmk if y'all want more!

alex

feels like his throat is closing in on itself when he sees you all beaten up in harvey's clinic

harvey has to yell at linus to get him out of the room when he keeps trying to reach you

completely panics at the thought of losing you

he just doesn't want to be alone again

it was no secret alex hated hospitals, and harvey's small clinic was no exception. he always tried to leave his appointments with the doctor as soon as he could, and although he would accompany you to yours, he preferred to stand outside until you finished. everything about the environment was too much for him, too painful.

so when linus — the local homeless guy he never really cared to talk to — caught him on the street and practically begged him to go to the clinic, he wasn't entirely convinced. only when your name slipped off his tongue did his eyes widen, his feet moving before his mind could catch up.

alex hated hospitals, and now he had a reason to hate them even more.

"y/n?"

his voice was barely audible as the world around him began to fade, only focusing on your paled face and the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around your torso. his breath got stuck in his chest, and an all too familiar feeling began to swarm him —images of his poor mother laying in a cold hospital bed, monitors beeping rapidly as the doctors failed to save her.

not again. please, not again.

"get him out of here!" harvey demanded, pushing him away from your body. alex blinked, realizing he'd moved past the doctor and was desperately trying to hold onto you. "alex, you have to step away, or else i won't be able to help them."

"stop it, they need me! let me go," he loudly protested. he knew it was childish; he knew he sounded like the same kid he was all those years ago, begging to see his mom one last time, but he didn't care. this was you, and he couldn't lose you. he couldn't lose anyone else.

despite his efforts, alex was swiftly dragged away by linus's unexpected strength. before he knew it, he was standing outside the clinic in the cool evening air, chest heaving as he tried to breathe.

"take some deep breaths," the older man said, somehow sounding level-headed. "it'll be okay."

"the fuck do you know?" alex snapped, voice wavering. "you don't know anything about what it's like, do you? what it's like to lose someone? to watch someone die?" his voice hitched, tears beginning to well in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. "i can't do this. i-i can't do this again, not again, not after last time — i can't—"

"hey." strong hands planted themselves on his shoulders, and his panicked gaze met linus's kind eyes. "this isn't the first time i've dragged people out of the mines, alright? trust me, i've seen worse. they'll be okay."

"you don't know that," alex replied weakly. "they might not make it."

"they're strong, you know that."

"she was strong, too. my mom was the strongest person on this planet." more tears blurred his vision. "look where she ended up."

linus sighed, dropping his arms. "she was," he agreed, and alex looked up in surprise, "but this is different, alex."

"how do you—"

"alex." he turned, meeting harvey's exhausted smile. "you can come in now." alex nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve and giving linus a a grateful look before walking in.

your face was still pale and you weren't awake, but it was clear you were much better than before. a new, clean bandage covered your abdomen, and an iv was attached to your arm.

alex let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "so, they'll be okay?" he asked, sitting on the chair beside you.

"yes, with some recovery, of course," harvey said, sounding just as relieved as alex felt. "though, i would strongly advise not letting them go to the mines for a while. an injury like this won't heal quicky, and it will likely scar. please talk to them after they wake."

"got it, doc. seriously, thank you so much." with another smile and a nod, harvey walked to another part of the clinic, leaving alex alone with you. he kept repeating the doctor's words in his head as he grabbed your limp hand, watching your chest fall up and down with each breath. "you'll be okay," he whispered, though it wasn't you he was trying to convince.

as alex drifted off to sleep next to you, he silently reminded himself to stop by linus's tent the following morning.

shane

he usually acts pissed at you whenever you get hurt, but it's only bc he knows you can handle yourself

usually you can, anyway, which is why he's worried when you don't come home when you said you would

he's quick to leave the house and immediately starts looking for you (tries to convince himself you're just running late)

in complete shock when he sees you in dr. harvey's arms as he rushes into the clinic with maru beside him

shane glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last minute, frown deepening when you still didn't appear in the doorway. he could practically hear you chastising him for being too dramatic, but he didn't care — you'd never been this late before, and a tugging feeling in his gut told him there was something wrong.

swearing under his breath, he threw on his jacket and left the farm, telling himself that you probably just got caught up at the saloon, or maybe you stopped by the community center. then again, you had mentioned you wanted to get back into fishing—

"maru, get the door!"

a cold wave washed over shane's entire body, making him halt mid-step.

all he could focus on was your bloodied face hanging from harvey's arms as he rushed you into the clinic, maru hot on his tail.

for a second, time seemed to stop.

then, he was sprinting to catch the door and run in after them, panicked words spewing from his mouth before he could even process his thoughts.

"what the— what the fuck happened? where did you even—? are they going to be okay, oh shit, are they gonna wake up—"

"shane," harvey gritted out through his teeth, "you need to leave, now."

immediately, shane stood his ground, jaw clenched. "i'm not fuckin' going anywhere, not 'til they're awake."

"shane," the doctor repeated in a softer tone, eyes pleading with him, "i can't work on them with you in the room. this wound is deep — i need to operate, and you can't be here."

"please," maru added quietly, looking more distressed than shane had ever seen the typically laidback girl. "th-they might not make it."

harvey gave her a look, but didn't deny her words. shane felt his stomach drop.

then, wordlessly, he turned and slammed open the door into the waiting room, forcing himself into a seat as he bit back panicked tears. maru's words kept playing back in his head like a broken record, and suddenly, shane realized he might have to face a terrifying world without you in it.

"fuck," he cursed, letting his head fall into his hands to hide the hot tears streaming down his face. at first, he thought he was angry — he always told you to be careful, that you shouldn't be running around so damn carelessly all the time, you're not fuckin' invincible. you never listened, of course, always spewing something stupid about doing what's best for everyone. after hearing that phrase more than a handful of times, shane thought it was pretty reasonable for him to be a little pissed.

in that moment, though, who the hell was he kidding? he was nowhere near pissed; he was scared.

you couldn't die, not yet — not when he just got better, not when he still had so much left to say to you. the thought of never being able to see your smile again made him nauseous, and he wished he could rewind back to the morning so he could tug you back into bed with him. stay, he would say. you're not leaving my side today, alright?

he knew it wouldn't have worked. he would still try, though.

shane didn't realize how long he stayed in the same position until the waiting room doors creaked open, his head shooting up at the sound. harvey greeted him with a nod, which he returned stiffly as he stood up.

"d-did everything go okay?" he asked, swallowing in an attempt to soothe his rough voice. "are they—?"

"they're fine," harvey replied, a small smile upturning his lips at the sound of shane's relieved swears.

"thank fuck, i don't know what i would've— it doesn't matter, can i come in?" he barely waited for a response before slipping past the doctor and finding your bed.

he caught maru on her way out, giving her another nod. she smiled, wider than harvey's, before making her way to the other room.

shane hesitantly grabbed your hand as he sat down in the chair beside you, scared he might break you if he held you too roughly. when you didn't stir, he laced his fingers with yours and held them to his forehead, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand.

"you scared the shit out of me," he sighed, shaking his head. "god, i don't know what i would've done if you— if i couldn't—" he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, resorting to giving your hand another kiss. "you better wake up, you hear me? i'll fuckin' kill you if you don't." he half expected you to answer. he could hear your voice in his head telling him to stop acting so tough, that you could see right through him.

instead, the sound of your steady breaths filled the room, and even then, shane felt like that was your way of telling him everything would be okay.