#rose is a petty and emotional mess

[relaxxattack]

people will really write rose as a badass girlboss as if her main character trait isn’t hubris. as if her main story arc wasn’t her fucking things over for everyone time and time again by assuming she was better and wiser. oh you think rose is a girlboss? rose who intentionally allowed herself to be corrupted by morally ambiguous terrors because she thought it might give her a slight mental advantage on the game? rose who willingly went along with the manipulation of a groomer because she thought his idea of putting a tumor into the universe was smart? THAT rose? that rose??? why don’t you ask her where the green sun is. since she’s such a competent and intelligent boss bitch

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[baphometsss]

thinking about it, the way solas thinks about/remembers mythal hits really close to home for me

when someone dies, especially if they die prematurely, there's a tendency for those who survive them to kind of... look at them through rose tinted glasses. i had this experience with my brother, who died when he was 22 and very unexpectedly at that. because he died before i really had a chance to spend much time with him (i was 11), i missed out on all sorts of things. both my family and myself have a tendency to ignore all his flaws and the bad things he did because we miss him and wish he was still around to be flawed and do bad things. because then at least he would actually be here.

i think this is what solas is doing with mythal, although it's complicated from their trauma bond and the somewhat abstract way the first elves experienced emotions. it's true what (davrin?) says -- when someone dies before you have a chance to tell them all the things you want to tell them, it stings. mythal and solas had a complicated relationship, and solas really wanted to believe that she would join the rebellion one day. she never did, because of her own pride and refusal to give up godhood, and bc she believed too well in her own ability to control the evanuris from within. to join the rebellion would be like admitting defeat, something she could not do because, as morrigan says, she can't tolerate being wrong. by his own admission, she betrayed him by joining the evanuris. then she died before they had a chance to really iron out their issues, and because solas rebelled against her (in his mind, failing her), it messed with him badly.

so he doesn't allow himself to be angry, because if he really loses it with her (the way he did with the rebel mages in his personal dai quest), what the hell is he supposed to do with that anger? there is no one to direct it at, except the world and himself. he himself is the easiest target, because he already carries so much guilt and shame over the things he's done. but he does direct it outward too. that is at least in part what he's doing when he wants to tear down the veil--not just for mythal, not just to 'repair' his past mistakes, but because he is simply angry and frustrated, too, which blocks his wisdom. and yet, he doesn't feel he has a right to that anger, even though he really does when you think of all the things mythal put him through. he cannot be angry until he has corrected his mistakes he made in failing her.

it's not surprising that he puts her on a pedestal. you do that when you're grieving and hate yourself that much. that's why his perspective is so warped, and why he's an unreliable narrator when it comes to mythal. like i loved my brother, but my recollection of him will always be coloured by his death.

mythal was not the great mother goddess of legend and she was likely not really the person solas portrays her as either. the fragment in morrigan is closest to who the legends portray her as, but it isn't the only part of her either. she was very flawed, and petty, and all the things solas described the evanuris as being. she was a monster in her own way too. but when you're surrounded by far worse monsters, you come out looking okay. that's essentially all mythal had going for her: she wasn't as much of a monster as she could've been.

it speaks volumes about solas's 'grim and fatalistic' outlook when you consider that. the more you learn about solas's past, the more you realise how important the inquisition was to him, how helpless he would've been to have bonded with these mortals who were so free in their goodwill and determination to build a better future--something that was severely lacking in elvhenan.

[halucynator]

False Fronts IV

part 4 of 4

fluff version.

hii omg i finally did this im so happy with this there's an angst version as well bc who doesnt like some good ol' angst from time to time

also the other version was released early bc im stupid so ty to @berryzxx for reminding me (i just want a reason to tag you)

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings:fluffff arguments (oohOOHOoH) swearing, not so fake dating (but are they?), the and y/n being idiots, not a happy ending, not proof read (as usual) and my writing

summary: being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. you, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to theodore nott.

angst is hereeee

reblogs with tags are always appreciated mwah

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: angst

The tension between you and Theo had been brewing for days, each passing moment adding weight to the unspoken emotions that hung heavily in the air. Unable to bear the silence any longer, you initiated the conversation, the frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

"Theo, can we talk?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and determination.

He glanced up from his book, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about us," you began cautiously, the words feeling heavier than you'd anticipated. "I feel like there's something here, between us. But I'm confused about where you stand."

Theo's expression flickered, a fleeting mixture of uncertainty and conflict clouding his features. "I don't know if diving into a relationship right now is the best idea."

"But this isn't just about a relationship," you insisted, your voice rising in exasperation. "It's about acknowledging what's been brewing between us, Theo."

He sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure what I want, Y/N. It's complicated."

"Complicated?" You scoffed, the frustration simmering within you. "What's so complicated about being honest?"

"Why can't you understand?" Theo's voice rose, mirroring your frustration. "I don't want to mess things up and end up causing you pain."

"You're not getting it!" Your voice echoed in the charged atmosphere. "I need to know where we stand, and your indecision isn't helping."

Theo's reluctance grated on your nerves, fueling the intensity of the argument. "I need you to be honest with me, Theo. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen!"

"I know, but I'm conflicted," he admitted, his tone wavering.

Frustration boiled within you. "Conflicted about what? Us?"

His gaze shifted away, a mix of guilt and concern clouding his features. "I... I don't want Jess to hurt you."

"I can handle Jess, she isn't your responsibility," you asserted firmly, the frustration simmering beneath your words.

"You don't get it, do you?" Theo's voice cut through the tension, edged with frustration. "She's MY ex."

His words stung, and the heat of the argument intensified. "And that gives you the right to dictate what's good for me?" you shot back, your voice rising in indignation.

"Look, I'm just trying to protect you," Theo retorted, his tone laced with urgency.

"Protect me? From what?" Your voice rose, the frustration boiling over. "I can handle my own affairs, Theo. I don't need you deciding what's best for me!"

The tension crackled between you, each word spoken a testament to the underlying emotions that had escalated into a heated argument. The clash of opinions and conflicting desires hung heavily in the charged atmosphere, leaving the potential relationship teetering on the edge of uncertainty. The anticipation in the room was suffocating.

Days stretched into weeks, and the awkward distance between you and Theo became the new norm. Despite the avoidance, every accidental encounter sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you. Butterflies danced in your stomach, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, now lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

Each time your paths crossed, the unresolved tension simmered beneath the surface. The silent longing for resolution battled with the ache of hurt and confusion, leaving you caught in a turmoil of emotions whenever Theo came into view.

The avoidance hadn't dulled the effect he had on you. His presence was still magnetic, drawing your attention despite the unspoken rift that divided you both. The simple sight of him evoked a rush of emotions, a testament to the bond you once shared and the rift that now tore you apart.

With every passing moment, the yearning for clarity clashed with the fear of confronting the situation, leaving you entangled in a web of unresolved emotions and unspoken apologies, the butterflies a painful yet undeniable reminder of the connection you couldn't seem to sever.

Summoning your courage, you approached Theo's dorm, determined to offer an overdue apology. A hesitant knock resulted in eerie silence. Unsure of Theo's whereabouts, you glanced around the deserted hallway, your resolve mingling with uncertainty.

Taking a tentative step forward, you reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. The decision to enter felt both intrusive and necessary. The room was devoid of life, the emptiness echoing the void that had developed between you and Theo.

Your gaze drifted to Theo's desk, where a single piece of paper lay. The handwriting was unmistakable, sending a jolt of emotions through you as you read the words:

Last night was so fun, so glad you dropped Y/N.

- Jess

Disbelief and a pang of deception ricocheted through you. The words were like a gut punch, shattering the fragile hope you had held for reconciliation and understanding. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with the apparent evidence before you.

Your mind raced, attempting to process the meaning behind Jess's note. It seemed to confirm your worst fears, undermining the fragile trust you had in the situation and leaving your heart aching with the weight of assumed betrayal.

With tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart, you turned away, the intention of offering an apology now replaced by a swirl of hurt. The unaddressed misunderstanding had taken root, poisoning the hope for amends and leaving you in a cloud of uncertainty and hurt.

After catching a glimpse of the note and feeling a surge of mixed emotions, you found yourself actively avoiding Theo. Days turned into a tense cycle of dodging encounters and deflecting questions, leaving Theo increasingly perplexed by your sudden distance.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Theo finally confronted you, his tone a blend of confusion and concern.

Your gaze wavered, torn between the urge to explain and the fear of facing the truth. "I just need some space," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, evading the heart of the matter.

Theo's expression shifted from confusion to hurt, his eyes clouded with the weight of your avoidance. "Did i do something wrong?" he pressed gently, hoping for a glimmer of understanding.

You hesitated, unsure how to voice the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you muttered, the words falling between you like an insurmountable barrier.

The tension between you was palpable, an unspoken rift widening with every passing moment of silence. The distance between you grew, leaving both of you stranded in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

Theo sensed your unease. "Hey, something's been off. What's going on?" he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Well..." you hesitated, before showing him the note, unaware that he didn't know about it. "She sent you that note?" Theo's voice edged with surprise and confusion.

"What! No," you replied hastily, caught off guard by his assumption, unaware he didn't have any knowledge of the note's existence.

Theo's eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. "I'm lost. What's happening?" he asked, completely unaware of the note you were holding, his confusion evident in his expression.

"You're being accused of cheating on me with Jess, but now I think you're being framed," you explained, your voice tinged with concern as you showed him the note.

"What? I would never! You know that!" Theo's words spilled out, shock and disbelief evident in his tone and expression.

His vehement denial resonated with the sincerity you knew so well, and a wave of relief washed over you. You knew him, knew his values, and believed in his loyalty.

"I love you, I'd never do anything to hurt you," he continued, desperation and honesty lacing his words as he took his face in his hands turning it to face him.

His earnest declaration struck a chord within you, dispelling some of the doubts that had clouded your mind. You realized that amidst the chaos and confusion, trusting in your bond with Theo was paramount.

"Yeah, I-I'm sorry." you stammered, your voice filled with a mix of emotions, as you finally let go of the lingering doubts.

Theo's eyes softened with understanding, a gentle smile forming on his lips. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a reassuring embrace. In that moment, the unspoken affection bloomed, filling the air with an undeniable warmth.

With a rush of emotions, you met halfway, your lips gently pressing against his in a tender and heartfelt kiss.

"I love you too" you whispered as he pulled you in again for a kiss.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hi hello! this is the end of the series. check out the angsty ver here if you'd like! here are a few fics to read while i work on my next one:

masterlist

reader's choice (mattheo x reader)

reader's choice (theodore x reader)

i honestly had so much fun writing this thank you for sticking along with this <33 sorry for how late this is i was like so busy and im also lazy so yea

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy @jetblackpayne @delulu4marauders @ahead-fullofdreams

if you want to be added to my theodore/any other character's taglist just send me an ask/dm!

[crazycatgirl420]

Gotham's Black Rose

Dpxdc fanfic Sam is Bruce Wayne's daughter, adopted by the Manson family. Everlasting Trio, toddler Ellie. Pharoah Tucker, Witch Sam, Space Ancient Danny. And Cujo too.

Chapter 2: Comfort and Planning

The last thing Sam wanted right now was for cameras to be flashing in her face or for reporters to be shoving mics at her. Shoving past the crowd yelling questions she didn't want to think about right now, Sam made her way towards the street.

It didn't take long for Danny to show up, motorcycle roaring down the street. His ice blue eyes glared at the noisy crowd, and they hesitated long enough for Sam to escape.

She jumped on, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. They pulled away from the event without a single word to her parents - adopted parents apparently- which was for the best. Sam didn't even have words for them anymore.

-

Danny pulled into the Foley driveway with ease. Tucker sat on the patio, laptop open to live broadcast of the Manson's adoption reveal, and Ellie sat in a specially designed play pen with puppy Cujo.

"How's Sam?" Tuck asked, muting the video as Danny walked over.

"Oh you know." Danny said. "She's confused, disappointed, scared."

Turning around, Danny gently shook Sam onto Tucker's open arms.

"What a mess," Tucker sighed. "How do you just forget to mention that?"

"No idea man," Danny said.

The only one of them with a decent childhood was Tucker, and he's got horrible past-life memories of a Pharaoh's life in Egypt to process.

"I'm gonna curse them," Sam said. "They'll never be able to keep a secret ever again,"

"You know that's gonna have more consequences than you want to be responsible for," Tucker said.

"I know," Sam said. "...Pamela will always drop her pearls and Jeremy will never find the right cufflinks Pamela wants him to wear,"

"Petty," Danny said.

Sam nodded against Tucker's shoulder, before lifting her right hand, a twisting purple energy pooling in her palm. With a snap the magic vanished, off to fulfill its purpose on the unspecting Manson couple.

Ellie squealed in the pen, clapping her hands and chanting "magic! Magic!"

"So you've cursed them, what do you want to do now?" Danny asked, sitting on the grass.

Sam sat up, relocating to sitting on the stair and between Tucker's legs. Tucker ran his hands through Sam's hair, enjoying the company of his small family despite the heavy topic at hand.

"I want to know who my biological parents are," Sam said. "I want to know why I was put up for adoption and I want to move to Gotham as soon as possible."

"I can get us transferred to a Gotham high school for our senior year," Tucker said. "We're already accepted to Gotham University,"

"I can have me and Ellie packed by this weekend," Danny said.

"It's the last month of summer vacation so it's going to be a bit of a rushed transfer, I'll follow in my jeep, it's going to take me a minute to pack my office up,"

Sam let the boys plan their move, their voices a comforting background to her swirling emotions.

Ellie would know where she came from, no matter how complicated a story it was. Sam could see it, five years from now, they'd sit her down at the dinner table and explain an evil scientist tried to clone Danny, and instead Danny got an Ellie and she's been their daughter ever since.

Why was family so complicated?

[rataticaisdreaming]

day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles. 

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him. 

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone." 

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm" 

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

[pocket-watcher]

Okay, y’all asked for it. Here is a very BAD Hypno scene I wrote some point between ages 13-15. I lightly edited this so that it’s not AS confusing but it’s still pretty confusing ngl 😘

(Brief context, this is from a story about a magical school built on top of a mine where crystals within it give you magical powers and no idk what the fuck I was on about either)

Al moved between Jake and I.

“Nicky, Nicky, Nicky.” I hated that nickname. “You are so oblivious, aren’t you? The reason Jake doesn’t like me is obviously because you prefer me over him.” Al chuckled, putting his arm around me.

I froze for a second to register that ridiculous statement.

“What?!”

“Hey!” Jake said defensively. He shoved Al’s shoulder lightly, but before he could Al grabbed his hand.

“I don’t think you quite know what you’re messing with.” He smirked, turning back to me before throwing Jake’s arm back to his side.

I pushed Al off me.

“Nick- come on. You don’t honestly think he’s worth it now do you he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, peeking around from behind me. “We all know you’re the most powerful here. And with that crystal and that brain of yours do you really need petty friends dragging you down.”

He emphasised the word friends and I saw Jake’s teeth clench.

“Why not trade these guys for a handsome prince who is actually brave enough to make a move?”

I turned my head to him.

“That’s enough, Al.” Jake said, pulling me out of the way.

“No, I think she’d prefer to be with someone a little better, don’t you think?” Also pushed, sizing up to him.

“Stop! Who the hell gets to decide what I want. What if I want neither of you! Sometimes you can be both as bad as each other.”

“Wow, Jay, looks like you like them feisty. But I’m pretty sure she’d give you up in a heartbeat.”

“You do not get to decide what I choose! I am my own person!”

“Oh!” He smirked down at me. “I think I can change that…”

Suddenly his hand rose and tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. They flashed gold and…

I feel… a bit….. woozy…

I felt my body drop to the floor. I heard yelling and someone checking my pulse.

“What did you do to her?!” An echoing voice whispered. Or maybe it was yelling? Everything’s so distant… so detached from me…

“Ever heard of the tale of the Princess Amelia? One day Camelious’ army attacked her home, kidnapping her and eventually killing her. So sad…”

I fought against sleep. My emotions jumbled.

“But what if they didn’t kill her?” Al questioned, an excitable tone in his voice. “What if they used a very special type of crystal… a golden on, to entice her into aiding in one final escape from the palace?”

My eyes are so heavy… footsteps flood my ears. Light slowly moving away from me.

“What if he found a very special girl with a very special gift? And used her to mend his own crystal? Well, let’s find out shall we…”

Al made his way over to me and stood me up. I slowly opened my eyes.

It was him. My beloved. My Al. He blessed me with his embrace before looking back to an ally of ours. An ex ally.

“Nicole?” Jake questioned. I looked at him and chuckled.

“Darling, we best be on our way. Just one more thing…”

“Anything.” I said and I meant it. I would do anything for him.

He looked at Jake, who was eyeing us suspiciously. Al brought me closer and pecked me on my lips lightly and slowly, before turning to Jake and winking.

“I’ll kill you.” Jake said, pushing closer. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

“I just persuaded her. It was easy really. I mean, she is the only one without the Gods’ protection. Gods cannot interfere with those of equal power or position. Interesting. I thought it was a ridiculous idea although now I’m quite fond of it.”

I looked at Jake, noticing him reaching for his crystal. I shifted my hand and made the crystal crash out of his pocket, sliding across the floor.

“Oh don’t try anything. I mean, this is a God you’re dealing with.” Al spoke harshly. “Darling I must go. You will kill the boy and then be released from your trance. Don’t worry, I’ll come collect you when you are of use.” He said with a wink.

And with that he left the room.

“Nicky, please! It’s me!” Jake cried. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t have to.” I forced out. N-no! I must follow orders. What am I doing?

Jake backed away, fear in his eyes.

No! I can’t do this.

“Nicole? Come back to me.”

I raised my dagger. I mouthed that I was sorry.

He grabbed his crystal and smashed it against my head, magic electrifying through my body.

I collapsed to the ground once more in excruciating pain. The gold left my eyes.

“Jake..?” Was all I could manage before I drifted into unconsciousness.

[celestiall0tus]

Hello. In all honesty I am mildly concerned about the Syren's Song changes, namely for the racial aspect, how almost every white character is a hero and almost every character of colour is a villain. I kind of had lately similar feelings regarding Bloody Bug, but didn't voice it because it was the only case in your works, and now, sorry but it is starting to be a tendency.

What I mean with Bloody Bug is that characters of colour are either being depicted as savage and dangerous (Alix herself, Marinette, Kagami) or removed from picture with an effort (Nino who was turned into a coward who fled the team, Kim and Max who are barely present), while white characters are either without real flaws (Adrien, Sabrina, Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, Mylene) or redeem far faster than characters of colour (Chloe, Felix, even Lila who now is said to be better than Marinette despite they did the same thing, as well as Alya at some point being presented as worse than Chloe when her only fault was a petty misunderstanding). The way Alix needs specially white and only white friends to "civilize" her "monstrous, uncontrolled" Arabic self (while her best friends in canon were supposedly Kim and Max and probably Nathaniel) does have bad implications.

As someone who liked a lot your works before, I want to believe in your good intentions, and for this reason am informing you on how it looks from a side. Please try not to repeat the same mistake with another project.

Please don't take it as a personal offense.

There is so much to unpack, but let's get into it.

I'm prefacing this now. Call me ignorant all day everyday for it, but when I write, I don't always see color. I write first for the characters and how their stories should be.

The changes to Siren's Song come from the underlying message I mentioned in a previous ask being how fast to be change, how much do we change, and what do we keep. The villains are people that are in favor of a new age of technology and ideas. The heroes are a mix of people that are in favor of it, but want to keep aspects of the past as Grandeur would seek to completely erase the past as she sees humanity's greatest frailty that we'd rather hold onto past happiness than face future uncertainty.

Bloody Bug now is where I take personal offense admittedly. I'm writing teenagers. 13-15 year olds. These are the worst of the worst, a mix of hormones, wild emotions, and thinking they know everything, but they don't. If they are adults, I'd accept those views, but you are severely undermining a lot of Bloody Bug itself. Especially with the mental health problems these characters suffer from.

Alix suffers from abandonment issues that manifested as rage because that was how her mother handled her own problems. Alix guarded herself in a similar manner to keep herself safe. If not for her father and even Tikki, she wouldn't have opened up. She wouldn't have the base of her support system. There's also the fact that her only real friend that helped to quell that anger until her breaking point was Adrien. She had friends, but they weren't Adrien. Her arc was learning to move on. It was only once she had her death experience that she fully changed. You really are giving a little too much credit to her group of friends for quelling the anger she harboured.

Marinette suffers from OLD, obsessive love disorder, spurred on by a celebrity crush. And this disorder is fueled by the antagonist, Mayura, who is a manipulative bitch. Marinette is a victim twice over and it won't be until after the season 3 finale and beginning of season 4 that Marinette would finally be able to start healing.

Kagami is brainwashed and conditioned to do as she's told, following the "we follow orders because we choose to" crap from canon. She is seen as extreme because her mother instilled it into her that she must do whatever it takes to get what is hers. This comes into conflict when she starts to fall for Felix, causing a mess of problems for Kagami as she's fighting against what she wants vs what her mother expects.

Nino I can see why people would paint him as a coward, but when you consider going from Hawkmoth's stupid little villains to literal evil incarnate is enough to make any sane person shit their pants. Especially when faced first with a nightmare ghoul and a damn near literal wendigo (those fuckers are terrifying). There is honest real strength in admitting when you aren't strong enough to face down something. And that is something we should normalize more, even if it will paint us a coward.

Kim and Max have had little need to be in the story outside of the canon plotline of Kim trying to get with Chloe. Ivan may be in the story a touch more, but more as he is just there.

Luka I'm insulted by. This boy is flawed. He suffers from some forms of social anxiety and has a similar story as Hana-chan from Fruits Basket with similar ESP powers. Where Hana could hear thoughts (I think), Luka can hear music, causing a lot of sensory issues for him as well. It's caused him to be withdrawn, passive, and dreading social interaction. The only way he's really able to step out of his shell is when he's with Juleka, someone who is his rock.

Chloe is redeemed "faster" because she gains a support system and the wonders that a support system can do for a person is astounding. I wouldn't be here as myself if I didn't have my support system when I was younger. It makes all the difference in the world.

LIlia is still a liar and still lying through her teeth. Yes, she's moved on from Adrien, but that by no means makes her better than Marinette. The fact that Nathalie recommended her is the first hint.

Felix isn't like canon. There's not much there to redeem. He's a lot like Alix. A kid that is suffering from anger issues over a dead parental figure. Again, it was that support system of Alix and mostly Adrien that helped him.

Alya was worse because it was through Alix's eyes. That's the thing with close 3rd person. You may see everything going on and not directly in the person's eyes like 1st person, but you don't know everything. Because this is from Alix and Adrien's close perspective, there will be a lot of things you guys don't know until Alix and Adrien know it.

I know you say no offense, but I will be honest. I take personal offense that the mental health issues these characters suffer from are being written off as they are. I understand that everyone interrupts art differently, but this still bothers me.

[tendertenebrosity]

New piece for my Ocean's Echo fan characters! Masterpost here.

Saelin Cor had long since stopped judging the people around him for the stray, incidental thoughts that flitted past his awareness like minnows. A lot of them were just silly and shallow. Many were unreasonable - petty, unfair, disproportionately angry.

Most people knew it, too. It just wasn’t something anybody could help.

What mattered the deeper patterns of thought that Saelin had to focus on to sense. Actual intention, action and deliberate choices.

Saelin could quite happily judge people on those.

Davi had just had a whole morning full of briefings and seminars. It would have been nice if Saelin could be excused from that kind of thing, since Davi would send him all the information he needed to know and nobody ever asked his opinion. People rarely even acknowledged him where he sat beside Davi (or sometimes slightly behind, which felt just great). But that didn’t seem to be allowed.

Now, as they walked down the corridor into the mess hall, past the streams of military personnel, Saelin took a deep breath and steadied himself against the flash and flutter of hungry, thirsty, I can’t believe he did that, ugh what is taking this bitch so long, wow look at them, longing…

“If you go get the food, I’ll get coffee,” Davi said, turning away.

A quick scan of the crowded mess hall didn’t detect any of the handful of people he knew, so Saelin didn’t have any real cause to object to Davi’s assumption that they’d sit together. Probably with some of the other pilots, none of whom were synced except Davi. Fantastic. Exactly what I need.

Saelin wove his way between the crowds of people, through the billowing clouds of noise that nobody but him ever perceived, towards the food lines.

… did she see me, Lights my back hurts, for fuck’s sake not this guy again…

And it was then, collecting his tray and weaving his way through the crowd, that Saelin realised he had gone all day without once consciously thinking about the sync bond or the looming counterweight of Davi Antrell’s mind on the other end of it.

It was just… there. He had not thought about it.

He wanted to throw the tray in his hands. The urge, the need to do it rose up in his chest and made his hands tremble; he wanted to dump its contents on the ground and fling the whole thing as hard and as far away from him as possible. Maybe it’d break. He wanted to break it against the ground, and scream or cry, and run. To break something, to make noise, to show some kind of external sign of the horror and grief and rejection that pressed against his skin. No. No. No. Can’t.

He’d been here for six months.

And this was normal now.

Saelin took a deep breath, resettled the weight of the tray in his hands, and resumed walking. Probably the mugs and bowls wouldn’t have broken anyway, he told himself distantly. Not the way he wanted them to.

He was aware of the sync bond now. So was Davi; there was no way he wouldn’t have felt that sudden tempest of emotion. Here he was now, sliding alarm, inquiry and concern down the bond.

Saelin pushed back, more firmly than he probably should have. No need. Wait.

When Saelin slid the tray onto the table and dropped into the seat beside him, Davi frowned at him.

“What was that?” he asked, aloud, but under his breath.

“Nothing,” Saelin said.

Irritated concern pulsed across the sync. “Did somebody say something to you?”

The protective edge to the question was annoying. “No.”

“Saelin…” Davi glanced behind Saelin, his eyes scanning across the crowded mess hall. “Don’t pretend you didn’t flip out just now. If somebody did or said something, you need to tell me about it.”

No, I don’t, Saelin wanted to say. In fact, if I were being bullied, telling you so you could pull rank on whoever it is would probably not result in anyone thinking better of me.

The murmuring of thoughts pressed in around Saelin, distracting him from the conversation. Someone two tables back was engaged in a furious argument with the supervisor they’d just left, sitting alone and stabbing a fork at their meal viciously.

The non-synced pilot sitting across from Davi was carefully keeping his face blank and wondering with queasy fascination about the sync bond and what it felt like.

“Agent Thirty-two…”

He needed to give more than this, he realised, Davi didn’t respond well if Saelin gave him nothing.

He sighed, put his hands up to massage his temples as if they hurt. They didn’t, yet. “Nobody said or did anything wrong,” he managed to say. “I just - it’s just one of those days. Nearly dropped something, and I just... Overreacting to minor inconveniences. You know how it is.”

Davi’s face cleared slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, I get it.”

That was an odd thing about this. Saelin had thought, when this began, that the sync bond would let Davi hear his thoughts the way he heard everybody else’s. That it would convey reader powers onto Davi somehow, even if it was just Saelin it worked on.

It didn’t. Unless they were sunk really deep into the sync, one bilobed mind with the ship as its metal body, Davi had no more idea of what Saelin was actually thinking than anybody else did. Emotions came across if Saelin wasn’t careful, intentions sometimes, but conscious thought? No. Saelin could still lie to him.

“You always do get a bit oversensitive at lunch,” Davi said, offhandedly. “Low blood sugar or something?”

And every so often Davi would say something that showed two things simultaneously: that he was actually paying attention to Saelin’s moods and preferences. And that he no more understood what powered those moods than Saelin understood the inner workings of the coffee dispenser.

Saelin fought back another wave of grief and refusal, took a deep breath. He swiped his coffee from Davi’s tray and used it as an excuse not to speak for a moment.

Caffeine made his barriers worse, if anything. But the coffee was the way he took it; Davi remembered without asking now, just as Saelin remembered to snag an extra bread roll and ignore the dessert option when he got Davi’s food.

He kind of wished he had gotten the wrong things on purpose. But that was one of those mean, self-destructive little impulses he already knew decent people pretended they didn’t have.

He should give Davi credit for trying, should extend that little bit of grace that said ‘he didn’t mean that to come out as rude as it did, let it go’.

Saelin didn't want to.

“Or something,” he mumbled. “Sure.”

[sanityshorror]

Another Julius canon info please!!

-🧸

I'm so sorry, this is all over the place and I'm pretty sure I've already posted all the information over the course of the last 15 months (I can't believe I posted Julius 15 months ago..) I included his ref and some illustrations/doodles/stretches to jazz it up. ANYWAY

Julius stands at 6'5 inches in his boots, 6'2 without.

Julius is all about deception. Nothing more than a thin veil of beauty to hide the rot beneath – both metaphorically and literally, as Julius is always rotting inside. This leads him to have to regularly replace his internal organs to prevent the rot from consuming him. He has a special rose that decays at the same rate as his body, which lets him know when it's time to change the insides.

If Julius doesn't keep up with maintaining his body, his false form will eventually completely rot and he'll be left in his true form until he fully rebuilds a new body to be his false form

↑ has never happened, however. Being a perfectionist, Julius always keeps up with self maintenance.

Julius is significantly more messed up than Killian. Deception is a helluva thing. There's a reason he scares the living shit out of Killian.

Killian nearly always calls him 'Jules' (his nickname for him), instead of Julius. (Keep that in mind, it's important for MWTSN)

Julius loves animals, especially cats. He really loves cats. He doesn't own any, to his dismay, because he panics over the idea of cat hair getting everywhere.

Julius is basically a cat in human form. Killian discovered when they were young children, if he dangled a string in front of Julius's face, Julius would watch it swing back and forth silently before eventually pouncing at it with no warning. Julius still does this.

Julius is completely apolitical.

He usually uses straws with his drinks, and has a tendency to deliberately loudly slurp from them.

He's generally just a complete sassy bitch and petty as hell.

He's not actually stupid and clearly is rather intelligent. His lack of knowledge on many logic 101 things is based on either 1) the lack of education being a product of his time 2) Julius only learns about things he has interest in, if something doesn't interest him, you couldn't pay him to learn.

Still.. He is..a little dumb xD ↓

Julius was born December 24, 1874 in the outskirts of Dublin, Ireland. He immigrated to Boston shortly after turning 18.

Being a man from the 1800s, he has the expected skill set of one. Meaning, yes, he can hunt, build stuff, ride horses, knows how to survive in the wilderness off the land, so on and so forth.

Julius came from a working class family and came into his money on his own, having a very successful dress shop.

Julius is age locked at exactly 24, he was killed on his 24th birthday.

He was born a human but has been a demon since January of 1899.

He's mob affiliated because of Killian.

His stuffed animal Mr Bear doesn't have any supernatural aspects, Mr Bear is just a regular plushie that Julius is very attached to. He's had Mr Bear since longer than he can remember (fun fact: he was actually gifted Mr Bear by his mother on the day he was born). Mr Bear is very much a comfort item to Julius, he kinda brings it everywhere.

Julius has childish behavior but it's due to mental/emotional stunting, as well as OSDD (I won't elaborate on his OSDD, at least at this time).

Julius is also wise farrrrr beyond his years in other aspects.

He really can't stand being called a Twink lol (he's really not a Twink at all).

Julius is a bit intimidated/made anxious by "fangirls"

He's gay, idk where the bisexual (and straight🗿) rumors began but he's canonically gay and married to Killian Lynch (who is pan)

source: myself, I created both Julius and Killian xD

[olivereliocorcordium1983]

If that whole thing about Kylie not allowing Selena to take a pic with Tim is true let me just say flat out that if I was Tim I would drop this woman instantly.

This is why I can't stand jealous people. I myself have been guilty of this at one point, however jealous people= breeds heavy insecurity.

Jealous people are not cute,it's not romantic, jealousy is not a cute trope. it is an emotion that really serves no purpose in my eyes. it's childish, it's highschool petty behavior. grass seems greener on the other side stuff until you actually see what the other side has and then you regret it or you don't.

I can understand if someone gives a reason for you to feel insecure about yourself. That is why I always say NEVER trust the WORDS that come from someone's mouth ALWAYS look at their ACTIONS they scream much louder.

You aren't about to tell a grown ass man that he can't take a picture with his best friend. They have been friends for a while and I'm sorry but bros before hoes always!

And if some one like Kylie were to tell my best friend no. which really isn't her place to start with it's Tims. I would take a step back and be like "okay, first off who are you?"

It is not about you Kylie! It 👏is 👏NOT👏about 👏you!👏 It is about Timothee you are only there because he invited you to go with him. which in my personal opinion he should have said no.

entitled people make me laugh I'm more heartbroken for Tim and Selena.

I really hope that this Kylie bs stops soon and that Tim drops this woman quickly. No one should control someone, there is a huge difference between asking a partner to not do something to give them peace of mind it's called loyalty, respect and taking your partners feelings into consideration before you do something.

But being a flat out controlling, "everything needs to be about me" toxic person. No that's not good at all.

Am I jealous of Kylie hell no! but Timothee from what I have seen is not the type of person to diss miss anyone whether it's a fan or his friends. He is ways right there in the middle of it to give them what they want or need as a good friend does within reason.

So the fact that he didn't do much of anything shocks me.

If you have good friends you need to take care of them especially when they are there for you. Having a girlfriend or a boyfriend can be exciting I get it but if you fuck over your friends for that Kardashian/Jenner "my shit don't stink cuz I come from a wealthy family bs and have your head shoved so far up her ass those friends will abandon you.

Your friends (the good ones) stay forever until you give them a reason to leave you. boyfriends and girlfriends don't stay forever if they do (that is rare as fuck nowadays) and Timo if you have learned anything from Armie anything at all don't mess with women like the Kardashians they will ruin your life without even lifting a finger.

[seitmai]

So many thoughts

He was gripping the steering wheel of the blue Bronco, and you waited silently for the engine to start. But it didn't. He barely moved. And you barely moved. But you couldn't step away from the window even as the light inside the Bronco faded into the night. Everything was silent. Your pounding heartbeat was all you could hear as the baby squirmed around in your belly like she knew her father was too far away from her now. Minutes passed, and you sank down onto the couch, but Bradley never started the engine.

I can't 😭

Your emotions were a mess as you eventually left the couch to get ready for bed. After you checked on Rose, finding her sound asleep in her crib without a care in the world, you peeked outside one more time. Bradley was still in the driveway, watching over the Craftsman and everything inside. You took your broken heart to bed, trying your best to fall asleep through your tears.

And I am trying to read through my tears 🥲

It was cold outside this late in October, but Bradley sucked it up. He was certain you knew he was still sitting in the driveway, and he didn't want to start the engine at three in the morning and startle you. Or make you think he was leaving. He wasn't going anywhere. So he let the cold surround him. Maybe you didn't want him in the house with you and Rose at the moment, but it was his responsibility to protect his family.

I respect that

Between small spurts of sleep, his mind drifted to the idea of you and Rose packing up everything in the house and moving across the country to live with your parents. It left him on the verge of panic each time. He bought the house for you. He had a family because of you. He was living beyond his wildest dreams married to you.

I just wanna give him a hug 🫂

There was no way to convince you he wasn't lying. There was nothing he could say at this point that wouldn't sound like he was trying to cover his own ass. You could talk to Mav or Nat or Jake until they were blue in the face, but if you didn't trust him, it would sound like everyone was covering for him. Because truthfully, only he and Lieutenant Jeffries knew for sure that Bradley had never touched her.

Unfortunately this is very true..

I'm leaving for work. If you want to talk, come find me, and I'll clear my schedule. We'll figure this out. We have to, because I can't live without you. I love you.

🥺🥺🥺

His stomach growled as he drove, reminding him he didn't get to enjoy what you cooked for dinner last night. He'd been missing dinner too often. It was almost Halloween, and the two of you should have been planning a costume for Rose to wear. He should have been working on an anniversary getaway for November. He'd been fucking up a lot for someone who wasn't aware he was doing it, but he certainly wasn't an adulterer. 

I'm glad though that this serves as a reminder that he hast to get his husband and dad duties back in order☝🏻

Once again, he thought about you throwing all your fancy kitchen gadgets in a box and leaving without a backward glance in his direction. Bradley's hands shook, and he didn't know how he'd make it through the day at this rate.

I really hope for everyone's safety he is not going in the air today 🥴

The walk to his office was long, but not long enough for inspiration to strike. Maybe Nat could give him some advice. She'd been harping on about girl code the other day. As much as he hated to admit it, Jake might be a helpful ally right now. He was a big fan of yours, and always quick to remind Bradley he'd married way out of his league.

Yeah let's round the troops, because he won't get out of this alone when he didn't even realize his fuck up on his own 🫣

This was all exhausting. Nausea and fatigue waged war in his body as Bradley stumbled to his feet once again.

Not to be petty, but I'm glad he gets a taste of his own medicine with BG and her pregnancy symptoms 🤷🏻‍♀️

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, fingers wrapping around the bottle so aggressively, he was afraid it would explode in his hand. He'd been told to keep his distance for now, but clearly Indigo was none the wiser as she followed him right inside his office.

This bitch 😤

Indigo froze before bursting into delighted laughter that set his teeth on edge. "Ruin your life? I can assure you, Sir, I would like nothing more than to have a very good time with you." Any warmth remaining in Bradley's body vanished, leaving him sweaty and shivering. "That's not appropriate," he gasped. "You're reporting to me through Top Gun, and I'm married."

STAND 👏🏻 YOUR 👏🏻GROUND👏🏻ROOSTER👏🏻

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "This was a lot easier last time." "You've done this before?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to the door and empty hallway beyond, wishing he'd just gone to your office instead. 

No fucking way!! But I mean with her behavior this should not surprise me 🤦🏻‍♀️🥴

"I like older men," Indigo replied sweetly. "Ones with lots of pins on their uniforms. And they've always been agreeable before."

Dont get me wrong, I think this is absolutely vile behavior, especially directly to BG, but she is just using the rules that always held women especially in male dominated field back and plays it with her own rules, so I kinda get it were she's coming from.. it's like the "women in male field" trend in a way, in a very morally fucked up way 😅🙈

"Are you out of your mind?" Bradley's voice shook, but it was loud enough that she froze again. "You think I would jeopardize my marriage for you? My family? The thought never crossed my mind!" Indigo licked her lips. "I've seen your wife. She's pregnant again. And she's -" "She's perfect," Bradley barked, eyes blazing as he glanced at the wedding photo. "Do not talk about her. Ever." He squeezed his eyes closed and squared his shoulders before glaring at Indigo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

Halleluja 👏🏻🙏🏻

Why were you in his office? You were crying, working your hands in front of your pregnant belly as you whispered, "I'm sorry, Bradley!"

Omg this is perfect!

When he held his arms open, you rushed into them, burying your face in his chest as you wailed. He had no idea why you were in his office, but if the end result was getting to hold you tight, he didn't need a reason. As soon as you touched him, he immediately felt better. 

🥹🥹🥹

"No. It's not okay," came your immediate, muffled response, arms tightening around him. "I made you sleep outside. I told you I'd leave with the girls." You looked up at him, tears brimming from your eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you." Bradley shook his head, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. "I'm sorry I put you through this shit. This is so fucked up."

Ahh finally, I feel like I can breathe again😅

Bradley kissed your quivering lips as you started to calm down. "Please never leave me. I'm not going to stop being in love with you. Okay? I just want my girls." With one more kiss, he whispered, "And there's nothing wrong with the way you look. You're perfect." The smallest smile found your lips. "That's what you told Indigo."

Yes he did 👏🏻😌

"I hate her." "Me, too," he sighed, exhausted from thinking about Indigo.

Me, three

He let his breathing match yours, falling into a comfortable rhythm that he didn't want to let go of yet. "I have an idea. Let's go home." "Home?" "Yeah. Let's go get Rose from the nursery and ditch the rest of the day. I just want to go home." Now you were the one running your hand along his scarred cheek. "You must be exhausted." When he nodded, you said, "Okay. Let's go home, and I'll take care of you." When you tried to pull away, Bradley kept you close. "No. I'm going to take care of you. I clearly haven't been doing enough of that since I started this position. So that's going to change immediately." "We can take care of each other," you replied easily, but you were smiling.

🥰🥰🥰

You laced your fingers with his and started to tug him toward the door. "To get the ball rolling on Indigo's spectacular downfall." "What?" Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "I just inadvertently managed to clear my name, and you already formulated a plan?" You waved your free hand in the air. "It's like half a plan at best, but it's coming together."

Iconic 👏🏻 😂

Bradley made sure the door locked behind him. "I am in awe of you," he murmured, letting you lead him down the hallway. "Nobody messes with my husband."

And BG takes that promise seriously ☝🏻

You smiled to yourself. "I want to start doing it sooner." "Sooner?" she asked, confused. "How much sooner?" "Tomorrow."

Aim for the Sky Part 35 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're conflicted by your own words, unsure if you can stay away from your husband. There's only one person who can tell you the truth about Bradley, but she's the same one who seems to be on a quest to ruin your life.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, mentions of cheating

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Tramp whimpered at your feet. The muffled sound of the Bronco's door closing sent you to the front window to look out onto the driveway. It was dark, but you could see Bradley's tear-streaked face lit up by the dome light as you choked on a sob. It took everything you had to stand there instead of running to him. 

He was gripping the steering wheel of the blue Bronco, and you waited silently for the engine to start. But it didn't. He barely moved. And you barely moved. But you couldn't step away from the window even as the light inside the Bronco faded into the night. Everything was silent. Your pounding heartbeat was all you could hear as the baby squirmed around in your belly like she knew her father was too far away from her now. Minutes passed, and you sank down onto the couch, but Bradley never started the engine.

You wanted him to come back inside, but you just told him you wouldn't hesitate to take the kids and move back to Maryland with your parents. "What did you do?" you gasped as fresh tears filled your eyes. You couldn't tell if you were being strong or stupid or some combination of the two, but the longer you stared out the window, the more you realized Bradley wasn't leaving you even though you told him to.

Relief washed over you knowing he wasn't running off to Indigo. Maybe there was a way to salvage things. You couldn't take back what you said, and he couldn't take back anything he'd already done with her, but you didn't think you could stop loving him. You didn't think you could separate him from his daughters.

Your emotions were a mess as you eventually left the couch to get ready for bed. After you checked on Rose, finding her sound asleep in her crib without a care in the world, you peeked outside one more time. Bradley was still in the driveway, watching over the Craftsman and everything inside.

You took your broken heart to bed, trying your best to fall asleep through your tears.

-------------------------------

It was cold outside this late in October, but Bradley sucked it up. He was certain you knew he was still sitting in the driveway, and he didn't want to start the engine at three in the morning and startle you. Or make you think he was leaving. He wasn't going anywhere. So he let the cold surround him. 

Maybe you didn't want him in the house with you and Rose at the moment, but it was his responsibility to protect his family. And he wanted to be as close as you'd let him. Between small spurts of sleep, his mind drifted to the idea of you and Rose packing up everything in the house and moving across the country to live with your parents. It left him on the verge of panic each time. He bought the house for you. He had a family because of you. He was living beyond his wildest dreams married to you.

There was no way to convince you he wasn't lying. There was nothing he could say at this point that wouldn't sound like he was trying to cover his own ass. You could talk to Mav or Nat or Jake until they were blue in the face, but if you didn't trust him, it would sound like everyone was covering for him. Because truthfully, only he and Lieutenant Jeffries knew for sure that Bradley had never touched her.

Everything with the Navy took time. Mav was a big help, but a report would need to be written up for formal action. And now Bradley would need to notify someone about the new message Indigo sent with the world's worst timing, but meanwhile he was supposed to carry on like everything was completely normal.

As soon as daylight broke, he rubbed his exhaustion away from his eyes. He wanted to get to base to shower and change into the clean flight suit he kept in his locker, but he had to make sure you knew he spent the whole night in the Bronco first. So Bradley waited until he saw movement inside. Just a quick flick of the living room curtain, but he was sure you saw him. Nevertheless, he sent a text.

I'm leaving for work. If you want to talk, come find me, and I'll clear my schedule. We'll figure this out. We have to, because I can't live without you. I love you.

He didn't expect you to respond right away. He stretched, his body positively aching from sitting in one spot for so long before he started the engine. His stomach growled as he drove, reminding him he didn't get to enjoy what you cooked for dinner last night. He'd been missing dinner too often. It was almost Halloween, and the two of you should have been planning a costume for Rose to wear. He should have been working on an anniversary getaway for November. He'd been fucking up a lot for someone who wasn't aware he was doing it, but he certainly wasn't an adulterer. 

The locker room was empty as he changed out of his wrinkly uniform and slipped under the hot shower stream. Nothing was going to make him feel better if you didn't trust him. Once again, he thought about you throwing all your fancy kitchen gadgets in a box and leaving without a backward glance in his direction. Bradley's hands shook, and he didn't know how he'd make it through the day at this rate.

As he pulled on his flight suit, he thought about going up to your office to wait for you to arrive. But he'd end up on his knees again, begging you to stay with him, and that wasn't what you needed to hear right now. He was exhausted, but he tried to clear his mind and think of some way to convince you he would never do anything to hurt you. But if Indigo already made comments directly to you, it felt like all hope was lost.

The walk to his office was long, but not long enough for inspiration to strike. Maybe Nat could give him some advice. She'd been harping on about girl code the other day. As much as he hated to admit it, Jake might be a helpful ally right now. He was a big fan of yours, and always quick to remind Bradley he'd married way out of his league.

He settled in behind his desk, unable to look away from the wedding photo for a few minutes. You looked perfect that day. You were perfect every day. There was no doubt you'd be perfect without him, but he didn't want you going anywhere unless you took him, too.

"Fuck," Bradley gasped, lungs burning with the effort to hold back his tears. His students would be sitting down to take a practicum exam shortly. He didn't necessarily need to be there, but it would look good if he was. But he'd also have to face Indigo in the classroom. Maverick was still up in Lemoore, and he was the only one who knew Bradley filed a formal complaint.

This was all exhausting. Nausea and fatigue waged war in his body as Bradley stumbled to his feet once again. He needed something to drink. Some cold water. He threw his office door open wide and walked back up the hallway to the small lounge where he grabbed a water bottle and downed it in one go. Panting, he took a second one before slowly heading back the way he came.

He didn't even feel better as he started sweating profusely. He wanted you. He wanted you to let him hold you. He wanted to kiss Rose. 

His office door was just a few feet away when he heard her voice.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, fingers wrapping around the bottle so aggressively, he was afraid it would explode in his hand. He'd been told to keep his distance for now, but clearly Indigo was none the wiser as she followed him right inside his office.

"Sir," she said, voice bold and unbothered. "I thought we could walk to the classroom together."

Bradley spun and looked at her. He really shouldn't be surprised at this point. He also shouldn't be talking to her alone in his office, but she was standing there expectantly, blinking those eyes up at him.

"Unless you're not ready to head over yet...."

Her words trailed off as she casually reached for the door, fingers grazing the wood.

"Do not close that door," Bradley barked, surprising himself with his angry tone. Indigo's hand dropped to her side, eyes wide, but she took a step closer as he backed up until he hit his desk. He managed to set the water bottle down, chest rising and falling rapidly. He shouldn't be talking to her, but he couldn't help himself as he shook his head. "What is your problem?"

She cocked her head slightly, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Sir?"

Bradley skirted along past his desk as she tracked him. "I don't understand why you're trying to ruin my life," he hissed.

Indigo froze before bursting into delighted laughter that set his teeth on edge. "Ruin your life? I can assure you, Sir, I would like nothing more than to have a very good time with you."

Any warmth remaining in Bradley's body vanished, leaving him sweaty and shivering. "That's not appropriate," he gasped. "You're reporting to me through Top Gun, and I'm married."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "This was a lot easier last time."

"You've done this before?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to the door and empty hallway beyond, wishing he'd just gone to your office instead. 

"I like older men," Indigo replied sweetly. "Ones with lots of pins on their uniforms. And they've always been agreeable before."

"Unbelievable," Bradley groaned, ready to throw away all of his insignia pins and run away. "Lieutenant Jeffries, I have never laid a finger on you. We've never been alone in here with the door closed, ever."

"But you wanted to. You can admit it," she whispered, reaching once more for the door.

"Are you out of your mind?" Bradley's voice shook, but it was loud enough that she froze again. "You think I would jeopardize my marriage for you? My family? The thought never crossed my mind!"

Indigo licked her lips. "I've seen your wife. She's pregnant again. And she's -"

"She's perfect," Bradley barked, eyes blazing as he glanced at the wedding photo. "Do not talk about her. Ever." He squeezed his eyes closed and squared his shoulders before glaring at Indigo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

He was afraid she wasn't going to listen, the way she stood there and stared at him in surprise. But Bradley had nothing left. His fingers were shaking, and he was sure he was going to vomit. She finally turned and marched from the room with her chin in the air, and Bradley turned to face his desk.

Panic like he never felt before filled his veins. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now as he gripped the edge of his desk and stared down at his boots. His body shook with silent sobs as he tried to catch his breath, but his brain couldn't seem to get past the fact that his life was in absolute ruins.

"Oh, God," he gasped, lifting his head in time to see his office door move a few inches. Before he could fully register what was happening, you popped out from behind it and carefully pushed it closed.

"Sweetheart?" he croaked, examining your tear-streaked cheeks before you stumbled closer to him.

Why were you in his office? You were crying, working your hands in front of your pregnant belly as you whispered, "I'm sorry, Bradley!"

When he held his arms open, you rushed into them, burying your face in his chest as you wailed. He had no idea why you were in his office, but if the end result was getting to hold you tight, he didn't need a reason. As soon as you touched him, he immediately felt better. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," you sobbed over and over, body shaking against him. "I was so scared, and I look so awful right now. And I'm just so sorry!"

"Shhh," he coaxed softly, kissing the top of your head before letting his chin rest there. "It's okay."

"No. It's not okay," came your immediate, muffled response, arms tightening around him. "I made you sleep outside. I told you I'd leave with the girls." You looked up at him, tears brimming from your eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Bradley shook his head, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. "I'm sorry I put you through this shit. This is so fucked up."

He let you cry, wiping your tears with his thumb as they fell for the longest time. He already felt like he could figure out a way to fix everything as long as you still wanted him. 

Bradley kissed your quivering lips as you started to calm down. "Please never leave me. I'm not going to stop being in love with you. Okay? I just want my girls." With one more kiss, he whispered, "And there's nothing wrong with the way you look. You're perfect."

The smallest smile found your lips. "That's what you told Indigo."

"Baby Girl, that's what I tell everybody," he promised, relieved beyond belief that you witness that miserable exchange. "What are you doing here anyway?" he whispered, keeping you snug against him as you looked up at his face. "Not that I'm complaining, but I wasn't expecting you to want to see me."

"I came to talk to you as soon as I dropped Rose off." You wiped your tears on his flight suit as you added, "When I got here, the door was wide open, so I came inside. Then I heard her voice in the hallway. I panicked and hid behind the door."

"And I couldn't be happier that you did," he whispered.

"She really wanted to close the door."

"She really did."

"I hate her."

"Me, too," he sighed, exhausted from thinking about Indigo. He let his breathing match yours, falling into a comfortable rhythm that he didn't want to let go of yet. "I have an idea. Let's go home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. Let's go get Rose from the nursery and ditch the rest of the day. I just want to go home."

Now you were the one running your hand along his scarred cheek. "You must be exhausted." When he nodded, you said, "Okay. Let's go home, and I'll take care of you."

When you tried to pull away, Bradley kept you close. "No. I'm going to take care of you. I clearly haven't been doing enough of that since I started this position. So that's going to change immediately."

"We can take care of each other," you replied easily, but you were smiling. "I just need to talk to Cat first."

Bradley groaned softly. He was already imagining the three of you at home. He would make lunch while you fed Rose, and then everyone could take a long nap. He just wanted everything to feel normal again. 

"Why do you need Cat first?"

You laced your fingers with his and started to tug him toward the door. "To get the ball rolling on Indigo's spectacular downfall."

"What?" Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "I just inadvertently managed to clear my name, and you already formulated a plan?"

You waved your free hand in the air. "It's like half a plan at best, but it's coming together." You paused. "You know what? I'll just call Cat when we get home. I'm sure we can handle it from there. I really want to snuggle with you, and I'm starving."

Bradley made sure the door locked behind him. "I am in awe of you," he murmured, letting you lead him down the hallway.

"Nobody messes with my husband."

--------------------------------

You felt alive again for the first time in weeks. You were thriving. Bradley never let you out of his sight as he made lunch and burped Rose. He put her down in her crib, wrapped you in his arms, and led you toward the promise of an afternoon nap.

"Wait, Cat's calling me back," you whispered, watching his face fall as he tried to get you to the bedroom. "It'll just take a minute."

"I can barely keep my eyes open," he murmured, kissing your cheek before you backed away. "Just come in when you're done."

You watched him turn to the bedroom, pulling his undershirt over his head as he went. The temptation of his warm body wrapped around yours was almost too much to fight, but when you thought about Indigo, you wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or her face.

"Hi."

"Where are you?" Cat asked. "I thought I saw you in the parking lot this morning, and now you're magically nowhere to be found."

"I'm at home," you told her quickly. "Hey, how close are you to finishing the new code for the Super Hornet updates?"

There was a beat of silence. "Not that close. We aren't rolling out the updates until the end of the year. It'll ground some of the pilots."

You smiled to yourself. "I want to start doing it sooner."

"Sooner?" she asked, confused. "How much sooner?"

"Tomorrow."

---------------------------------

Hearing that straight from Indigo had to make BG feel so much better! Is this me being nicer? Beginning to mend things? Stay tuned.

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[halucynator]

False Fronts IV

part 4 of 4

angst version.

i am absolutely owing my life to @berryzxx bc this bitch (/pos) has given me all my ideas like this wouldn't even exist if it weren't for her also sorry for how late this is?!? i had writers block and then i was packing up to leave uni and go back home woohoo sorry if i accidentally made it third person halfway through bc im stupid

sorry for the wait hope this makes up for it!! didn't wanna release angst and fluff at too different times bc i don't hate you people

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: angst angsty angst angst gut wrenching heart breaking angst, arguments (oohOOHOoH) swearing, not so fake dating (but are they?), the and y/n being idiots, not a happy ending, not proof read (as usual) and my writing

summary: being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. you, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to theodore nott.

im not that mean, the fluffy version can be found here.

once again these beautiful dividers have been created by @cafekitsune!! you can find these exact dividers in a wider range of colours here!

word count: 1.7k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: fluff

The tension between you and Theo had been brewing for days, each passing moment adding weight to the unspoken emotions that hung heavily in the air. Unable to bear the silence any longer, you initiated the conversation, the frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

"Theo, can we talk?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and determination.

He glanced up from his book, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about us," you began cautiously, the words feeling heavier than you'd anticipated. "I feel like there's something here, between us. But I'm confused about where you stand."

Theo's expression flickered, a fleeting mixture of uncertainty and conflict clouding his features. "I don't know if diving into a relationship right now is the best idea."

"But this isn't just about a relationship," you insisted, your voice rising in exasperation. "It's about acknowledging what's been brewing between us, Theo."

He sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure what I want, Y/N. It's complicated."

"Complicated?" You scoffed, the frustration simmering within you. "What's so complicated about being honest?"

"Why can't you understand?" Theo's voice rose, mirroring your frustration. "I don't want to mess things up and end up causing you pain."

"You're not getting it!" Your voice echoed in the charged atmosphere. "I need to know where we stand, and your indecision isn't helping."

Theo's reluctance grated on your nerves, fueling the intensity of the argument. "I need you to be honest with me, Theo. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen!"

"I know, but I'm conflicted," he admitted, his tone wavering.

Frustration boiled within you. "Conflicted about what? Us?"

His gaze shifted away, a mix of guilt and concern clouding his features. "I... I don't want Jess to hurt you."

"I can handle Jess, she isn't your responsibility," you asserted firmly, the frustration simmering beneath your words.

"You don't get it, do you?" Theo's voice cut through the tension, edged with frustration. "She's MY ex."

His words stung, and the heat of the argument intensified. "And that gives you the right to dictate what's good for me?" you shot back, your voice rising in indignation.

"Look, I'm just trying to protect you," Theo retorted, his tone laced with urgency.

"Protect me? From what?" Your voice rose, the frustration boiling over. "I can handle my own affairs, Theo. I don't need you deciding what's best for me!"

The tension crackled between you, each word spoken a testament to the underlying emotions that had escalated into a heated argument. The clash of opinions and conflicting desires hung heavily in the charged atmosphere, leaving the potential relationship teetering on the edge of uncertainty. The anticipation in the room was suffocating.

Days stretched into weeks, and the awkward distance between you and Theo became the new norm. Despite the avoidance, every accidental encounter sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you. Butterflies danced in your stomach, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, now lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

Each time your paths crossed, the unresolved tension simmered beneath the surface. The silent longing for resolution battled with the ache of hurt and confusion, leaving you caught in a turmoil of emotions whenever Theo came into view.

The avoidance hadn't dulled the effect he had on you. His presence was still magnetic, drawing your attention despite the unspoken rift that divided you both. The simple sight of him evoked a rush of emotions, a testament to the bond you once shared and the rift that now tore you apart.

With every passing moment, the yearning for clarity clashed with the fear of confronting the situation, leaving you entangled in a web of unresolved emotions and unspoken apologies, the butterflies a painful yet undeniable reminder of the connection you couldn't seem to sever.

Summoning your courage, you approached Theo's dorm, determined to offer an overdue apology. A hesitant knock resulted in eerie silence. Unsure of Theo's whereabouts, you glanced around the deserted hallway, your resolve mingling with uncertainty.

Taking a tentative step forward, you reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. The decision to enter felt both intrusive and necessary. The room was devoid of life, the emptiness echoing the void that had developed between you and Theo.

Your gaze drifted to Theo's desk, where a single piece of paper lay. The handwriting was unmistakable, sending a jolt of emotions through you as you read the words:

Last night was so fun, so glad you dropped Y/N.

- Jess

Disbelief and a pang of deception ricocheted through you. The words were like a gut punch, shattering the fragile hope you had held for reconciliation and understanding. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with the apparent evidence before you.

Your mind raced, attempting to process the meaning behind Jess's note. It seemed to confirm your worst fears, undermining the fragile trust you had in the situation and leaving your heart aching with the weight of assumed betrayal.

With tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart, you turned away, the intention of offering an apology now replaced by a swirl of hurt. The unaddressed misunderstanding had taken root, poisoning the hope for amends and leaving you in a cloud of uncertainty and hurt.

Approaching Theo with a determined stride, you took a deep breath before speaking. "Can we talk?" you requested, your tone indicating the urgency of the matter.

Theo nodded, a mix of apprehension and curiosity in his eyes. "Sure, what's up?"

Without further ado, you gently pulled Theo out into the corridor, seeking a bit of privacy before diving into the conversation. "What's going on?" you asked, urgency evident in your voice.

Theo's brow furrowed in response, confusion evident in his expression. "What do you mean?"

In response, you reached into your pocket, retrieving the note. Holding it up for Theo to see, you arched an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on his face.

"What's this?" Theo questioned, puzzled.

"You tell me," you replied, your tone laced with a hint of accusation and urgency.

Theo's eyes widened as he caught sight of the note, a mix of shock and confusion crossing his features. "I… I don't know," he stammered, genuine bewilderment resonating in his voice.

The weight of the moment hung heavily between you, the note acting as a stark reminder of the rift that had developed. A tense silence pervaded the corridor, each passing moment thick with unspoken tension, the truth seemingly just out of reach.

Amidst Theo's genuine confusion and your distress, the mystery behind the note remained unsolved, leaving both of you ensnared in a cloud of uncertainty and doubt, the truth obscured by a veil of suspicion.

Holding out the note for Theo to see, you watched his expression closely as he read it. His eyes widened in surprise, confusion etched across his features. "She sent you that?" he asked, incredulous.

"What? No!" you responded quickly, a mix of frustration and confusion in your voice. "She sent it to you. It was in your room."

The implication that Jess had sent the note only added to the confusion between you and Theo.

heo's eyes flickered from the note to your face, disbelief written across his features. "I've never seen this before," he stated firmly, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Well, yeah, I took it," you admitted, the tension in the air palpable.

His brows furrowed in surprise. "Wait, you were snooping around in my dorm?" Theo's voice betrayed a mix of shock and frustration, his focus narrowing on your admission.

"What? That's what you're focused on?" you retorted, a touch of exasperation coloring your tone. The accusatory tone caught you off guard, adding to the already tumultuous conversation.

"Jess is obviously trying to screw up our relationship," Theo retorted, a trace of agitation and concern lacing his words.

"Or maybe you're just making up excuses. How about that, huh?" The words escaped your lips, edged with annoyance and simmering anger, as you grappled with the ease of his denial.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Theo's voice held a note of incredulity, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

"Right now, I am accusing you of sleeping with her and cheating on me," you declared, the accusation spilling out in frustration and hurt.

"Wow, you really don't trust me, huh?" Theo's voice held a note of hurt, his expression a mix of disappointment and irritation.

"Currently, I don't," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret and exasperation.

"Well, If you can't trust me, I can't be with you," Theo replied, his tone laced with a touch of resignation and hurt.

The weight of the situation settled heavily between you, the conversation having taken an unexpected turn. Hurt and distrust hung like a veil, casting a shadow on the once-promising connection between you and Theo.

"Wait, are you breaking up with me?" The words stumbled out, your voice heavy with dejection, a lump forming in your throat.

"Well, you know what? Maybe Jess was right. We weren't really dating," Theo's voice held a trace of sorrow, the admission heavy with a crushing finality.

The realization sank in, the weight of his words like a sharp dagger through your heart. A shroud of sadness enveloped you, the abrupt end of something you thought was real leaving you feeling hollow and shattered.

In the deafening silence that followed, a heavy sadness settled upon you, your heart aching with the bitter sting of a relationship unraveled by doubt and mistrust.

"I'm sorry y/n. I really did try." Theo replies.

"Oh. So this is it then."

"Bye y/n."

"Goodbye," escaped through clenched teeth, a silent echo reverberating through every fiber of your being, each syllable a struggle against the strain of every muscle in your body.

And there you stood, the sudden and sharp cessation of what might have been, seeping into your core. It left you standing in the haunting echoes of a love's demise, surrounded by the desolate remnants of something once cherished.

hi hello! this is the end of the series. check out the fluffy ver here if you'd like!! here are a few fics to read while i work on my next one:

masterlist

reader's choice (mattheo x reader)

reader's choice (theodore x reader)

i honestly had so much fun writing this thank you for sticking along with this <33 sorry for how late this is i was like so busy and im also lazy so yea

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy @jetblackpayne @delulu4marauders @ahead-fullofdreams

if you want to be added to my theodore/any other character's taglist just send me an ask/dm!

[the-specter]

The battle-hardened and valiant Grizzco worker it liked to nickname 'The Red Devil' fell hard to the black and green ink of Inkblot's floor, a heavy gash across his right arm, cutting through his golden slopsuit. Coral looked up at The Specter with a furious glare, his hair red with fury. Even if he was down, facing certain death, he feared not, it was just rage. A humboldt squid was always like this, Specter had taken note of others like Coral in their time.

A surge of energy crackled through its arm as it raised a meat cleaver over the Inkling's head, fury forcing it to strike. So long has this monster disrespected it's people, and for what? Petty revenge? It did not care if he was working to redeem himself, or if he was raising a kid. It wanted him dead.

But the strike never came. The clock hit zero, and Coral jumped to the side. The sirens of victory rang in the air, and a crushing relief rushed over The Specter. The Big Run was over, and it yet again didn't achieve anything. Its fellow Salmonids rushed for the waters as fast as possible. Coral ran to his teammates, keeping them close. Specter didn't dare turn.

It was only a matter of seconds before the earthquake shook Inkblot to it's foundation. A surge of bile rose in The Specter's throat as the shaking caused windows to shatter, and the Humboldt Unit to scream in terror. It's head felt like it was splitting open, a surge of strange magnetic disturbances hitting it from every side. Every thought, every memory, flashed before its eyes at once. That slithering feeling deep under it's golden scales just exploded, and it caused The Specter to scream in terror.

The sky was a bloodier red, and the sun was blotted out in some twisted representation of a solar eclipse. The red shone on it's scales like a bloody mess, and turned any blue cephalopod blood staining its scales or its clothes into a dark black.

The end was here. Mitralypsis had awakened.

The chaos of it's mind did not slow, images and emotions running like rushing Salmonids chasing after glowflies. But through that chaos it pin pointed the point of disturbance, and instinctively it wanted to destroy the disturbance to achieve normality.

It turned to look back at Coral and the others, who were helping each other out from broken glass. Coral made eye contact with it, his rough gaze only softening slightly. It gave a silent nod, a silent apology, and jumped into the water.

Wahoo World it was.

[blueinkedfrost]

"Even monsters aren't monsters all the time." - Finn Durandal, Deathstalker Return

The three final Deathstalker books aren't as good as the first five, but I enjoy the Finn -> Anne -> James dynamic.

Finn Durandal's backstory is that he was born a psychopath, or to be more accurate the popular fictional version of same. Physically and intellectually gifted but unable to empathise with other people, Finn faked having emotions he didn't really feel so that he fit into society, rose to the top of his profession, and then after a petty slight decided to burn the universe down.

Anne Barclay's backstory is that after a lifetime of being regarded as useful but unattractive and boring by other people, she finally snapped and helped Finn take over the universe. She was born gifted and talented but a social misfit. After she decided to be bad, she had her body altered to be good looking, but she continues to lack social graces.

James Campbell is a clone who was made to suit Finn's and Anne's schemes by impersonating the prince (his clone-original). Technically, he's six months old (but appears and thinks of himself as an adult). He never met the old Anne, so he's always known her as beautiful. Finn abuses James to get him to comply, while Anne comforts him afterwards. Anne likes the idea of having someone just for her, someone like James who's only ever known her as beautiful. James just wants to survive, and he'll do anything he needs to do for that end.

Finn comforts Anne at a moment when he doesn't have to, saying that even monsters like him aren't monsters all the time. Anne develops feelings for James instead, while James is just planning to use Anne to survive. I think Finn really did catch feelings for Anne, in his (horrible) way. He reacts harshly to her preference of James and then treats her badly.

I like that dynamic of bad guys with a Thing for each other. They're horrible people. But, just for one moment, their relationship status is not completely messed up.

[hoboblaidd]

Rook rose from this dream within a dream bloody. Solas ignored their trembling, their heaving. He focused instead on the shape half-materializing around them. It was obscured to him, and the brilliance it might have was muted by the prison and impassable distance. But he saw it - saw them. Solas nodded a greeting, as calculated as it is observant. This was old, familiar magic. There were a few immediate options that spring to mind in the absence of any concrete information. Either Rook bound a spirit to protect them, or the spirit had bound itself to them. Given the malice in its ethereal gaze, Solas suspected the latter.

This would not interfere with his plans, but it was an interesting wrinkle in the story of one he’d dismissed as little more than a buffoon. One he would need to tease out when the spirit less agitated and the host less…dramatic.

“Marginally.” Yes, he did feel better. At least now they might dispense of the lectures and pity.

Since this mess had began, every conversation folded in on itself back to him. He was told there was good in him, that he was misguided, that he just needed to see their version of reason. It grated on his last nerve, to be talked to and about as if he were some puzzle to piece together, a wounded animal coaxed to rescue, or a lost lamb in the mountains.

Like he was a project.

For the first time since the ritual, anger at Varric flared in his chest. He’d spun Solas into a character in an impossible play. A wayward friend, a desperate dog, a card played incorrectly. The only difference between Varric’s stories and Dalish legends were that at least the Dalish identified him as something powerful. Varric had cast him as a sad, if cantankerous, thing. It did not matter that they came from love, where the Dalish’s came from lies. Solas was forced to answer Varric’s half-truths as if they were Chantry gospel.

Elgar’nan did not suffer interrogations or answer to his legends. Ghilan’nain did not bear appeals to her better nature. Solas had no desire to be feared, but he had even less a desire to be pitied.

“They were your memories,” he said. “I did not create them.” His mouth twitched into a grin, matching the malice the spirit had a levied on him. “Would you like me to try again?”

As always, Rook answered with performative humor, and the joke fell even flatter on the other side of the abyss. “So I am a man now, and not a god? I suppose that is some sort of progress.”

He shook his head. “You consider a bad dream me hurting you? That was a sliver of what Elgar’nan is capable of. I can suggest a dream. He can dominate your mind.” He already expected the inevitable joke to come from that wording, but there was no point in serving the punchline himself. “Though it may be an impossibility for you, set aside your…colorful epithets and ideas of dazzling him with whimsy, and appreciate him for the very real and very powerful threat he is.”

In truth, it was not so different than Felassan referring to the All-Father as ‘the big asshole,’ or the refugees writing ribald songs that would be blasphemy in court. But Solas had suffered too much of Elgar’nan’s vengeance over thousands of years to make light of it. Solas had watched him move the heavens, erase emotions from the people’s minds, and stab Mythal in the gut. He still bore the scars of the All-Father’s searing rage. If Solas’ display, petty and petulant as it might have been, failed to impress the gravity of Rook’s situation on them, he didn’t know what could.

It is so, so hard not to roll their eyes at him. You knock over one giant statue and stop a world ending ritual and suddenly you are the bad guy. "If I remember correctly the ritual wasn't meant to 'not disturb' the fade, since you were aiming to tear down the dam and let it drown everyone." That's a bit mean, especially after they just mentally tried to reel themself in, but still. The unsaid opinions are clearly spoken on an unimpressed arch of their right brow as they level back Solas' gaze. Unfortunately, if perhaps they hadn't wanted to fidget and pick at their wound, or generally just been more careful, they may have been able to steel themself for what was coming. A wolf's grin is not one that anyone can trust, much less a fox who has strayed too close.

The first shift from the abyss to the new place, wherever it is, makes them flinch. Their sleeping form twitches, so far away from the horrors circling around them. They're stunned by the suddenness, the lack of anything to ground onto as they stumble. They limp a step back and step into decaying flesh and quickly lose their footing as the flesh becomes whole again. The smell of rot and blood overwhelms them as they glance around, their bad eye overwhelmed with colors and-- and-- The Inquisitor shrieks in silence, her life running from her eyes. Hair wraps around her face, one moment curling tight and the next wavy from braids. They see a flicker of vallaslin, of bare skin, of heraldry, and a familiar Kirkwall pin at her nape. Then they only see agony, reaching out to the ghost of a hand, broken apart like the shard of an eluvian.

The next shift makes their body twitch again, curling tight against the back cushions of the couch. Val Royoux they know without a doubt, but this too was wrong. They want to summon their baton, hide their face and throw up a barrier from the-- guard? Demon? Possession? They don't know. The gold seems to bleed around them, the shriek reverberating in their ears in an unearthly silence they can't parse. The flaming weapon sings, but now it sings of a horrible resonance that makes their physical body gasp. Their body sweats as the the blighted beauty sings its terrible song, making them fight against the embrace of love, too young to turn deaf and stay asleep. They step back again, but now they're against a wall. They can smell blight and rot again, the song pounding against their ribs, and they taste the fear. Their fear? The fear of the elves who found them? The fear of a daughter, shoved into a dank, dark place; tasked to hush a crying infant not of her own blood? They don't know.

They're shoved, crumpling into the dark, too small to catch their footing. Their physical body twitches and rolls, thudding down against flagstone without rousing. The fire surrounds them, they watch one family be spared as another must suffer. The dragon speaks, but they can't hear. The silence is a song and they were as deaf as they were blind. The colors kaleidoscope behind their bad eye as old wounds rip open and knit anew, the agony of childhood forced upon them once again. Like a nightmare, it doesn't seem to end. Tumbling through blight, rot, hatred, fire, the first game, the chains, the freedom-- the cage.

They're on their knees when the abyss returns to their senses, the mere lack triggering what confusion had somehow held back. Their physical body sweats and retches, still stubbornly asleep, as their self here-- wherever here may be-- retches in turn. Their eye bleeds anew, throbbing just as bad as it had when the artifact had exploded on them, and they're trying not to cry. Trying not to sob as the pain and confusion clings and clashes; sword against sword, wisdom against pride. They heave, again and again, and their physical body sputters. They were too flat on their back, they were gasping, they were going to choke--

Familiar hands touch them, rounding over their shoulders. The grip pushes them, forcing their body to twist onto its side properly, and let the vomit escape. The hands stay there, dark and formless for just a moment, before they reach deeper. The hands touch the blood bond that tethers the opposing forces between the abyss and should Solas look, should his prison let him see, it's not just a self soothing farce Asha has summoned. The connection is overtaken, just for a moment, and filled with malice. Anger that can only exist in the eternal lashes out, drenched in the blood of countless lives. The formless hands may be like shadows, blurred, but shining with the veins of a spirit. Perhaps instead a demon, with eyes that glower red behind the twisting vines of secretive chains. The anger festers, rotten and twisted, the long forgotten sense of disruption twisted into chaos. Perhaps Solas could recognize that, maybe even the wretched malice of Dirthamen's Needle-- and the paternal anger that floods the connection.

As soon as it comes though, it ends. The formless hand is covered with a flesh hand, shaking and clammy, but nonetheless-- real. "Stop." Asha's voice is weak, watery, but firm. The hijack of the connection abates, the malice fading away into waves of concern, the tidal wave of blood that had been ready to drown the wolf receding back towards Asha. The formless consolidates, taking a blurry shape of an elf. "It's okay." Or better yet-- of a spirit never freed of its bondage. Asha stands slowly, knees knocking together like a halla fawn, and the spirit supports them to their feet. The red eyes shine like rubies now, anger still undoubtedly there, but no longer uncontrolled. Asha shares the same vallaslin as the spirit.

They move slowly, stepping away from the vomit, as they rub at their eye. They blink bloody tears down their face, wheezing softly as their physical body begins to shiver. Still, when they look up, their eyes do not hold hate; hate would be too easy. "Do you feel better now?" They rub their bloody cheek on their sleeve and dust the dirt and bile from their knees. They're still a bit shaky, but they're squaring up their stance, lips peeling into a lopsided grin. "You know, you're lucky-- I usually make men pay me a lot of gold to hurt me." The joke falls a bit flat, their voice wet and warbly, but it is still a joke. It's not like a Tethras to just give up, after all.

"We need to teach you some better dream ideas though; those were shite."