#so maybe not. but if it wasn't like that I would be a prime blood giving candidate <3

[anothermonikan]

saw a post that annoyed me and chose to not rant in tags about it because it wasn't even a fault with the post it was an addition that ticked me off and OP doesn't need to hear all that. I'm god's strongest warrior <3

[wolviensabes]

Logan gets jealous so he decides to make sure you know who you belong to. MDNI

I love jealousy scenarios so much. So here is one with Logan <3 Still figuring out how to write him so keep that in mind too. It came out to be much longer than I thought lmaooo. Possibly will revise later but for now I just wanted to get it out.

Rating: Mature/Smut

Warnings: Afab reader, jealous/possessive Wolvie, brief spanking, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), deepthroat/throat fucking, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink. Unedited, I worked on this for three days and I'm too lazy.

WC: 5k

The moment you got home, he could smell it. That scent on your jacket, your shirt, your skin. It made his nose scrunch up in a way that was impossible to miss. He glared down at you, his eyes narrowing as that stranger's smell seemed to seep deeper into your skin with every passing second. You, completely oblivious to it all, casually hung up your jacket on the rack, not sensing the tension in the air. As you turned back to face him, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare.

"What's wrong?" you asked, genuinely puzzled by the look on his face, which was now a mix of confusion and anger. His reaction made you take a step back, trying to understand what could have possibly caused such a strong response.

Sure, you weren't stupid. Logan was always protective of you, and maybe it was that asshole in the store who kept pestering you with questions about where certain groceries were located. Maybe it was because he stood so uncomfortably close that his shoulder brushed against yours, or perhaps it was the intrusive hand he splayed on your back. You felt a deep sense of discomfort with his touch, and tried giving him clear and concise instructions, hoping to get the man to leave you alone as quickly as possible. The whole situation made you feel uneasy, and Logan had seen it from down the aisle.

His first instinct was to slice that man into pieces and leave him on the ground, but he couldn't do that. Not in the middle of the grocery store anyway. He could feel his blood boiling and his muscles tensing up as he stared intently at the man walking off, every fiber of his being urging him to take action. You let out a breath of relief, feeling the tension dissipate slightly, and turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on the mundane task at hand.

Grocery shopping was one of your least favorite things. You didn't like being around so many people, and that man was a prime example of why.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed the bag of chips you wanted, hoping that the simple act of shopping would help you regain some sense of calmness. You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, just to make sure the man was really gone, before continuing down the aisle to Logan's side.

He said nothing about it, so you assumed he wasn't concerned at all. This lack of reaction from him made you feel a little more grounded and reassured. If Logan wasn't reacting, then maybe that guy was just some harmless idiot and not someone to worry about.

You made the conscious decision to stick next to Logan for the rest of the trip, not bothering to split up and go farther down the aisle as you had done before. The silence between you and Logan seemed to confirm that everything was alright, and you found yourself relaxing more as you walked together.

But you were wrong about his outward stoicism. He was fuming inside.

Not at you, of course, but that man who had the nerve to touch you. Asking where something is in the grocery store already annoyed him, the damn aisles are numbered and have the product written above them. He could've just looked at the signs instead of talking to you and touching you.

Logan let out a deep, throaty growl, staring intensely at you now that you two were back home, the familiar surroundings providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "That bastard really pissed me off," he spat, his voice dripping with anger and frustration, his eyes darkened with a mixture of rage and possessiveness. "The damn nerve of him to come up and touch what isn't his," he continued, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Those deadly blades nearly poking out on instinct.

"That guy is what's bothering you?" you questioned softly, understanding how he might feel after witnessing the stranger be so close to you at the store, having the gall to actually touch you too. You weren't happy about it either, but you tried to keep your cool to show him it didn't bother you, even when it did, so he wouldn't react. "Logan, he was just an assho-"

Your voice was abruptly cut off as his hands slammed forcefully into the wall on either side of your head, creating a resounding echo. He was now standing directly in front of you, so close that you could feel the heat of his breath warming your face. The distinct smell of cigar smoke and musk emanated from him, enveloping you in their combined, heady aroma, you could feel your core clench and dampen.

Your heart pounded in your chest at the close proximity, feeling as though it might burst through your ribcage with each passing second. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady and rhythmic, almost hypnotic in the stillness of the moment. His eyes, which were usually dark and troubled, bored into you with an intensity that was both unsettling and captivating. Now, however, they held an expression you could only describe as fierce and feral, a primal emotion that sent shivers down your spine.

"You are mine, princess," he declared, his voice low and possessive. "Clearly, I don't show it enough now do I?" His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises, leaving you breathless as your body was reacting quickly to his words.

His eyes scanned you, running down your body and to your core, his lips upturned in a smirk, "You naughty girl." His voice was gravelly, clearly enjoying the new scent of arousal that he could smell as obvious as a candle burning in front of you. He grabbed you, his calloused hands clasped around the back of your plush thighs and swiftly lifted you up and over his shoulder. He held you still as he turned and carried you effortlessly through the halls and up to your bedroom.

"Logan!" You let out a small yelp as you were effortlessly thrown over his muscular shoulder. He carried you with ease, striding confidently through the room, only to be answered with the quick swing of your body being thrown down onto the bed. You landed with a grunt, the impact bouncing you slightly on the mattress. You looked up at him, standing over you with a commanding presence. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. He reached down, tugging your pants off with a swift motion, letting them drop onto the floor by your feet.

"Hush..." he grumbled, his voice carrying a rough edge as he threw his shirt off with a swift motion. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abdomen, packed with well-defined muscles that flexed and rippled as he tossed the shirt carelessly to the side. Each movement seemed to highlight his features, he glanced back down at you after he had thrown the shirt off, rolling his shoulders back.

You had seen him shirtless many times before, yet your reaction was always the same. It was as if his physique had a magnetic pull, making it impossible to look away. The sight of him never ceased to leave you in awe, and it seemed each time you saw him like this, you discovered something new to admire.

He lifted his hand slowly, fingers curling tightly to form a fist, and with a deliberate motion, one of his three adamantium blades began to slide out from within him. The slow, smooth sound of it grazing through his knuckles and tender flesh, emerging inch by inch until it was fully exposed, sent a shiver down your spine and made you swallow thickly. The gleam of the claw in the dim light only added to the tension, and you had a pretty clear idea of what he was going to do next.

He leaned down, the claw gently trailing from your knee and up your thigh, moving slowly and deliberately, right up until he reached your center. The sensation was both thrilling and unnerving. Most would flinch at having such a thing near them, the sharp metallic edge so close to their skin, (especially when it came to the person wielding it), but you didn't. You trusted him completely, and while you felt a mix of excitement and slight uncertainty fill you, you stayed still for him, your heart pounding in your chest.

As the claw continued its path until it laid against the center of your panties, you felt goosebumps rise from your skin, each tiny bump cause by the mixture of sensations rushing through you. The cool metal chilled your body, leaving what felt to be an icy trail on your warm skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of your own flesh. The experience was almost surreal, like a dance between fire and ice, and you found yourself lost in the moment, every nerve ending heightened, every touch magnified.

You could sense his intent, the care with which he moved, and it only deepened your trust. He'd never actually harm you, and besides, it was fun to include them. The blade traveled farther up your body, under your shirt until it poked out of your collar near your neck. He glanced at you before jerking his arm back and swiftly tearing your shirt completely in half.

Your gasp was loud and sudden, your eyes widening with shock as you watched him effortlessly rip your shirt off with his sharp claw. He trailed it slowly down your chest, gliding it with a deliberate and almost teasing motion across your body, allowing you to feel its cold, metallic touch on the tender and delicate skin of your soft belly. The claw was lethal, easily capable of inflicting ruthless injury or ending your life in an instant.

But he doesn't, and you know he wouldn't.

The thrill of the danger, the razor's edge between safety and peril, heightened your senses like never before, leaving you acutely aware of every sensation and emotion coursing through you.

You reached down with a deliberate, yet tender motion and gently held his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingers. With careful precision, you guided his hand upwards to your chest, allowing his large palm to come to rest over your breast. His nostrils flared with a sharp breath, signaling his heightened awareness. Your tongue slowly emerged, and you carefully licked the side of his claw, a metallic taste and cool sensation on your taste buds.

The way your tongue slid over the blade, oh so carefully, made him growl and it retracted once he saw your tongue was safely out of the way. You whined quietly, you were having fun teasing him. "You wanna be a tease, do you?" His voice grunted out, he jerked you up and tossed you to the floor, your knees hit the carpet and you whined.

He paused only for a second, then he fiddled with his belt and tugged it out of the loops in one jerk. The act of that made you quiver below him, blinking up as he harshly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down and his thick cock sprang out of his boxers. Red and angry, the tip completely blushed and shiny with the precum that had been spread on his tip.

His hand reached for your hair, grabbing onto it and tugging you closer. His cock brushed against your cheek as he used his other hand to position it at your mouth, "Open," he demanded lowly to you. Your jaw relaxed and your lips parted, allowing his salty tip to slide into your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the blushed flesh, tasting and cleaning his sticky cockhead. He grunted in response, a pleased sound ripples through his throat as he pushed himself farther into your warm mouth. Your tongue was a soft cushion for the underside of his dick, he relished feeling it with each thrust into your throat.

Logan's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a possessive intensity. He growled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled you even closer to him. You made a muffled whine, a desperate sound that escaped your lips, your eyes looking up at him from where you were below, wide and pleading. He almost looked completely feral, his eyes wild and dark with an unrestrained hunger. He huffed as his chest rose and fell quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, the tension between you almost palpable.

"You belong to me, princess. I'm going to make sure every single part of you remembers that. Even when I'm done fucking you." Logan growled out, watching his cock disappear in your throat as he thrust his hips forward. The sudden intrusion into your throat made your eyes widen and you gagged, not expecting him to do that.

"That's it, who's cock do you gag on? Mine. Who's cock do you like to suck on, hm?" He angled you more to look at him while keeping himself safely tucked into you mouth, the tip of his dick brushing up and down the fleshy, soft meat on the back of your throat. Bubbles of saliva popped at the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of your throat, each time hitting the back and sliding down.

"Ugh, yeah...that's it...take it down, pup," he chuckled and watched you struggle to take him with each thrust, you still did your best to attempt to swallow all of him, knowing how it drives him crazy seeing you choke. "Slobber all over my cock, mine...the only cock that you get."

Logan grunted lowly, the sound vibrated from his chest and through his throat, his eyes closing as he focused and you could feel his dick twitching inside your mouth. "Here it comes, princess, be a good girl and swallow it." His voice was dominant and demanding, you prepared for his thick, heavy load that was soon to coat your tongue and slide down your throat.

His hips stuttered, his hold in your hair tightened and in one swift thrust, he was sheathed in your mouth. His cum began to flood across your tongue, giving you a slightly salty taste as it continued to spill out of his swollen dick. You had to swallow twice before you could finally breathe again, it felt like he was unloading everything he had. When he pulled out, he watched as his cock popped out, a gasp escaped your throat and your face messy from his thrusts. He grinned down, satisfied with how disheveled you were. "Look at you, such a mess."

You lifted your eyes up, swallowing the rest of his spunk and breathing heavily. You were breathless, your jaw ached and your throat felt bruised for sure. He took a step back and took you in, the image of you ingraining in his brain and blood flowed down to his cock. His fingers ran through your hair lightly but quickly tightened again, lifting you to stand.

Your legs felt shaky and unsteady from sitting on your knees for such a prolonged period, and you were still a bit dazed and disoriented from sucking his cock. The discomfort in your legs was matched by a slight buzzing throb in your head, making it difficult to regain your composure. "Ain't no one makes you such a pretty mess like this but me...you won't forget that. I don't give a damn who hears those sweet little noises that come out of your mouth."

He moved you onto the bed again, this time face down, and your belly hit the mattress with a rough huff. Logan's rough hands ran up the back of your bare thighs and over the round of your ass. "Such a sweet peach, princess..." he grabbed the meat of your ass and spread you open, gazing down at your holes.

He leaned in and inhaled your scent, making you squirm and whine his name, he groaned under his breath in response and spit onto your cunt. You could barely register what he was doing before you felt his tongue push inside and he began lapping at you like a starved man. His tongue curled and gathered as much of you as possible, tasting your arousal from the source as his pupils dilate with desire.

You can't help but moan as he ate you out, his hands kneading and groping your ass as he did so, snarling against your core while his tongue effortlessly assaulted and teased your clit. "You taste so damn good, look at you, soaked already..." he sat up and pushed two fingers inside to stretch you out, making you groan loudly from the sudden intrusion. "Logan!"

"Yeah...you like that don't you...feeling my fingers inside you. Haven't fingered you in a minute huh...feels good? You like when I curl 'em don't you...like..." he adjusted his wrist and he curled his fingers against that sweet, delicate spot inside you that makes you cry out in pleasure. "Yeah...that's it," he chuckled with amusement, hearing your pretty little noises. His calloused fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spongey wall and your legs began to tremble. Your fists gripped the sheets and you cried out against them, your pleasured noise muffled by the blankets. "That's what my girl likes..."

"Logan...oh god..." you whined desperately, rocking back into his fingers, chasing that sweet high that was soon to hit you and explode. "I'm gonna cum..." you rasped and did what you could to drive yourself there, the brink was so, so close...but just as he felt your walls slicken a little and tighten around his fingers, he retracted them. Right before you went over the edge, he denied you, making you groan in frustration. "Logan," you cried desperately and with slight frustration, "I was almost there!"

He had that shit-eating grin on his face, loving how desperate you became when you needed to climax. "Not so fast, sweetheart...I am going to fuck you until you can barely take it. And then some." Logan smacked your ass once, sending a sharp sting up your spine. The noise sounded loudly in the room and making you yelp slightly, your face felt hot and you bit your lip. "Maybe I should lay a few of these to ya...for begging so much...you'd like that wouldn't you? You naughty thing," He gave you another spank and you whined at the stinging sensation.

"L-Logan, please...I-I need you..." your voice was so desperate and pitiful, you could feel his hand on the small of your back, holding you still but not applying pressure. He didn't have to, he knew you'd lay perfectly for him, his pretty girl.

"I know...you need me huh? This poor pussy is so needy for me?" he chuckled, "You about broke my fingers with how tight you were. You gonna be that tight around my cock?" he asked, leaning over your body and placing a hot kiss to the side of your neck. The sensation of his lips on such a sensitive spot almost made you cry out. You felt like your body was on fire.

"Please! Please, I need you inside me! Don't tease me anymore...." your voice begged him, you wanted his cock stretching you out so badly...and he seemed to enjoy your desperation enough to give in. His cock head rubbed between your folds, he grinned and shuddered when he felt just how hot your core was.

Normally he'd just shove himself inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust, but not this time. He loved seeing you needy, especially after that bastard at the store had the audacity to touch you. The mere sight of it made his blood boil and his chest tighten with jealousy. He knew deep down that you hadn't done anything on purpose and that it wasn't your fault, but still, the image of it lingered in his mind. It gnawed at him, filling him with an almost unbearable urge to assert himself. He had to prove something to both you and himself. It was as if an uncontrollable fire had ignited within him, his primal instincts demanding him to take action.

He instead slowly began to push inside, his cock stretching your tight hole and you let out a loud whining cry. It wasn't enough; your desire for him was overwhelming, you craved all of him, every part of his being. Yet, he was deliberate in his actions, taking his time and being slow and precise with you, almost as if savoring each moment. His meticulous approach only heightened your instinctive need, making the yearning even more intense.

When he was fully inside, your cries for him grew even louder, your voice filled with a mix of desperation and desire. Your whining and squirming only intensified as you clung to him, feeling the overwhelming sensation of him deep within you. You wanted him to move, to give you the release you craved, but he remained still, demonstrating an incredible amount of self-control.

The way your body writhed against him drove him absolutely crazy; every movement you made sent shivers down his spine. He wanted nothing more than to hold you down, to keep you in place and listen to those beautiful, intoxicating sounds that escaped your lips, savoring every moment of your shared intimacy.

You were utterly intoxicating to him. His hips finally moved, pumping in and out of you with vigor and passion. Logan's firm hold on your plush hips made him groan and growl against your neck, his warm huffs of breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your skin. Each exhale created goosebumps all over the rest of your body, making you respond with pathetic sounds of pleasure. The heat radiating from him was intense, the man ran hot as it was and it felt like his entire body was a heater on high, intensifying the intimate connection between you both.

As his fingers dug slightly into your soft flesh, his deep desire for you became more apparent when he jerked your body closer to him as he continued to pound himself in and out of your tight cunt. "You love this cock don't you princess? Does it feel good...you are so desperate huh?" he whispered in a throaty, guttural voice, his lips grazing your ear as he held you flush against his body.

You felt tears prick your eyes as the intense feeling began to rush through your body, your pussy was so sensitive and he just kept pounding you. "Mhm....nngh yes..." you rasped weakly, "S-so good...so good Logan...y-you're making me bulge down there..." Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the lower part of your abdomen slightly show his dick from when he sunk into your sex.

"Only I get to make you scream and cry like this, hm? Only me. You love when I fuck you like an animal don't you? Do you want that?" he pushed you back into the bed, your arms wrapped around the pillow for any kind of support as you cried and felt him begin to pound into you even harder. The feeling of your slick warming even more from the friction made you scream in delight. It felt so incredible, no man has ever made you feel so fulfilled before...

"M'gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, gonna fill this pretty belly with my cum and watch you swell up. Then no one will touch you. You're claimed, no one will ever come up and touch you again, you're all mine," Logan hissed lowly and angled your hips up slightly, his cock hitting your cervix and teasing it with the promise of his cum.

Your body reacted to his movements by squeezing him, your velvet walls tightened around his dick and tried milking him even more as he thrusted and claimed you as his own. "My good girl...nngh...takin' my cock so good, fuckin' you to tears hm? No one else can get you this way, can they?" he growled against your skin, holding you desperately close as his hips drove into you more and more.

"Logan, I'm gonna cum...please, let me cum," you whined pitifully, tears rolled down your cheeks as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing your body. Every word that came from his mouth went straight to your clit and you were attempting to milk him before he was ready to climax himself.

"So needy... You really want to? You think you deserve it?" he asks in a low, almost mocking tone, chuckling to himself as he watches you with an intense gaze. Your tears stream down your face, and you mewl pathetically, your desperate cries echoing in the room, each sound seemingly fueling his amusement even more.

The scent of your arousal filled his nose and it drove him into you even more, his His hips stuttered, attempting to push faster than before, driven by a desperate need to increase the pace. Logan groaned deeply, the sound resonating through the room, his arms tightly wrapped around your midsection, pulling you closer. His muscular chest tightened with effort, every sinew straining as he used all the power he had to continue pounding you with relentless intensity. His skin, now slick with a light layer of sweat, pressed damply against your back, providing a heated contrast to the cool air. His chest hair was slightly tousled and damp, scratched along the skin of your back as his hips thrusted.

"Logan, I can't hold it any longer...please let me-" you rasped desperately, your entire body trembling and screaming at you to let it all go. Every muscle was tense, fighting against the overwhelming urge, yet you craved his permission more than anything. You needed to hear him say you could, to feel that moment of release granted by his word...

"Alright pretty girl, come for me, let it out, cum all over my cock...let me know how good I make you feel~" Logan urged you on and his hands roamed up your body, grasping your breasts and gently pinching and rolling your nipples in his index and thumb. That was all your body needed to go over the edge.

You felt an intense wave of adrenaline and warmth spread from your core, radiating throughout your entire body. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you cried out Logan's name, your voice a mix of desperation and euphoria. As your head became fuzzy and dazed, the feeling of pure ecstasy washed over you, filling your senses to the brim. You were completely overcome by the powerful emotions, your body trembling with the intensity as his cock mercilessly continued to pound into you.

"Ohh yes...that's it princess...let it out baby...cream on my dick," he groaned in your ear, the sound making you clench harder, if that were possible. His hips finally began to falter and he leaned over you to let gravity help his rutting. "M'gonna fill you up, til y'r dripping with me." Logan's eyebrows were knit tight and he let out a loud groan as his hips finally stopped, pushing hard against you as he reached his peak.

His cock kissed against your swollen cervix and he unloaded his orgasm deep into you, shooting rope after hot rope of cum until you were so full it began to ooze out around him. The sensation of it dripping down his balls made him snarl, he pulled out just enough to see it slowly coming out of your pretty, swollen pussy before he used his cock to swipe it up and push it back in.

"Keep it in there, sweet girl...keep all of me in you. You love it, being so full of my seed it leaks out of you." He reached around and teasingly wrapped his hand around your neck to give a gentle squeeze.

You, in a complete daze, so high on your climax you could barely think. He hadn't fucked you this hard in so long. You babbled lightly, attempting to form coherent words, but you weren't able to construct a complete sentence. He chuckled softly, his warm breath and lips brushing lightly against your temple. "Atta girl...so dizzy," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did I make you feel good? Hm?" Logan almost purred against you, his voice low and soothing, as you felt the gentle vibrations of his chest reverberate against your back, adding a comforting aspect to the intimate moment.

"Now, now...you just rest. You did so good for me." He placed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you to lay on him and reluctantly pulling himself out of you. "We can clean up later...right now, I want you here." He held your body close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he adjusted a bit to make you more comfortable.

He felt pride and satisfaction when he smelled you, leaning down to inhale lightly. He no longer sensed that awful stench the stranger had left on you from before. Now, it was just his own scent imbedded in your skin, his claim on your was loud and clear to him and it would be to everyone else too. He continued to hold you, his warmth surrounding you, creating a cocoon of security.

You were far too tired to argue. Every bone in your body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force, and the idea of cleaning up seemed like an insurmountable task. You would clean up later, but for now, you needed a moment to recover from your high and daze. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and the only thing grounding you was his presence and firm arms wrapped around your body. You were happy laying with him, despite that smug ass smirk he had on his face when he observed you. His eyes had a glint of amusement, and you didn't know why he seemed so full of himself until you saw yourself in the mirror half an hour later.

When you caught your reflection, you were shocked to find your skin covered in dark bruises, all adorning your neck and shoulders. It was then you understood the reason behind Logan's self-satisfied expression. There was no way you could cover these, and he made sure of that.

"Logan!!"

That bastard.

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by leaving a 🧡.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC: Original Serial Adopter

When Bruce adopted Dick Grayson the Media was in a frenzy. The billionaire and playboy adopting an orphan after some kind of freak circus accident? Nobody expected it to last more than a month. The media called this action an "Act of Charity".

Then a few years later he adopted Jason Todd. Jason was much more scrappy and after a while some media started calling him the "Wayne Stray".

When he took in Tim after Jason's "accident" they called Tim a rebound. But instead of a relationship Tim was just being used to fill the void that Jason left. The media eventually called him "Jason Todd's replacement."

The media got much more suspicious when Bruce adopted Cassandra and crossed lines with their speculations that resulted in a lot of lawsuits. Though nobody in Wayne's circles believed the rumors for a second, so rumors were wiped out pretty quickly. The least offensive of these things called Bruce a "Bleeding Heart" when the media saw the scars Cassandra had.

Stephanie was never officially adopted - at least legally - but anybody who saw her with the family knew that Bruce had adopted her as a daughter. Like Cassandra she got some negative comments but they learned after the first time. "Another Wayne Joins The Manor".

When Damian came into the picture the media exploded. Comments along the lines of "The Bastard Child" which made Bruce's blood boil but kept quiet. Damian had only known violence and aggression growing up, and while his mother loved him she had exposed him to a life he didn't need to see. Bruce wasn't about to make everything worse by loosing it on the media for being jackasses.

When he fostered Duke the media exploded again. Showing the ugly side of human ignorance but Bruce and Duke were both able to ignore it (while Tim and Oracle found ways to rip every person apart who dared make a comment against them).

Bruce didn't care what they said, because at the end of the day he had children who he loved with all of his heart and was learning to do the best for. Sure, he made plenty of mistakes but he tried to learn from his mistakes.

Though the rumor about Bruce being a "Serial Adopter" was one that would be one that would never leave him.

But he had to learn it from somewhere.

A fact that was ignored until Alfred showed up back to the manor after a shopping trip with a scrawny child walking hesitantly behind him, carrying some of the groceries'. He was prime "adoption bait". Underweight, messy black hair, blue eyes that were just a bit too blue, and bruises that were in view despite the kids best attempt to cover them with his hoodie.

A large hand print bruise around his neck, scraped knuckles, and a bruise peeking out from under his hairline might as well have been ink in the pen that Bruce was going to use to sign that kids adoption papers and sign the receipt for the shovel he would buy to bury the bastards responsible.

After the groceries were put away Alfred properly introduced the kid. His name was Danny and after a series of unfortunate events while Alfred was shopping Danny had been forced to jump in and help him. Bruce thought that maybe Alfred had been in danger and never called them but when it became clear that luck just wasn't on his side and that he was never in danger for anything despite being late it made Bruce even more concerned about the teen that currently was eating his third apple as though he had never eaten anything in his life.

He stayed small, stayed silent, looking around the room anxiously. He clearly kept tabs on every window. Every door. Every exit but hardly paid any attention to the valuables. He was scared but not a thief.

Finally they have to ask about Danny's injuries. Was he safe at home? Did he have a place to stay? Why was he so thin? Did he need them to call somebody.

Danny was quiet for a long time.

"I don't have a home to go to. The bruises are fine, I'm just clumsy. I don't need a place to stay. Thanks for the food and the hospitality but... I don't feel like being kidnapped and tortured by another millionaire so if Alfred doesn't need anything else I should go."

Danny tried to get up and move, the pain obvious but before anybody could say anything else Alfred simply said.

"Sit."

Danny hesitated, then sighed and sat down again.

"You promised you would allow me to treat you before you left. I am a man of my word so as soon as you finish your apple I will bandage your wounds and you will be free to leave if you wish."

Classic Alfred trap.

One that worked flawlessly.

Fresh bandages, a full stomach, warm clean clothes and a cup of hot chocolate on the comfortable couch in the living room was all it took to lull the injured teen to sleep.

Alfred continued this trend for three more days managing to trick Danny into helping him with minor tasks around the manor, offering him another meal because he 'made too much and didn't want to waste it' and countless other things.

It wasn't until day four when Danny seemed to accept his fate and allowed them to help him. Which prompted Cass to point at Alfred.

"Original Serial Adopter."

Making the entire table laugh while Danny just looked increasingly confused.

[songsofadelaide]

"Oh, so the one percenter Officer Hibino and Captain Ashiro were childhood friends?"

You knew better than to partake in office gossip, but it was difficult not to hear things when everyone had been talking about the Third Division's new recruits. They say this year's crop is one of the best, and there was a prodigy in your midst, too, in the form of Director General Shinomiya's daughter, Kikoru. There was no doubt that the girl looked up to her as well.

It wasn't new hearing how many young bloods decided to join the Defense Force because of the cool and level-headed Captain Mina Ashiro, but her astronomical rise in rankings did not come as a surprise to many of the top brass. She had raw yet rough talent— the kind that had to be honed and sharpened like a blade meant to kill.

Ashiro was a genius. A diamond in the rough at first, but now a polished centrepiece of the crown that is the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force.

It's hard to believe now she once looked up to you as her senpai. She still does, but you just don't let it get to your head. While you were glad she overcame her exhaustion ever since Director General Shinomiya took a special interest in her and her abilities, there was no denying that something inside her snapped. She would still rest her head on your shoulder every once in a while when you occupied the baths, and you could find the semblance of her tender, younger self, her lips curved to a small smile at times before she eventually shook it off.

"Does it get tiring?" You once asked her as you sank into the warm baths yourself before the fatigue from today's training further settled in your bones. You could tell that a sigh wanted to leave her lips, but she shook her head instead. "It does, but... knowing everyone gets a night of restful sleep is worth it."

What frustrated you wasn't the fact that she overtook you. It was the fact that she had to be at the top all alone.

They called you a burning star. You reached your prime way too early and burned out fast— and eventually condemned yourself to a fate of mediocrity, never overcoming the wall that both saved you from crashing even deeper and slugged your growth.

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 47%

It was always the same result for the last few years. You try not to look crestfallen when you hear Okonogi encouraging you through your comms. It was no wonder you hit a dead end as a platoon leader. They say people your age should be more accomplished— perhaps a vice-captain... But you didn't dare aspire. Aspiring was for dreamers, and more ideally and realistically, for those just starting out in the force. Old-timers like you don't get to dream anymore.

"I'm not fooling anyone... It's been years since I had my shot at a promotion. I'm not getting any better, either..."

You didn't understand why you were so hung up on the whole thing, either. Ebina was content with how things were, or at least he tried to be... But you would both be lying to yourselves if you said outright that you didn't feel the least bit threatened by the rising stars of the Third Division.

On a particularly warm night, while everyone else was already at rest, you reflected on the events of the day on the base rooftop, your can of black coffee nearly drained as a sigh that gradually turned into a grumble escaped your lips.

"Hmm. Maybe I should consider that fox-faced Vice-Captain's joke and retire early. Even though I know he doesn't mean it... But 30 is way too late to get married, no matter how I look a—"

You were so deep into your self-loathing that you didn't notice the new recruit approach you with his own canned drink in hand. "What? Are you planning on getting married, Platoon Leader?"

"Gah! O-Officer Hibino! Where did you—"

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to ponder a bit but I heard you, uh, talking," Kafka said with a crooked smile and hands raised in defence. "What're you saying, though? Don't you know how much skill it takes to raise your combat power to that level? Let alone maintain it..."

"Maintaining combat power is one thing, but not being able to grow any stronger is another. Every single one of the new recruits is eager to skyrocket to great heights. I'm sure you're no different, seeing as you want to... to stand next to the Captain if I heard you right the last time," you stated with a clenched fist, the coffee can only slightly crumpling in your hand. "Personally, I feel like I've... stopped growing a long time ago. Platoon Leader is all I'll ever achieve and I..."

I feel so pathetic.

"Does it really matter? Where you stand and all... Ranks are good and all, but I think carrying yourself with pride is more important," he answered you without missing a beat. There was a shine in his eyes you hadn't seen in a long time. "I know everyone calls you a burning star, but that's not what I heard from the Vice-Captain and Min— Captain Ashiro."

Hope.

"The Third Division stands because of its pillars, but cornerstones like you are important, too. The Captain referred to you as such," Kafka stated with the same crooked yet comforting smile. You've only had a handful of interactions with him, but you confirmed soon enough that he had a kindness that seemed to melt away your worries. "Besides, a burning star is still a star. It's still a dazzling celestial body, regardless of what people say about it, regardless of how burned out it is."

You had to admit that he was pretty cute, too. Then again, Tae would point out that you've always had a weakness for hard workers, so it was only a matter of time before your stupid crush was discovered— Who the hell does this guy think he is? Giving me hope, of all things.

He was a burning star, too, but he burned so bright that you couldn't look away. Maybe he wasn't a burning star. Maybe he was a beacon. Either way... A burning star is still a star. He said it himself.

"Don't retire just yet, Platoon Leader. You're a cornerstone, after all. The Captain needs you still. Besides, don't you want to see us new recruits storm the floor at missions?"

Hope was the last thing on your mind, but Kafka had an abundance of that shine in his eyes that made it hard to look away.

"Soshiro-kun was right about you," you said with a small smile closely followed by a sigh of defeat. "You're way too upbeat for someone who's only at 1%!"

— The Raid on Tachikawa Base

"Tell me something good, Konomi-chan. How's everyone else on the field at the moment?"

"Platoon Leader! You—"

You could sense the shock in Okonogi's voice even through your slightly garbled comms.

"Y-Your unleashed combat power is—!"

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 53%

While that wasn't exponential growth, that was still growth. The first of its kind you've had in years.

"A-Are you okay, Platoon Leader? Your heart rate is increasing!"

"I-I'm fine, Konomi-chan!" You stammered right back, an uncharacteristic flush on your face that your subordinates swiftly took notice of. They hardly had the chance to tease you about it when you groaned to yourself as you fiddled with your firearm. "What the hell am I getting all worked up for?..."

Your combat suit made you feel steamy all over, the heat reaching your joints anew. The surplus of power coursed through your every vein and fibre and made you surprisingly tactless. "I'm hardly at her level!"

Right from the start, you knew that you were competing with a monolith. A phantom from the past... and the present. Mina wasn't your competition. You made that clear to each other from the start. But when you remember the unusual smile that graced her face for a single moment when Kafka gatecrashed the Presentation of Enlistment Certificate Ceremony with that stupid declaration of his—

You were competing with the shadow of the Captain of the Third Division in this stupid thing called love, of all things!

The static in your comms cleared up, followed by Kafka's voice filling your ears, his tone both solid and encouraging, filling you with hope once more.

"Platoon Leader! Don't compare yourself to her! Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Just remember that you're Captain Ashiro's cornerstone! You cover for her in places she can't reach, right?!"

Static, again, before Okonogi sends out a command for your platoon.

"We'll need you on the field soon, Platoon Leader! On the Vice-Captain's order!"

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 54%

"Let's get to work, then!" You declared to your subordinates with a smile that did not suit the situation. But seeing your improved numbers filled them with the same hope that theirs will rise, too. "How could I forget that burning star's still a star?"

[sabotourist]

Some thoughts on season 19

This is probably going to be one of the most personal things I ever post on social media. But I have some thoughts.

Sarge and Doc died. Doc wasn't even killed on-screen. Was barely even mentioned until the end. He died having only saved two people in his entire career as a medic. Sarge died, and Donut wasn't even there to see it happen.

Was he off grieving Doc? Was he just doing other stuff? I don't know. But he was gone.

Why was he actually gone? Probably for budget reasons. Time constraints. Studio trouble and issues with the engine or model or whatever else. Writing constraints that forced Donut and Doc into such secondary roles. Into dying off screen. Into not even being there when two people you care so much about die.

But like, how much of that was actually in the narrative's control? They had these limitations to write around, and it put these characters in situations where they couldn't be in narratively satisfying roles.

In some ways, it's the most brutal depiction of what life is like.

When I was 14, I lost touch with my best friend. I just didn't keep my phone on me often at the time. He died. I think, if he had lived, he would have gone on to do some absolutely amazing things. He didn't get to. He called me a couple days before it happened. I didn't see it.

Death isn't fair. But it's not the end.

I think, if the story had had more time, these characters could have had better roles. But life isn't always so kind. Death isn't always so kind. We lose people when we're not looking. We blink and people are gone.

Doc, Sarge, Church, and Tex are dead. Wash was in an institution again. Tucker just went through all that. Grif went back to earth.

That's... that's brutal. Why don't I hate it? On paper, I'd hate it.

I think it might be because it doesn't feel like a goodbye, or even the end. There are loose ends. A lot of them. There's so much pain there, so much healing and moving on to be done. Just because Grif went back to earth doesn't mean he and Simmons don't call all the time. Just because Donut wasn't here to maybe save Sarge doesn't mean he won't be there eventually.

Just because Doc only saved two people doesn't mean it didn't matter.

Life is brutal. Death is brutal. Shit happens. Shit that isn't fair. Whether it's people we love dying, or just studio drama fucking a show.

But... that doesn't mean it's the end.

Doesn't mean Simmons is going to be alone, doesn't mean Doc died for nothing, doesn't mean Sarge's sacrifice meant nothing, doesn't mean Wash or Tucker's lives are ruined, or that Caboose can't have a new best friend.

I like to imagine Donut taking up medical studies after this. Doc saved him. He's going to make damn sure that matters. Maybe Blood Gulch becomes something of a boot camp for some future loser rejects in need of a home that Simmons can guide.

Church, in all his forms, may be gone. But that doesn't mean they're going to be so quick to forget. Leave the past in the past. But still look back from time-to-time. It got you where you were.

Sometimes we pass memories down through stories. Sometimes, just in the choices we make throughout our lives.

But just... unfair things happened. To the show, and to the characters in it. To the people running it. My best friend died when he was 14. Monty Oum died in his prime. Life is tragic. But hey, it's not the end. It's just the start of something new.

Maybe it isn't perfect. Maybe it isn't ideal. Maybe it hurts. Maybe it'll never stop hurting. But it can still be beautiful. it still has meaning.

It may just be a silly show about Halo dudes, but it matters.

Tl;dr: Raven is stupidly sentimental right now

[littlefankingdom]

Everytime something happens in France in a comic, I realize how little researches comics writers do. And like, if they are this bad with my western country, how bad it is with third-world countries they talk about???

In Nightwing (2016), Raptor is from a circus that was near Paris during Mary Grayson's childhood, so more than 40 years ago at least.

In this flashback, they accuse the mayor of Paris of having given leprosy to the romani and of keeping away the meds they need. Already, with our healthcare's system, it's hardly possible, as they would be able to go to a hospital to get the help they need. Do they think "public healthcare" means the state has a direct control on medication, because that's not the case at all. The French gov control the money put into medication, how much is bought, but a mayor has no power over this. I just don't understand how something like this could happen. You can totally write a racist medical scandal in France, but makes it make sense with our system.

But also, Paris didn't have a mayor until 1977, so if it's before 1977, impossible. And, Paris' mayor from 1977 to 1995 is JACQUES CHIRAC, who was the PRESIDENT after. They wrote a story implying that a French President kept medications away from sick people, was discovered and was still elected President. And, yes, the French government is far from good and they have deeply harmed the romani, but like, maybe don't write shit like that. (Also, Chirac was really against the war of Iraq, and stood up against the US, which France is still paying the price for to this day. So I don't really like an USAmerican to criticize Chirac. Like, we can do it, others can do it, but not USAmericans, y'all have done enough) I'm pretty sure that wasn't the goal of the writers. No, what happen is that they didn't do researches about Paris' mayor and so, wrote that shit.

This may be inspired by the contaminated blood's scandal in the 80s-90s, which was worst in France, but no mayor was found guilty, it was doctors who knowingly contaminated patients with a deadly illness. And the French government was held accountable, even if they had no hand in it, as a matter of principle.

I understand it's a fiction, and they didn't literally wrote "Chirac did this", but it's kind of clumsy. (Especially because of everything I wrote earlier about Chirac's politics and how the US is still punishing France for being against killing civilians and destroying Iraq. France was doing the right thing, and the US worked so France would go back in line and treat Arabs like shit. Do not think western countries are free from the US' imperialism)

And in no way I'm saying that you cannot write France being awful, I know my gov's crimes (rn, they have deported homeless out of Paris for the Olympics, the President is refusing to acknowledge the left won the elections and to take a leftist prime minister so we have no prime minister since mid July and fuck democracy I guess, they support Israel's crimes against humanity, and are behaving like the colonizers that they are in New-Caledonia, sending the armies against the Kanaks that have not enough power on their own land), I'm just saying it should at least be believable enough to work. (Easiest way: make the cops racist. Boom. Also, French cops talk like vilains, it's insane.) And also, not about someone touchy like clumsily painting badly a president that was punished by the US for doing the right thing.

[vioartemis]

Alone with you

(Tara carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: After your girlfriend of 4 years got brutally attacked at her house, you're willing to do anything to keep her safe, even if it means putting yourself in danger Request here :)) Warnings: blood, injuries, Tamber (one sided) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

You just learnt your girlfriend had been attacked the night before and ran to the hospital to be by her side when she would wake up.

When she opened her eyes, you could say she was relieved to see you next to her.

"Y/n...?"

"Hi baby..."

She started to tear up, lower lip trembling.

"I was so scared..." she sobbed "He- he was wearing a Ghostface costume Y/n... w-what if it's another psycho like the others...?"

You sat on the bed and hugged her, stroking her hair as she cried against you, gripping your shirt tight.

"I'm sorry I wasn't with you... y-you're gonna be okay from now on, I'm here, I'll protect you my love..."

You tried your best to comfort her, and even though you were not the best at it, it was working. She felt safe in your arms, face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Please don't leave me..."

"I won't, I swear. I'm staying here as long as you need me to" you placed a kiss on her head "Do you want me to tell our friends you're awake?"

She shook her head slightly, not letting go of you.

"I'll do it myself, but not now... I want to stay alone with you. Can you lay in bed with me...?"

"Of course"

You took off your shoes and slipped in her bed, taking her back in your arms.

You had no idea who could have attacked your girlfriend, but whoever it was, you were going to make them pay for almost taking her away from you.

Yet you felt that maybe they didn't want to kill her. They could have easily sunk their knife in her throat or in any vital organs for the final blow. But they didn't.

Either it was part of their plan, or they just couldn't.

You hoped it was the first option with your whole heart. Because if it wasn't, it meant the new Ghostface could be one of your friends. Someone that loved Tara so much they couldn't kill her.

If anyone else came to this conclusion, you would be the prime suspect. That's what prevented you from sharing your theory with the police. Your girlfriend doubting you was the last thing you wanted.

After Tara texted Wes around half an hour later, and ten more minutes for them to come here, your friends arrived at the hospital, soon followed by none other than Samantha Carpenter and her boyfriend.

You got out of Tara's bed when your friends arrived, now sitting on a chair right next to her bed, holding her hand.

How many years had it been since you saw Sam for the last time? 5 years? More? It felt like an eternity. She used to babysit Wes, Mindy, Chad and you when you were younger, but you knew her before that, being Tara's friend since forever.

You had always loved her, she was the older sister you never had. Until she left. You never heard of her since that day.

You hoped she had changed and she wouldn't hurt Tara anymore.

"Look guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should give her some space" Amber suggested

Everyone agreed and started to leave.

"Not you Sam. I want you to stay"

You gave a last squeeze to your girlfriend's hand before sitting up too.

"I'll text you and be back later in the day" you said softly

"Wait before you go..."

She beckoned you to lean in, and put her valid hand on the back of your neck, pulling you close to kiss you tenderly.

"I love you" she whispered against your lips

"I love you too baby"

You smiled, giving her a last peck on the lips before standing up, cheeks a little redder than usual. Sam looked shocked but didn't say anything as you walked past her.

Once you left, Tara broke down again in her sister's arms. Like you, Sam tried her best to comfort her, hugging her and patting her back.

She tried to make Tara think of something else.

"How long has it been? Y/n and you"

A smile crept on Tara's face as she heard your name.

"Four years, since freshman year"

Sam could see you made her sister happy. The light in her eyes, this little shiny light couldn't mean anything else. She always thought you would make a great couple.

Out of all of her sister's friends you had always been her favorite. She knew Wes had a crush on Tara back in the days, but she never thought she liked him back. Even then, she only had eyes for you.

"You make a cute couple"

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

"Welcome to act three"

So it was her all along? Her that attacked Tara at her house and at the hospital? Her that almost killed the person you loved the most?

You knew she had a crush on Tara. You saw it in the way she looked at her, even though she denied it. Maybe Amber's feelings were the only thing that saved Tara.

Amber tried to shoot Sam but Tara pushed her arm up, making her miss. Everyone split up, running away from the psycho while she dragged Tara upstairs.

"Y/n-!"

You rushed in the kitchen to grab a knife, before heading upstairs as fast as you could. Amber had a gun, you had to have something to defend yourself.

When you found them, Amber was tying Tara up with duct tape.

"Get the fuck away from her"

The brunette paused for a second before slowly standing up, reaching behind her for her gun.

"I really should've killed you when I could." she groaned, glaring daggers at you

She tried to shoot you but missed. The bullet only brushed your arm, burning your shirt and skin in the process.

You clenched your teeth at the pain but wasted no time and rushed toward her, cutting her wrist with the knife enough to make her drop the gun.

She bent down and held her bleeding wrist against her. You took a step closer, thinking it was safe, but her head jolted up before she launched herself at you.

Taken by surprise, you fell to the ground, knife still in hand. You tried to stab her but she stepped on your wrist, forcing your hand opened, and took the knife.

You scream in pain as she sank the blade into your stomach harshly, positioning herself on top of you. Her slender fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard.

"You really thought you could steal her from me like that huh? She's mine. Has always been. I've waited long enough."

You tried to push her away, but her grip on your throat was cutting your air off, and her weight on you pushed the knife even deeper in your stomach.

You started feeling lightheaded. Was this really how you were going to die? You couldn't do anything, all your strength taken away by the lack of air.

"Fuck you" you managed to say before a vase crashed on her head

She fell to the side, the impact knocking her out. You took a deep breath and coughed when you tried to sit up, the knife still in your stomach.

Tara sat next to you, concern written on her face.

"Are you okay babe...?"

You gave her a thumbs up, still trying to catch your breath. You would definitely have a mark with how hard she was squeezing your throat.

After a moment, you tilted your head up slightly toward the knife.

"Should we take it out?"

"Wouldn't you get hurt more if we don't?"

"I don't know... but right now it prevents me from bleeding too much..."

"Maybe we should take it out. You know, no risk for anyone to twist it while it's still in you"

She wasn't wrong.

"Okay okay, but you're gonna have to do it my love..."

She gulped, looking at the knife with apprehension. She really didn't want to hurt you. But Amber could regain consciousness at any moment, and this time she would kill you.

"I'm going at three okay...?"

She grabbed the handle with her valid hand.

"One, two-" she pulled it out in one swift motion, blood gushing out of your wound

You swore under your breath, fists clenched. Tara was looking for a towel or something to bandage you up when you saw Amber moving in the corner of your eye.

"Shit" you mumbled, sitting up painfully "Tara baby, we need to go, she's waking up"

You got up as quickly as you could while Tara grabbed her crutches, lying next to Amber's bed. You took the knife and the gun with you, hoping Amber would be confused enough not to chase you right after she woke up.

As you went downstairs with Tara, Richie appeared in the hall.

"Where were you? Where's Amber?"

"Upstairs" Tara said "she tried to lock me up in a closet"

Richie's eyes widen when he saw you were bleeding. He got closer to you.

"She stabbed you"

"No shit Sherlock. How did you figured that out?"

When he took one more step closer, you saw something shiny in his hand. But it was to late to back up now, the blade was already sinking in your leg. You hissed in pain, tears in your eyes.

"She's gonna be pissed if I kill you. But don't worry, you're gonna die soon" he smirked at you "Don't even try to save her Tara, you-"

He turned around but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck"

What happened after that was mostly the two of them explaining their plan to you, once you were all gathered into the kitchen - except for Tara - and some more fighting.

At one point, one of them plunged a knife in your back. You were tired of getting stabbed.

The first thing you remembered after that was Amber getting BBQed alive by Gale and Sidney. Deserved, you thought.

Then, the three of you went to the hall where Sam was slicing Richie's throat.

"Careful, they always come back"

Sam took Gale's gun and shot Richie three times. But as you thought it was finished, you heard a scream behind you. Amber was running toward you, knife in hand.

But before she could harm anyone, she was shot in the head.

"That's for stabbing my girlfriend."

Her sweet voice was filled with anger and sadness. You walked toward her, relieved that nothing happened to her, and hugged her tight, not caring if it hurt you.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Months after this night, your wounds had healed, only leaving painless scars. Your throat still hurt sometimes, but never too much. The doctors said it was normal after what Amber did.

"Okay I'm leaving, have fun girls!"

Today was your fifth anniversary, and for the occasion, Sam was leaving for the night, giving you more intimacy. You were almost living with them given the time you spent at their house instead of yours.

This year, you settled for a simple date at home; romantic dinner, Netflix and chill. With the recent events, none of you wanted to go out too much.

You spent the day preparing everything with her, cooking, fighting with the flour, laughing together. That was so much fun, knowing you were not the best cook.

Everything was ready now, you just had to change.

When you finally went to the living room, Tara was lighting up the candles. She was gorgeous. You stared in awe for a minute before she made her way to you and pressed a kiss on your lips.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I- You're gorgeous tonight my love..." you placed your hands on her waist "Breathtaking even"

You could see her blush at your words.

"I could say the same to you babe" now it was your turn to blush, making her lips curl up "Come on, dinner's gonna get cold"

That was clearly not the best dinner you ever had quality speaking, but it was the best because you made it with the girl you loved.

When it was time to get the cake - maybe the best dish you had made this day - you took a small box out of your pocket.

"Before we eat the cake, I'd like to give you something"

You handed her the little box across the table, a wide smile on your face.

"Wait I got you something too" she said

She handed you a little box, almost the same as yours.

"We open it together okay?"

"3, 2, 1..."

You opened the boxes at the same time.

You got her a promise ring, physical symbol of your love for her and that you would be there no matter what.

It took you weeks to find the perfect one, but you found it. The color, the shape, it was the one you imagined. You knew it wasn't that important, but finding a pretty ring was a must to you.

When you opened your gift, you saw... a promise ring. You saw this one when you were looking for hers. It was definitely the one you would have chosen.

You were both speechless, rings in hand, and after a moment you started laughing.

"Looks like we had the same idea" you smiled, putting the ring on while Tara did the same "it's perfect baby"

You got up from your chair, leaning forward to kiss her across the table, entwining your fingers with hers in the process. She smiled against your lips.

"A perfect ring for a perfect girl"

[toournextadventure]

Hiii ! I just came across your writing and I gotta say, I’m really liking it ! Especially the Winclair x reader :) I have a suggestion, Winclair x overly protective Reader, finding out reader injured/killed someone because they said something degrading about Wednesday or Enid, or tried flirting/getting with them. Keep up the great writing :]

Bestie I am ALWAYS down to write a feral, protective reader with Wenclair 😎

stunning, murderous little thing

Enid shouldn’t have been surprised when you walked into the apartment bedroom with a bloody smile and dripping, bloodstained clothes. Your smile wasn’t as sadistic as Wednesday’s, but there was a very specific sense of danger behind it. A sense of danger that, truthfully, only you could really muster.

“Who was it this time?” Wednesday asked without even looking up from her typewriter.

“That punk from Enid’s Econ class,” you said as you tried to lick some dried blood off one of your fangs. “You know, the one that called you a mangy mutt that needed to be muzzled?”

“Is he still breathing?” Enid sighed even though, judging by your current state, she knew the answer anyway.

“He’s not dead,” you said indignantly. “He just wishes he was.” You made the move like you were going to fall on the bed where Enid was laying down.

“Don’t!” Enid shouted. Mid-fall, you missed the bed by only an inch before crashing to the floor.

“The fuck?” You asked as you sat up, rubbing your head with bloodstained hands.

“You are not getting blood on our sheets,” she said with a pointed finger in your chest. “That’ll be the fifth time this month.”

“Sixth,” Wednesday chimed in. “Don’t forget the supposed accident.”

“You guys can’t hold that one against me,” you whined, “it was an accident.” Both women turned to look at you with disbelieving eyes. “He’s the one that ran into my elbow.”

“Go wash off,” Enid demanded, “and maybe I’ll consider letting you back up on the bed.”

“Are you two going to help me?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows in false seduction. It was rather ridiculous.

And yet.

“Come on,” Enid sighed even though she was smiling back at you, “before you stain everything else.”

“You coming, Willa?” You asked when Wednesday still made no move to get up.

“My writing time is not over,” Wednesday said simply, “so no.”

Enid saw the sparkle in your eyes before you made your move. There was no time for her to even attempt to stop you before you stood behind Wednesday, primed and ready. Poor Wednesday didn’t even have time to notice your presence before you rubbed your hands down her cheeks and neck, down her bare shoulders and down to her arms, smearing blood across her skin. Wednesday’s entire body stilled, leaving nothing but silence in the apartment.

“Oh shame,” you mumbled. “It seems you need to clean up now too.”

It was impressive how slowly Wednesday spun her chair around to look up at you. She was also, though Enid would never say it aloud, extremely attractive when covered in blood. The dark red really brought out the brown in her eyes, truly stunning.

"You can keep one hand," Wednesday told you, "which would you prefer?"

"You can take the left," you mused as you held both hands up. "I mean, you both seem to enjoy the right too much to lose it."

Enid could feel a migraine forming when Wednesday lunged at you and you screamed, running off to the shower with her hot on your trail. Enid loved you both, she truly did. But you were going to kill her for sure.

After that night, Enid and Wednesday had given you one rule; no killing anyone unless you had their permission. One would think this wasn't such a difficult rule to follow, but you certainly did your best to find every loophole possible.

"What if I only maim him?" You asked one night while Wednesday pretended to not enjoy being the little spoon.

"Only with good cause,” Wednesday mumbled in her sleepy voice that she pretended not to have.

You hummed in acknowledgment and pulled Wednesday closer, trying to keep your cool when she did her best to snuggle deeper into your arms. When Enid came home, she found the both of you fast asleep yet still leaving room for her on the other side. All she had to do was slide into bed and the both of you instantly reached for her, pulling her into the cuddle pile.

The day of reckoning appeared far faster than Wednesday and Enid had anticipated.

It was just a simple day, you were all walking out of your last class for the week which you thankfully shared, arguing and complaining because Wednesday refused to help you and Enid with the homework. Typical, of course, she always liked to hold this over you both as leverage for cuddles or kisses. A usual Friday, actually, you expected nothing less.

And then it happened.

“Hey Sinclair, Addams.”

They never seemed to call your name, Enid realised as the two frat boys appeared beside you.

“You two busy tonight?” The taller boy standing beside Wednesday asked.

“Extremely,” she answered without looking up. You kept turning your head between both boys and Enid could see the gears turning behind your sunglasses.

“You should come to the party tonight,” the boy beside Enid said. He sounded far more genuine. “We’ll pick you ladies up.”

Enid felt your hand brush against hers as the boys kept talking. It wasn’t the gentle touch you usually gave out freely while walking around campus, but a fist. Oh no, she thought when you ran your tongue over your teeth. More importantly, over your fangs.

“Is this a good enough cause?” You asked; neither of the boys even paid you any attention.

“Yes,” Wednesday said simply.

Oh, your smile was terrifying.

“Hey guys,” you said, finally drawing the boys’ attention, “I got an 8 ball in my bag, want some for your party?”

“Hell yeah,” the taller boy answered quickly.

“Come on, let’s go over here,” you gestured your head toward the alley between campus buildings. The business building; no one would suspect a thing.

They followed you without hesitation, without a single care in their little heads. Enid sighed when Wednesday smirked at their disappearance. She dug her shoe into the dirt, drawing little patterns when she felt Wednesday grab her hand. It helped ease her anxiety just a little bit.

You finally came out from around the building with bloody knuckles and no company.

“I feel much better,” you said with a big smile.

“Still can’t clean up properly,” Wednesday said, wiping her thumb across your lips to erase the small drop of blood.

“Are we finally watching that movie tonight?” You asked as you forced yourself between them, holding each of their hands in yours.

“Only if you make the popcorn,” Enid said.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, sugar,” you said with an even bigger smile and a squeeze of their hands.

Your overprotectiveness was getting worse. Good thing your girlfriends enjoyed it.

[cuddlecow]

Not sure how much of a headcanon this is, but Franco seems to be very jumpy, and kind of nervous while he hunts down the player. Whenever he hears a sound from the player he almost jumps as he turns around, sometimes instinctively firing at the direction of the sound. Not to mention he says things like "My dad send you?" or even just "what the fuck is that?". I personally think the tough act he's had to put on his whole life is out of fear, mostly of his dad. I also saw someone say Franco seems more aware of what is happening to him at Mt Sinyala with Murkoff, even saying a few things directed at the "doctors". I bet he's kind of scared being there, maybe he thinks his dad did it?? Murkoff is definitely getting into his head like with Coyle and Phyllis, also. I wonder how much he is really aware of. Sorry for the angst, I feel so bad for him. He needed love and help, not Murkoff.

Ooh, I can definitely see that! I remember he says the one line where he says his father killed his mother when he addresses the doctors! Also no need to apologize, some angst is always good! Thank you for bringing up some cool points!

Author's Note: I'm going to start doing entries called "Franco For Thought" that are more talk-style headcanons or just going more in depth off of some points others make!

Franco For Thought

Franco for sure has trauma from multiple aspects in life. Growing up in a mafia/mobster family, he's had to be guarded and tough at a young age. I believe he chose to keep his head down and stay quiet or not rebel from his father so he wouldn't be cast out or killed. In the comics they did say that the only reason Franco wasn't killed by his father, Salvatore, was because he was blood related.

Franco almost always shoots in the direction of a sound because if he doesn't shoot to kill, then the other person will. Survivability is definitely a huge thing for him especially since he's such a high ranking member and at any time he could be challenged.

Based off of Franco saying "My dad send you?" I think it would be fair to assume this wouldn't be the first time his father tried to send someone after him to assassinate Franco. He whips around so fast once he hears things.

Franco for sure seems the most aware of the doctors compared to the other prime assets. Perhaps he gets into lots of scuffles with the doctors and threatens them, or perhaps he is a bit passive aggressive with it, muttering under his breath.

I think it'd be interesting to see what goes on in some sort of expop/prime asset common room or their interactions/behaviors when they aren't in the trials!

[kamiko1234]

Alrighty, I just got to the point of Chapter 13 after they talked to Luke and BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS. So , can we talk about how straight up unserious Percy is ? Like you NOTICE that this is a kid. Buddy is out on a mission to basically save the world, going around telling Medusa he and his friends are orphans having been left behind by a circus and sightseeing XD Say what you want but that kid is funny af. Love that for him. The whole Medusa thing was CREPPY tho, like- Grover fr just found what basically is his dead uncle's corpse ???????? That's honestly fucked up. (The Uncle Ferdinand jokes were funny as hell tho) I do hold firm onto the believethat the gods are sort of dicks tho. Like, honestly ? I'm surprised there wasn't a half blood revolution yet ! Those poor children are treated HORRIBLY by their parents ! Not to mention that they also gotta deal with all sorts of monsters just because they are the kids of that one specific god. Ngl if I was a demigod I'd be ready to straight up overthrow the gods. Or atleast sue them for all the child neglect they did. Like, damn there seems to be little to no resentment against the gods on the side of the kids besides Percy. How'd that happen ? Does Camp Halfblood just have really good therapists to deal with all that trauma and to keep the kids from going , idk, crazy ? Or do they just flood them with propaganda ???? Idk, just seems a bit weird to me how everyone seems to like the gods when so far most couldn't care less so far OR are doing the bare minimum. The only thing more surprising to me than the fact that no one hates the gods, is how surprisingly well I can get on with the first-person POV ? Like, I JUST realized that. It's just THAT good. Normally I don't rly like first-person , but honestly this is the biggest expection so far ! Percy's POV is just hilarious. Kinda nervous about his dreams tho, idk what to make of them.......... But also, OMFG GROVER WAS THE GUY WHO BROUGHT ANNABETH. Damn does every character have trauma here ? Poor lad. On the topic of Grover tho, that whole backstory with Pan gives me BIG tingels for my traitor theories. When he went on his little rant about humanity and how they ruined nature, he very clearly called Percy human. He sees Percy as part of a group he seemingly dislikes to atleast some degree.

Grover also has a sort of legacy he thinks he needs to fullfill ? With many (if not all) members of his family having been seekers. Like, what if Pan IS actually dead ? Or atleast in the underworld, and that is why no seeker has ever returned ? Maybe Hades manages to get Grover to betray Percy by offering him Pan ? It is Grover's dream while also being very important to his entier species. It looks like a good motivation for me. Otherwise I rly like the backstory for Grover we have so far. The author did a great job in fleshing him out tbh. He really went from a droky comic-relieve sort of guy to something..... honestly depressing. I really wonder what happened to Pan. But I do think he's most likely dead or somewhere in the underworld, with Hades being the big bad it would think. ANNABETH GOT A HINT TOO THO, during the Luke talk he did mention that you'd have to be invisible to get the Master Bolt. And the Athena Cabin already picked the side against Poseidon when the camp started to splitt. The motivation for her would still stay the same ofcourse, her godly parent. Personally I do still favor Annabeth as traitor, but it could simply be that I just had the theory about her for longer. Honestly both have solid bases for it and I'd be interesting either way. I'm about halfway done now, so I doubt a thrid character will be introduced now to be the traitor. If a new character IS introduced tho, they'd props be the prime suspect for me. But also, thank you Luke for being one of the MOST reliable character in the story so far. Anytime you show off smth good happens for me (either entertainment or more hints for my theory). BUT ALSO HIM CALLING ANNABETH HIS LITTLE SISTER ? ALKQOPÜREINA THAT'S SO CUTE LIKE ????? ugh ngl now I sort of hope it ISN'T Annabeth bc her betraying them would BREAK Luke's heart T-T. Just let them be happy, please. That's all I ask. Let my fav big bro be happy. Please.

[antispopausandstuff]

Romantic Homicide

.

[ synopsis - a rewrite of 'Don't Go' by Nate Stevenson // 'Taking Control' s5 ep 6 ]

.

for a moment, the hero can barely inhale.

those claws, holding onto her so tightly, that she can barely process anything else. not even her own heartbeat.

she wants to let go.

but then Catra would fall deeper.

would that be her fault, too?

after slowed time, Adora finds it in herself to push up onto her feet, adjusts her grip on the woman in her arms, and walks. it's a strange feeling, to be so sluggish and energized at once. adrenaline.

from fear.

she didn't know when they got to the empty room. an extra space.

"...Catra," she breathes, quiet and ragged. a simple command. no, a plea, to let go. the Magicat's ear twitches once, her hold loosening only slightly, but not setting her free.

Adora sets her down on the bed.

the claws stay.

"let go," she says, unable to be as harsh as she wants to be.

all this time, and she's still soft.

when the hands release her, Adora breathes further.

silence continues as clothes are found and water is given. they don't talk. what could be said at this moment that would change anything, ever, at all? what could be forgotten?

"Adora."

the exit is right there. she could leave. she wants to.

yet, she still stops when that voice calls to her. for her.

looking over her shoulder, blue and yellow eyes stare right at her, something like guilt trapped within them. one that couldn't be trusted, after all these years of pain and suffering, of blood and an unforgiving darkness. one that grew and grew until no room was left.

guarded, Adora slowly turns. "what is it?" she asks, neutral and distant. the distance that was always there protruding and showing itself out in the open without spilling.

the Magicat shifts in her spot.

"i..." a swallow. nerves. "why did you come back?"

come back.

is that how she viewed it?

"why did you come back? we both know i don't matter."

"i can't let you die here."

at the time, thoughts were messy and looking deeper could've cost more than it was going to be worth.

but now...

with bated breath, she stands straight and forward. "i didn't," she replies, states, blunt, direct, and impersonal. as it should've been.

silence hangs over once more.

and she leaves.

.

when she comes to ( from what, she doesn't know ), a hand is on her shoulder, calloused, chipped, bruised, yet gentle and inviting.

Bow.

"you were spacing out again," he explains, lowering his hand to hers as worry settles in his eyes. "is it... Catra?" he asks next, though he sounds expectant.

of course he is.

Adora breathes again. without a word, she nods, and the archer sits by her, hand at her waist as he pulls her into an embrace. she wraps an arm around him in turn, head on his shoulder.

she was exhausted.

.

it was hard, to care for someone you wanted to stay away from.

to hold back against someone who shouted at you.

to keep the words "of course i hate you" in your throat.

she didn't lie, but she wasn't able to speak the truth, either.

all the hero could do was walk away.

"i'm such an idiot."

.

talking to Glimmer was hard.

less difficult than Catra, more difficult than Bow.

but she had to do it. she had to.

"...why was she so nice to you?"

it was a selfish question. she knew that.

but the Queen's eyes showed sympathy anyway.

Glimmer had spoken of her time with Catra on Horde Prime's ship. said she wasn't so terrible, for a time, and even listened to her every now and then until she just... suddenly saved 'her'.

and Adora couldn't help but feel...

envious?

logically, she knew Catra was only out for herself at that time ( maybe all the time ), but it still hurt, somehow, to hear that she was different, if it was only for a time.

why couldn't she be different for me?

"you're such an idiot."

"i think she just wanted to feel better about herself. in a weird, self-pitying way," Glimmer answers.

that was the only answer possible.

because Catra couldn't have wanted more than the power she was given, now could she?

"don't you get it?! i am NEVER going to go with you!"

a hand. warm, almost hot, through the fabric of her jacket, seeping into the skin of her shoulder. "Adora," the Queen called out, bringing her back to the world around them.

for now, reality was kind and bittersweet.

.

Catra's claws were bared.

in the next instance, that hand was pinned to the wall, the grip over it almost vice. the claws didn't go away.

Adora could barely hear the voices around her.

with furrowed brows, her chest heavy, she slowly let go and took steps back. "we're doing this," she declares, unforgiving. "and if hiding from the people you've almost killed will make you feel better, we'll drop you off and you never have to see us again!"

silence.

taking a deep breath, she slowly turns away. "i'll never have to see you again," she mutters, walking across the unstable ground.

but, before she could escape, that damned hand grabbed her wrist.

"Adora, wait!"

looking down, the Magicat was on her knees.

the hand dragged down until it wrapped around the hero's palm, keeping her there.

"please."

a skip. nerves bundled in her gut, an urge in her throat.

let go of me.

those blue and yellow eyes showed themselves.

"stay."

...and she did.

.

it was nightfall, according to Entrapta.

regardless, everyone was exhausted and wanted to sleep.

but Catra didn't want her to go.

sitting on the mattress, Adora fiddled with her necklace. somewhere along the way, the sword transformed itself. maybe it was the anxiety of everything, of Catra being here, right behind her.

the answers were unclear.

many seem to be nowadays.

the voice cut through her thoughts, low, almost rough. she didn't fully hear what was said, but she knew well enough.

everything suddenly felt more closed in.

slowly, rigidly, Adora shifted her position, laying down on her side, only leg in contact with the floor with the other on the mattress. she was facing away.

she didn't want the covers.

the ship was silent.

and the hero didn't sleep.

just listened to the Magicat's breathing turn to snores and hope she didn't wake up to need her again.

[spooky-bunnys]

Part 2 for south

So since plan a failed he decides to go with plan b buying the perfect apology gift

Little does he know the reader is out minding he’s business maybe doing some shopping for himself and the reader crosses paths with imma say is an gang enemy of south’s gang (if that makes any senses) and before the gang member can land a hit on the reader he’s immediately taken down by south with just one punch (since he is strong and unrelated note he’s like 7 feet tall)

Teehee~ Enjoy!!!

Just a friend

Part 2

South was extremely frustrated. It's been over a week and (Name) still hasn't come back to him. After his failed attempt to serenade him. He figured since plan A failed he'll go for plan B. Apology gift. So here he was. Walking down the street. Looking for a gift for (Name).

He knew he should've asked Kakucho or one of the brothers on what to get for (Name). But the trio has been hanging around (Name) more then they used to. Honestly it was upsetting, thinking about how okay (Name) was without him. Not that he'd tell anyone but....he missed (Name). He missed the cuddles. The way (Name) hung off him. The way (Name) always called him those disgustingly cute pet names.

South groaned loudly. He always swore that he'd never get attached. He swore he'd never fall in love. After everything that happened he never wanted to rely on anyone. But here he was attached, in love, and relying on someone. It was official. He needed his (Name) back. South ran a hand down his face and sighed.

This love stuff is harder then he was hoping for. South walked into a random store and started looking around. He noticed there was manga on the shelf. He perked up. (Name) loved manga. He was always carrying one in his school bag. South smiled faintly. He remembers last time they cuddled. (Name) was reading the newest manga he had. He wouldn't stop talking about how the couple reminded him of them.

The smaller guy was always getting in trouble and the bigger one would always save him. (Name) used to call him his knight in blond armor. South chuckled sourly. He missed those times. When South gets him back he won't let him go again...well if he gets him back. South frowned. No. He was getting (Name) back. He wouldn't stop until he does.

South shook his head. Skimming through different Mangas trying to find one (Name) would like. He stopped when he heard arguing. He rolled his eyes. It wasn't any of his business. He went to walk away until he heard a voice he knew. Very well. "Dude literally let me go!" (Name). "No way. This is a prime moment. South's bitch by himself. Without his guard dogs. I can't pass that up."

Oh hell no. Absolutely fucking not happening. South stomped towards the voices. Nobody puts their hands on his boyfriend and survives. Calling him a bitch? It'll be a quick death. When South arrive he realized three things. One, (Name)'s lip was busted, bruises everywhere, blood running down his face. Two, a busted pipe and guys surrounding the two. Finally, the guys surrounding and holding him were from a rival gang that South didn't even try to remember.

South slowly marched his way towards the arguing duo. Not only did they call him a bitch, grabbed him, but they made him Bleed? Oh. South smirked evily. This was gonna be fun. When he made his way behind the gang member, the guy stopped. (Name) looked over the guys shoulder and smiled brightly. South gripped the back of the guys neck. His grip was tight. Making sure he wouldn't get away.

"What. Did. You. Call. Him?" South's hold got tighter. The guys began struggling. Releasing (Name)'s wrist letting him back away. Rubbing the place (Name) knew would bruise. Well. (Name) looked over himself. He was gonna be covered in bruises anyways. He looked up when he heard a heavy thud. South had his knee dug in the guys back. His grip on the guys neck still tight.

South frowned deeply. "So let me get this straight. You tried jumping my (Name). Then when he kicked your ass, you tried playing dirty. Then you call him a bitch?" (Name) slowly made his way over and laid his head on South shoulder. South leaned back a little. Giving (Name) a better placing for his head. He knew it was probably hurting him badly.

He could feel the blood seeping into his shirt. When he tried to readjust again he felt (Name) flinch. Oh these guys were dead. Without taking his eyes off the guy under him, he pulled out his phone dialing Kakucho. When he picked up South didn't let him talk. "I need you and the Haitani Brothers to come to (manga store). Also tell Ran to bring (Name)'s pack and a first aid kit." South looked over at (Name) seeing how droopy his eyes are.

"Scratch the first aid kit. Just get here quick." He ended the call and held the phone behind him. "(Name)? I know you want to sleep but I need you awake and to call your brothers okay?" He barely felt (Name) nod when his phone was taken out of his hand. He heard clicking before ringing. He heard a voice before his phone hit the floor. South felt (Name)'s body get heavy and knew he'd passed out.

Clicking his tongue in anger. South grabbed his phone putting it to his ear. "Which twin am I speaking to?" "Hey! What the fuck are you doing calling me?!" He knew this was the smiling twin. "Listen. (Name) was jumped by an enemy gang at his favorite manga store. I don't know his exact injuries but I know he has a blow to the head from a pipe." He heard silence on the other end. "Hello?" "YOU MOTHER FUCKER! IF HE HAS ANY BRAIN DAMAGE I'M KILLING YOU NEXT!" The call cut out.

South felt a shiver go down his spine. Now he knows where (Name) got his temper. Few moments later he heard a dig from the front with multiple fast moving foot steps. Kakucho, the Haitani brothers, and the Kawata twins froze at the scene before quickly getting into action. The twin immediately made their way to their brother. Checking him over while the other three made their way to South. Anger written on their faces.

The brothers started tying the members up while Kakucho tied the leader up. Still being kneed by South. When they were tied up Ran called the rest of the gang about collecting the gang that was tied up. South looked behind him at the twins. He saw worry all over their faces. "I can take him to the hospital." Their head snapped to South. Worry replaced by anger. They blamed him. He knew they did

The angry faced twin got (Name) on his back before making his way out of the store quickly. The usually smiling on stayed. "We'll take him and...." He sighed lookin down before looking back at South. "And I'll let you know what they say and what room he's in once it's settled." South rose a brow confused. They'd let him see (Name). "It's only because you saved him. What happens afterwards is all (Name)." The other twin quickly made his way after his brothers.

South looked at the trio behind him. "Do what you want with them." The brothers smirked. "But" they frowned. "Him." South pointed at the leader who was gagged and glaring hatefully at them. "He's mine to deal with." The trio nodded and soon members started showing to take the rival gang to the hideout. They avoided looking at their leader. Already knowing how upset he is. South frowned and looked around him before noticing a book on the floor.

It was the next manga book in the series (Name) was reading. South picked it up and paid for it before making his way to his bike. He heard the others behind him but paid no mind to them. He sat on his bike for a while before his phone buzzed. It was a text from some number with an address and a three digit number on it. He knew that address. It was the hospital down the road from (Name)'s house.

South looked at the members behind him and nodded before speeding off towards the hospital. When he arrived he parked his bike turning it off and getting off in a speed he didn't know he had. Making his way inside South ignored everything around him. His sight laid on the elevator. He opened is phone looking at the numbers before clicking a floor. He put his phone away staring forward.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. The saying kept repeating in South's head the whole elevator ride. Once the doors opened again he made his way to the room (Name) was in. Once again ignoring everything around him. All he cared about was making sure (Name) was okay. He can't explain the relief he felt when he made his way into the room. (Name) was awake softly talking to his brothers.

Bandages wrapped around him. The thickest bandages were wrapped around his chest and head. South quickly made his way to the side of (Name)'s bed. When (Name) saw him his face brighten. He looked so happy to see him. "Hey babe." South felt his shoulders drop. That's what he's been waiting for. That damn pet name. South smiled softly and kissed (Name)'s temple.

(Name) winced since that's where the pipe hit him. South quietly apologized and kissed the top of his head. "What's the damage?" The peach haired brother interrupted. "He has a concussion. A broken rib. Two fractured ribs and sprung right wrist." South nodded. Okay. Could've been worse. Could've been WAY worse. But his (Name) is okay. South slowly sat on the side on the bed. (Name) scooted making room for him.

The twins watched the interaction. They shared a look. South had two stikes. If he made a third strike? Smiley popped his neck. Angry cracked his knuckles. (Name) looked over at the two from his spot cuddled in South's side confused. His brothers brushed him off. Gave their own soft smiles and (Name) shrugged. Snuggling back into South's side releasing a breath.

Bonus:

"Am I still just a friend?"

*WHACK*

"Ow! Sorry...."

[lunarbreaksblog]

Note: I got kinda confused about who was going to react so I choose the bots if that's alright! Hope you enjoy

Note 2: Ratchet and Pharma use to be a thing lol as well mention of DJD

How Tfp! Bots would react to an innocent looking psychopath

Optimus prime

Is friendly at first to you since all neutrals are still good in his eyes. He understands why you don't want to be part of the war

Then... He looks closer at you.

You seem innocent and naive, something that he craves for bots to have. To be blissfully unaware of the war.

But how you optics don't really show your feelings, how you seem like your movement is planned and how your smile never seems genuine if he looks closer at you.

Something is wrong with you.

He brushes it off, in hopes that maybe you've gone through something and need some time to decompress into your normal self.

That's until the team catches you absolutely slaughtering the Vehicons in an emergency mine.

Blue luminous blood splattered on the Rocky walls, intestines and guts seemingly are hanging on the walls. Looking like a grotesque party. Your in the middle, laughing away as you continue punching a Vehicons helm. Their helm already a bloodly mess of wires and metal with no recognizable shape.

He's horrified

Without thought but the need to protect his autobots, he shoots you. And he shoots again, again and again.

Some hitting you, some missing but with a hiss, he has your attention.

You smile and wave.

Instantly you transform and run off.

Arcee

Did not at all like you not because your a neutral, well... That was one thing. But anyway, she like Optimus saw something wasn't quite right with your body language.

You remind her of arachnid, she wonders if you two having connection after the incident. She'd never seen Prime just shoot first and ask questions later.

Will probably kill you on sight now

Bumblebee

Was so friendly to you since he didn't have enough experience in perceiving body language or subtle statements. He was quite easy for you to persuade.

Absolutely horrified by you know, he'll probably have nightmares about the murder scene he saw for eons.

Has to explain to the kids that you quite literally worse than the Decepticons and if you are spotted to come comm the team.

Ratchet

Just like Bee know, he's going to become a helicopter parent to the kids. Hes just so paranoid of new people now. He let you in. He thought he maybe had a chance with you. That you're so kind to him.

He should've known better than to trust a neutral!

He's reminded of the DJD, sparkeaters and even his ex, Pharma.

He shivers at the list of atrocities he has seen.

Bulkhead

That was a surprise to him, he didn't really see it coming. He thought you were quite innocent.

Oh, how you played him like a professional you are.

How close you got to Miko, tugs at his spark. How you were so close to extinguishing the one of the last wreckers he knew, so know he guards Miko and the rest of the kids. Just like Ratchet but much worse now.

Bee will tell the kids not to do something, while Ratchet with micro manage them and Bulkhead will simply try to persuade them not do something

Basically your are either murderous to the killer or you become helicopter parent of the kiddies lol

Feel free to request!

[multiisketch]

Multi's Ramblings: Sonic 3 and Robot Lackeys

Every version of Eggman likes to have his own lackeys. SATAM had Snively for a time. Sonic Underground had Sleet and Dingo. TAoStH gave us Scratch, Grounder, and Coconuts. Sonic X gave us Decoe, Bocoe, and Bokkun. Sonic Unleashed and Colors gave us Orbot and Cubot (my personal favorites). Last but not least, the Sonic Movies gave us Agent Stone.

The stand-outs from this list are, of course, Orbot and Cubot. Since their formal establishment in Colors they've basically been beside every version of Eggman since. They even got to appear in Sonic Prime! Which is great! I love these funky robots. They'd fit right in at Aperture Science when you think about it. That's how funky and personable they are. They're dynamic with Eggman is especially great. Devious and apathetic to a fault unless a fire is lit under them. Truly a corporate boss/employee relationship.

Side note: Scratch and Grounder used to have this gag in TAoStH where Scratch say something like, "I dunno, Dr. Robotnik he's being pretty disingenuous." And then Grounder would go, "Yeah! And he's not telling you the truth, either!" Orbot and Cubot do this, too! And I don't think it's far-off to say Orbot's design was inspired by Decoe and Bocoe. Perhaps even Orbot's sassy attitude was taken from Snively?

Anyhoo, my point is these guys are great. They have all the best bits of previous lackeys in orb and cube form. Which is also why I think I've really missed having them in the movie franchise...

Now, Stone is great, too, don't get me wrong. His dedication to Dr. Robotnik reminds me a lot of Dr. Starline from the IDW comics. His attitude and style there-in as well. He obviously actually likes Robotnik unlike other lackeys and I don't see him pulling a betrayal anytime soon--no matter how poorly Robotnik treats him. He's in too deep. If anything, he might grow jaded with time. Perhaps become a bit more sassy in his responses, lazy, and--

Hey, wait a minute.

That... That kind of sounds like Orbot...

NOW HEAR ME OUT--

Robotnik loves robots. He loves them more than people. He's said so--directly to Stone--in the first movie. And, you know, with Sonic 3 raising the stakes and everything; Robotnik reconnecting with Gerald, his FAMILY, maybe he might begin to see the value in a certain lackey he's been mistreating so much.

Maybe a certain lackey might sacrifice himself for the good old Doc-Nik.

MAYBE a certain Eggheaded mad-scientist realizes, oh in the very last seconds--reaching out desperately for some vaguely pebble-shaped piece to hold onto--that he can't live without said lackey. But now that lackey is gone. For good.

So... what is this Eggheaded mad-scientist to do?

Well... what he does best.

He builds a robot.

He won't call it "Stone", no. He won't admit that he cared. It's just a robot, after all.

But he'll give it his voice and his mannerism. He'll make sure it knows how to brew coffee and take belittlement with a not-at-all chipper, but satisfied, "Yessir." Maybe he'll even build it a buddy so it won't follow him around like a lost puppy all the time. Someone to be a better friend to him than Robotnik could ever be. And this other robot has to be stupid because that way he can know what it's like to have his own puppy.

And, oh yes, he'll blame Sonic for everything. It's Sonic's fault, somehow, that all this happened. He wouldn't have gotten attached to him if it wasn't for Sonic. GUN wouldn't have been poking their noses where it didn't belong if it wasn't for Sonic. He wouldn't have... well, Sonic will pay soon enough.

Forget blood family, forget men, forget hedgehogs. More robots... that's what he needs.

They're better than people after all.

[emeritus-fuckers]

“Cirice” ♡ Terzo x afab!Reader oneshot (yandere)

Based loosely on the song "Cirice" by Ghost.

CW: gender neutral afab reader. reader and Terzo have a significant age gap. mentions of blood, death and murder. mention of rituals. mentions of sex and masturbation. yandere themes. religious themes. mentions of religious trauma. hints of abuse. manipulations. questionable consent. Terzo's kinda delusional in this. reader is sort of pressured into becoming his spouse and prime mover. depending on the reader, it might kinda make Terzo into mpreg. Primo's an accomplice, but he has good intentions. it's not as good as the first one, tbh.

i. i can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

i can see through the scars inside you

It was not uncommon for people to join the Clergy not because they were actual Satanists, but because they had no other choice. People chased away from homes, abandoned by their friends and families. People who were abused, who had to run away and had nowhere else to go. The Ministry loved the strays. Especially strays like you. Young and impressionable.

When he first saw you, he got curious. He knew you weren't enthusiastic about your new clothes, the uniform received as a Sibling of Sin. You seemed uncomfortable with it. Uncomfortable with your situation. But you also clinged to those who showed you kindness. You were seeking guidance, like a little puppy who would follow anyone in hopes they'd become its new owner.

He wasn't the one to accept you into the Clergy, Primo was. That alone could quite possibly be considered a sign. His oldest brother had a gift for bringing in poor, lost souls. Ones that had nowhere else to turn. Even if he seemed scary at first, he just had this caring aura that made people flock to him like baby ducks to their mother.

And it did seem like you were quite comfortable helping around the garden, even if you didn't do much. It was probably the only time of day you would smile. Terzo was a busy man since he became Papa Emeritus III, so he couldn't watch you all the time, no matter how much he would like to. But if there was one man he could trust with you, it was most definitely Primo.

Maybe it was a bit stupid to already claim you like this, to view you as something for him to observe. You were like a little trinket for him, something to watch and admire. Such a young person, you probably got out of high school just a few years ago, definitely not old enough to be out of university yet. Did you not go to university? You seemed really bright, you grasped everything Primo was teaching you very easily, why wouldn't you go?

He was curious. He wanted to know more about you, to know you. He started visiting the garden more often, listening in on conversations with the few Siblings of Sin you were friendly with despite your shy nature. He would ask the Siblings about you afterwards, making them swear to keep the conversation secret, one of his Ghouls lurking just in the corner of the Sibling's eye. He would ask Primo about you, genuine concern in his voice.

And Primo, believing his brother's good intentions, told him all he knew, even if it wasn't much. You didn't open up easily, and even if you did, you still spoke very little about yourself. All he got to know is that you were hurt and then shunned by your family "in the name of God". That you were on your own before Primo himself bumped into you while on a private errand outside the Ministry and offered you help, slowly becoming the only person you trusted enough to actually talk to about your issues, even if you only scratched them on the very basic level.

It infuriated him, knowing so little about you. But it also made him protective over you. After all, the Ministry may not be the terrible place others claim it to be, but there were still some bullies around, like in most environments. And you were so cute, so lovely, so innocent, you needed to be taken care of and protected. You needed someone. You needed him.

He kept an eye on you, even if he was away. He worked with many Ghouls, after all. Some of them went on tours with him, some stayed. And the ones who stayed had a mission. They were supposed to take care of you, to observe you while remaining just out of sight. After all, such a sweet, innocent person should never get hurt.

It broke his heart that someone has hurt you before. That some of the innocence and kindness you had was taken advantage off. Was that why you were so shy? Because someone hurt you? Oh, if only he was there to protect you back then...

Well, he was here now. Like a Guardian Angel. Or Guardian Demon, perhaps. That didn't matter. What mattered is that you needed him to be there for you. To love you. To protect you. To never let you get hurt again.

ii. now there is nothing between us

from now out merge is eternal

Whenever he would see you, he just further believed that you were made for him. A gift from the Dark Lord, no doubt. It was a shame that you had to be hurt to meet him, but such was fate. In the end, all that matters is the solution, isn't it?

Terzo never had difficulties when it came to wooing people, making them swoon. He was adorable as a little boy, he was charming as a young man and he was charismatic now, even in his fifties. Once he finally spoke to you, you were his.

It started slow, he didn't want to overwhelm you. He just joined in on a conversation between you and a fellow Sibling of Sin. You were talking about how uncomfortable the uniforms were in the summer and he joked that the Papal robes were even worse. He let the conversation flow naturally, trying his best to pay equal attention to both you and the other Sibling. He'd hate to make you think he was creepy.

No, no, he wanted to be approachable to you. He wanted to make himself a pleasant companion, a man you would trust with all your thoughts, secrets and feelings. He longed to be yours and wanted you to yearn to be his.

The other Sibling had to leave after a few minutes, which may or may not have had something to with a Ghoul glaring at then from the distance. You were clearly anxious to speak one-on-one with him. And he understood. He was still a stranger to you. But he broke the eyes, and despite your nervousness, you seemed to genuinely enjoy the conversation. You probably weren't even anxious at all, were you? No, you were definitely not anxious, you were too much of a sweetheart. You knew his position and probably wanted to hide your feelings for him, didn't you? You didn't want to get in trouble for having a crush on him.

When he first got to touch you, he felt good. Incredibly good. Even if he only touched your clothing and didn't feel much because of his glove. But he touched you. It was enough for him to fantasize in his bed at night, as he touched himself with your sweet face in his mind. Oh, he wanted you so badly. He wanted your hand around his cock instead of his own. He wanted your mouth on it, he wanted to see you gag on his length and hopelessly look at him, unsure of what to do to please him. He wanted to bury himself deep inside you, to comfort you as you adjusted to his size, to the slightly painful, yet wonderful stretching. He wanted you beside him, on top of him, underneath him, that doesn't matter. He just wanted you.

And as luck would have it, he got the opportunity to have you to himself. His father and Sister Imperator have been whining to him and Secondo about children to ensure the bloodline would continue. They insisted on a Prime Mover for months now. Terzo would usually ignore their nagging. He wanted to have a family one day, yes, but bringing a child to the Ministry didn't seem like a great idea. After all, even with all the effort Primo put, Terzo's childhood was far from perfect. So if he were to have a Prime Mover, he wanted someone he could marry and keep by his side. He wanted his future babies to have both parents.

And then he found you, the so sweet and innocent object of his obsession. You were so young, too. You could probably give him many children, couldn't you? Yes, yes, of course you could. And you'd look so good, so beautiful, so sweet with his children growing inside you. You'd be such a good parent to them, nursing them with all the love and affection you had.

And so the next time the subject of Prime Mover was brought up, instead of rolling his eyes and groaning in frustration, he gleefully explained that he already had a candidate in mind but that he wants to marry them as soon as the pregnancy is confirmed. Worried about the bloodline, Nihil agreed.

You only spoke a few times before, so when Terzo walked up to you in the garden later that same day, you didn't expect him to ask you to have his children as his Prime Mover. You thought he'd ask about your day, maybe have some small talk with you about the garden, but instead he dropped that onto you.

You tried your best not to freak out as you asked him to let you think about it. He agreed, of course and you ended up asking Primo for advice. Little did you know Terzo already spoke to him and almost begged his brother to help him convince you to say yes.

"It's just... I barely know him and... I don't understand why he'd want that..." You explained quietly as the oldest Emeritus brother poured you a cup of tea.

"I understand him very well, my child." Primo smiled softly at you, sitting next to you. You looked up at him, hoping he'd explain more. And explain more he did.

He told you about his life, how he never could count on his father's love and his mother was nowhere to be found. How he practically raised himself and then his brothers. He talked about how Terzo was as a child and how he confided in him that he hoped he'd have a baby someday so he can be a good dad, unlike their father.

He told you that behind his on-stage persona that he implemented to his life off stage, Terzo was lonely and depressed, only having his brothers and Ghouls to help him. And you felt bad for him, you really did. But as Primo explained, if you were just his Prime Mover, you'd have to leave him and the child. But after hearing everything he said, your soft, kind heart wanted to help. You asked if there was a way you could help, a way you could make his brother feel better.

It was Primo who suggested you marry his brother. And despite your hesitation, you decided to ask Terzo about it. To offer to bear his children if you got to stay in their lives. If you got to stay in his life. You didn't love him, at least not yet, but you knew how it felt to be hurt. And you wanted to help him. Which, to Terzo, was a love confession. After all, you wanted to marry him without him bringing it up to you.

And so a few days later, during a ritual, he got to have you. He got to touch you, he got to be inside you, to comfort you while muttering prayers to Lucifer. You were scared, vulnerable, but you were his. He finally got to lose himself inside you, to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He didn't care about people watching the ritual, he didn't care about the ritual itself. Only she sweet feeling of your walls squeezing him and your nails scratching his back as you clinged to him, seeking comfort in the bizarre situation you were in.

You were finally all his. Your body was his, your mind, your heart, your soul... Lucifer blessed him with you, he knew he Lucifer would bless him again, making you pregnant with his children. And he couldn't wait for that to be confirmed so you can be his on every way possible.

iii. can't you see that you're lost?

can't you see that you're lost without me?

Terzo was a good husband to you. Treated you like royalty, always happy to help you with your pregnancy or anything you may need assistance with.

He was a loving, caring husband, doing his best to always be there for you, kissing you and your growing stomach. He would always speak to your baby so fondly. His gaze and words were always so kind, so warm.

But he was also a jealous and possessive husband, even if you never really felt that yourself. He would handpick people allowed to visit you while you remained in bed (because he insisted you should rest while carrying his baby) and he would never leave you alone with them, always squeezing you hand protectively.

He was also a very dangerous, controlling husband, even if you never realized that. You were so young, so innocent, so naive... He needed to protect you, using all his power as Papa and his Ghouls to keep away the people he wanted away from you, either with a warning or a permission to his Ghouls to have fun hunting the miserable bastards who tried to get too close.

He was subtle, though. He would mutter to you as he rubbed your head and stomach at nights, with your sweet, innocent self half-asleep. He would remind you how much he loves you, how much he adores you. How hard he tried to keep you and your baby safe. How happy he was that you were his wife. And among all the praises and love confessions, he would whisper that if not for him, you'd be completely lost. He would slowly talk more and more about how he was the only to love and protect you. How you depended on him.

And by the time you had your baby, you believed him. You'd cling to him, your baby in your arms as he'd kiss your hair and coo at the child. He wanted another one as soon as you'd be willing to give him one. And you were very willing to give him a baby, completely enamoured by him.

Oh, how sweet and innocent you were... And all his.

You were all his.

[yanderes-galore]

can i request a concept for my main man dreadwing (transformers prime)?

Sure! I'll try to keep it general. I haven't entirely finished season 2 but I hope I keep things accurate! Sorry for the long wait :) Sorry if this is OOC, I wasn't sure what type of darling to focus on and I don't entirely like the yandere type I picked for him. In the future I may try to focus on one type of darling as I feel he acts different with each one.

Yandere! TF:P! Dreadwing Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Human/Cybertronian or Cybertronian/Cybertronian, Obsession, Violence, Sabotage, Manipulation, Dubious companionship, Attempted murder, Kidnapping, Implied jealousy/Possessive behavior.

Despite technically being allied with Decepticons, Dreadwing is a Cybertronian who is capable of thinking for myself.

He originally came to Earth with the intention of confirming his brother's death.

As a result he sided with Megatron to gain revenge.

I'll try to keep darling as neutral as I can, but I will mention Autobot, Decepticon, and Human Darling differences.

Dreadwing is depicted as an Anti-Hero character.

He works with others yet it's usually to his benefit somehow.

Obviously he'd get along the fastest with a Decepticon darling.

You'd be on the same side and it's just less of a hassle.

Dreadwing is a mech of loyalty, becoming attached to a Decepticon would not brand him some sort of traitor.

A more difficult darling for him to obtain would be a human darling.

Humans are so easy to capture and he'd have to catch/work with you for a reason.

You could have info on Autobots... or you are willing to work with Decepticons in some way.

That or maybe somehow you caught Dreadwing's eye by chance and are not involved with either party. Perhaps you fixed him out of naive kindness, proving you understand his biology somehow.

Those are some examples of how he'd take to a human darling, which also doesn't count as treachery.

Then there's the hardest darling for him to be obsessed with, an Autobot.

A connection to you counts as treachery and the whole obsession would result in an enemies-to-lovers situation.

First he'd try to kill you... then he tries to consider something other than violence between you.

That's the rarest darling for him to have yet it's possible.

Let's talk type of yandere....

Dreadwing is Loyal, Manipulative, Clever, Obsessive, Slightly possessive, Calculating, yet Cruel in his tactics like most Decepticons even if he doesn't fully agree on their agenda.

Dreadwing plans and considers all options in battle and the same can be said about him within his obsession.

He plans how to keep you trusting him and is very tactical in executing plans.

He's very smart with his obsession, be it kidnapping, sabotage, or simply keeping your loyalty.

As a result he can be scary as a yandere, mostly to other people.

Dreadwing, like his loyalty to Megatron, can respect and show loyalty to his darling once his obsession fully settles in his processors.

If you're a Decepticon it's expected.

Although he keeps his loyalty/care about you if you're a human or Autobot as a secret.

Dreadwing may not agree with Megatron's ideals nowadays, but he has to go along with it.

You're important to Dreadwing as his obsession, he holds respect for you and couldn't go against you all the way due to this.

Dreadwing, like most Decepticons, can be manipulative.

Some are better at it than him, yet he knows it just enough to fool his darling at times.

Everything he does during his obsession is carefully planned.

He plans on how to get you alone, how to deal with rivals, and he doesn't mind how much blood or Energon he has to spill to do it.

He's used to being sent as a hitman anyways.

Most of his obsession would be him planning.

If he wants to get rid of someone around you he places bombs with precision.

I'd imagine if he wanted to get an Autobot away from you, or another Decepticon, then he'd set up a plan to lure them and scrap them.

If you have human friends he could get rid of them if he felt they were a threat.

He'd probably ignore them if they weren't.

Dreadwing doesn't really plan out any sort of future with his darling.

He just plans on how to obtain you then goes from there. Although, depending on the darling, he has a general idea of it.

He'd kidnap, it's easier if you're human.

A Decepticon darling, if you trust him, doesn't need to be captured.

With a human he can trap you in his cockpit as a jet.

Autobot darling would require a bit more effort to catch....

More firepower, too.

Dreadwing is cruel due to how he dispatches those close to you.

He uses heavy weaponry and often uses explosives.

He doesn't care too much if you see the chaos he caused happen.

Dreadwing tries to show you care once he has you in his grasp.

With a Decepticon darling he tries to ease you into the idea of being partners.

Him and Skyquake used to be partners, he uses that as an excuse to encourage you to accept his offer.

You'd listen and work with him, a loyal Decepticon, right?

With a human he treats you like a pet.

After all, Decepticons refer to you fleshies as pets at times.

You're small enough to fit on their shoulder and the servos in their hands.

He could carry you everywhere and you couldn't complain.

After all... he knows you'll need him in the end.

He's powerful, he plans well, trust him... no one's coming after you with him here.

With an Autobot darling he'd kidnap you then convince Megatron he'd interrogate you himself instead of Knock Out.

He'll go easy on you since he likes you so much... but he'd never let you go.

Dreadwing isn't the most affectionate mech but he tries to give you comfort.

The most significant thing I can think of for his obsession is the lengths Dreadwing would go to keep you with him.

I'm talking death traps.

Dreadwing is good at outsmarting others.

He shows respect to those who deserve it, yet if someone tries to take you away from him?

Boom.

He doesn't care who they are or if it's treachery or not.

They won't be moving if they try to take you.

Dreadwing doesn't mind offlining those who who disagree with his choice of obsession.

You should only be concerned with him, no one else.

I wouldn't say Dreadwing is a very physically affectionate yandere.

He's more verbal.

Which works for him as he is someone who builds relationships on respect in some way, regardless of side.

He'd tell you he cares for you regardless on the type of attraction and does everything in his power to keep you at least healthy beside him.

Even if you aren't happy with the arrangements.

Overall, Dreadwing can be a menacing and intimidating yandere due to how efficient he is in his craft.

Those trying to seperate him from his darling should watch their step...

It may be their last if they continue to pursue you, Cybertronian or not.