#so that they wouldn’t be lonely and victimized by their strength like he was

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

I won’t start doomposting yet….but Gojo and Sukuna wasn’t just a clash of the strongest but also two opposing world views in a way. But now we have the prospect of Sukuna’s being validated and Gojo being the victim of that, which is erm…..

[sidsinning]

Thinking About Gojo

Thing that’s so sad about Gojo is every time he’s fucked up it’s bc of his humanity- giving Amanai more time to relax as a normal girl made him use his abilities beyond his limit letting Toji gain the upper hand, letting Geto go without killing him after his first massacre, having Geto’s corpse stolen by Kenjaku bc he didn’t cremate him out of respect, being sealed in Shibuya bc of the shock of his best friend appearing in front of him, not sacrificing the human crowd to kill all the special grades immediately- and he blames himself every time it happens and always tries to make up for it, takes responsibility for all of it- bc he HAS to as “The Strongest”

But at the same time, his humanity is what defines the best parts of him in the first place- what’s the point of his strength if not for his friends and students? He would be leading a meaningless empty existence, much like Toji when he met him. Toji was unstoppable (“the one who cast it all aside”) bc all he was focused on was fighting and winning to the best of his ability, holding nothing back no matter how guilty or innocent his victim was- but was extremely depressed and leading a miserable empty life. Just like Gojo, when Toji tapped into the “human” side of himself during battle (his pride), that was what ultimately caused him to lose the fight. Even when Toji came back as a corpse, he “loses” the fight that he would’ve won easily against Megumi if not for the love he has for his son, tapping into his humanity again. The times Toji felt at peace and truly happy at the end of both of his lives was when he was caring for his son- telling Gojo to take care of him, then confirming his abusive family didn’t raise him. Losing his humanity lets him win his battles, but leaves him isolated and aimless. Embracing his humanity fatally kills him, but leaves him happy and fulfilled.

(Gojo also loses his first round against Toji bc he got distracted thinking about protecting Amanai!)

Humanity is what fucks both of them up in battle, but without it, they have nothing but empty strength. They’d just be monsters like Sukuna.

Curse you Gege for making the only thing worth fighting for in their lives their greatest weakness. When I catch you cat man.

Gojo does not have a god complex, though being the strongest has undoubtably made him arrogant…but like who wouldn’t be at his level of power lol? What Gege focuses on when Gojo’s strength is highlighted in the series is how lonely and isolated Gojo felt bc of it. The way he uses his strength very transparently tells you what he actually cares about- the people around him. Gojo wants to laugh with his friends and have a world where his students will not suffer the same trauma as he has. To be able to stand on their own two feet without him. He uses it to protect. Sukuna transparently uses his power to fight powerful opponents and make others suffer.

Think people mistake it as a god complex bc “I am the honored one” and his lowkey sadistic joy of battle- that’s more him feeling good bc he finally gets moments where he can use this freak strength of his he always keeps docile bc he is way too strong for anyone to be a fair match to him 90% of the time. He is a different type of living organism. Pookie just tweaks here and there it’s fine he’s blowing off steam 😊💖 (but fr imagine having all his power and just…sitting all day bc nothing can challenge you) (I think he just be bored and feeling understimulated so he gets a lil too excited when he gets to stretch bye)

He was FORCED to evolve, power wasn’t smtg he was obsessively seeking out. Still isn’t. He wasn’t able to deploy Red or RCT at the beginning of Hidden Inventory, and he didn’t care beyond being a lil frustrated- like having a homework assignment he couldn’t understand. He was happy when both him AND Geto were labeled as The Strongest. He loved having a proper rival for strength- someone to understand him. He values connection with others much more than raw strength.

It’s not a god complex. It’s quite literally him acknowledging the undeniable fact that he is the strongest and having to take care of the world bc of it. He is actively trying not to be the only card to use against curses by training his students. He knows PAINFULLY well that for all the power he has, he is just one man in one body in the end. He cannot be everyone’s trump card everywhere at once. Unfortunately the Shibuya Incident proved this to be the case- when he’s gone everything goes to straight hell, everyone dies, and his students end up traumatized but evolved in power like he did in the past. As well as abandoned by jujutsu society after being used to their marrow.

[kittycatsheros9]

gf!Ethan landry x Reader

Word count: 1158

Warnings: mentions of sex, murder, and nude photos

Notes: Sorry y’all, I deleted the other post. But here’s a new work and enjoy!

Ethan had first properly talked to you when Chad introduced him to the friend group. I say properly because he had always noticed you. Since you had connections with people he was likely going to murder, he stalked you too. Mostly you. When the time came, he knew he wanted to leave you out. You had no partake in the death of Richie, his brother.

Over time, a couple months, you and Ethan had been getting friendlier and friendlier. Soon telling your friends that you two were dating. Ethan’s feelings for you were all real and not apart of his plan to get closer to the friend group. No lies being told whenever he said “I love you”. And not just using you to actually lose his virginity.

Even before dating, just friends, he saw how confident you came off. Spoke up when someone commented about your friends being “murderers”, though he would silently disagree. When you went to parties, barely any clothing actually on because you knew you were beautiful. Beautiful in every way. So well spoken, gorgeous body, face, and energy.

But in your relationship with Ethan, it showed during sex. You always liked being in charge. Riding his dick or edging him. Sometimes he would smirked and looked up at you, about to tell you that you were slowing down. He knew this would get a rise out of you. You would whimper at his response and with all the strength in you, tried to finish riding him. Ethan wasn’t necessarily a sub. He just played into your little game. There were nights where he would take over. Tired of your snarky comments and punishing you. Pushing you past your limits. Orgasm after orgasm.

However, tonight was not one of those nights. Ethan had Econ. At least, that's what you thought he was doing. But what he really was doing was putting on his ghost face costume. Lacing his black boots and getting his knife from his desk. Ethan, Quinn, and their dad, had a talk. Talking about who was going to be their next victim. They decided on Anika, Mindy's girlfriend. Mindy was always suspicious of Ethan and it had really annoyed him and Quinn. So they agreed on someone who was very special to her, and that was Anika.

With Ethan gone and your roommates also being gone, you were lonely tonight. Laying on your bed, looking up at your white ceiling. You were listening to your playlist. You had a tall lamp that you could change to certain colors. You decided pink, it was always pink. Your body was clad in one of Ethan’s shirts he left in your room. And underneath was a lacy matching set. You thought maybe he would come over, stressed from his class and you could help him. More dirty thoughts started to appear in your head. A blush formed on your cheeks.

You knew he was in class, but what if you did something? Something that would let him know how much you missed him. So you got off your bed. Taking off Ethan’s shirt and tossing it aside, to lay on your bed. You grabbed your phone. Giggles escaped your mouth, knowing what you were about to do would make him hard, in class.

You walked over to your closet mirrors. Thinking about how you should pose. You sat down on your rug. Your legs tucked underneath your butt. So just your thighs and upper half of your body was showing. You positioned your phone to not showcase your face. Just wanting him to focus on your body. You slightly pulled the sides of your lacy thong up. To let it rest higher on your hips. Creating more of a v shape of the thin fabric. You took a photo and then another. Slightly shifting your position.

You felt hot and could probably get off just by the thought of Ethan seeing these pictures. He would save them in his camera roll. Only for him to see. But if you were being bad, he could tease you about sending them out to the whole college. Of course he wouldn’t do that. To possessive over you.

You pulled down the straps of your bra. Showing skin more and more, which could be seen throughout the photos. Not just stopping at the straps, you fully took the lacy bra off. Freeing your boobs. They immediately turned to peaks and your nipples hardened from the cold air. You were about to press down on the camera button when you heard a loud noise.

A blood curdling scream coming from your alley way. Your head turned towards your window. You knew if you got up and walked to your window, you would see what was happening. But you didn’t, you thought it probably was a drunk person. And you didn’t think much of it. “Umm, okayyyy” you said while quietly stretching out the y. The screaming had now stopped. You only heard one loud scream.

What really was happening was your boyfriend murdering Anika. Your friend and Mindy's girlfriend. Ethan saw her walking with her headphones. There couldn’t have been a better time. Fastly striding towards her, he clasped his hand down on her mouth. Not wanting her to yell. From behind he grabbed ahold of her waist. She was thrashing in his hold and trying to scream for help. But no one was around. While holding her, he took her into the alley way. Turning the corner he looked up and saw pink.

It was your room. He knew that lamp that you would keep on for hours. Always in the color pink. After this mess he could go to your apartment. Wanting to comfort you, even though he was a murderer.

Back to the present time. Anika trying to escape from his hold. He had enough. He grabbed his knife and stabbed her in the throat. All the adrenaline and hurt in her made her scream. A loud, ear covering scream. Anika knew this was it. She didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone. Ethan took out his knife from her throat. She dropped dead. He let his leather covered hand swipe her blood off of his knife.

He looked back up at your room. He was only able to see the pink. He began thinking that you were probably already asleep. But boy was he wrong. His phone in his back pocket vibrated. He took off his leather gloves and his mask. He reached for his phone. His lock screen showing multiple notifications from you. So he opened.

It was you. Only in your lacy matching set. The photos showed you posing infront of your closet mirrors. Some with your bra off and some with it on. He couldn’t stop looking at the pictures. Just standing in your alley way, infront of Anika’s dead body. But his full attention on you. Interrupting the silence.

“Oh fuck”

[lavendertales]

Sweet lies: Chapter 8**

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: when Frankie’s suspicions get confirmed over drinks with the group, his feelings get the best out of him yet again in what culminates into another shameful night.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: jealous & feral Frankie, mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus from behind, orgasm denial, doggy (safe).

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

gif: @pascalplease 

series masterlist | AO3

When you wake up the next morning, nothing seems different. And yet, you know that as of last night, everything was now different.

While you and Frankie were certainly not friends anymore, now… things were even more complicated than before. Less than friends, yet also more than that. Not quite lovers, but not less than that. All it took was one taste and you were sold to the passion you felt.

The more you think about it, the more your head is pounding persistently, soaked in questions you have no answer for.

You gathered all of your strength for the following week to do your goddamn job and get back in touch with your friends you so abruptly abandoned at their Valentine’s Day bash. You came up with whatever reasonable excuse you could think of, carefully avoiding the mentioning of what had actually transpired.

You called everyone individually and apologized, using the same excuse: stomach bug. It was serious enough to leave a party abruptly, but not life-threatening. Everyone bought it. You were safe.

Except that each time you looked in the mirror, you saw betrayal and shame.

You remain the same person, and yet everything is changed. You feel different. Because now you know what he feels like, and it is the most haunting knowledge you could’ve possibly possessed. You know what his touch feels like, and you know how sinfully good it feels to have him pressed atop of you, as well as hot and wet inside of you. You now know what Andrea must’ve felt on a regular basis, and thus the self-loathing process began in no time.

Frankie and Andrea being on a break didn’t change things much. Sure, they might not be together right now, but your conversation with Frankie gone south definitely altered his decision-making. You do wonder, at the back of your mind, if being with you felt different for him, too. You wonder if his body feels as heavy as yours does, as empty without your presence as yours does.

You wonder if he has trouble making a choice now.

What a cruel thing to think about, you harshly scold yourself. You shouldn’t be thinking this way. Instead, you should acknowledge that what happened was terrible, and hope that if Frankie and Andrea do get back together, they will both be blissfully happy with each other.

Like the affair with you hadn’t meant a single damn thing.

It can’t mean anything, you tell yourself. You happen to like Andrea, and whatever she and Frankie are going through right now, you can’t be in the middle of it. So you decide that if Frankie does not come clean to her about what happened between the two of you, you will. It’s the right thing to do.

After all, you cannot go on with the victim mentality. So what if you felt left behind and abandoned, lonely and broken? No one really cared. People hurt all the time, and they move on, with or without the pain.

Right now, all you have to do is get through this Friday.

You nearly forgot that you’re supposed to meet the gang for drinks at eight p.m., so you throw on a last minute outfit that won’t make you stand out, do your makeup in the most casual way possible, and you’re on your way. You do wonder if Andrea will be present. That would make things even more uncomfortable for you, and possibly for Frankie, too. But if they’re on a break from each other, they wouldn’t be hanging out with each other, right?

Instead of wondering till your head hurts again, you just get to the bar and take it one step at a time. Whatever might go down tonight, you know you can handle it. This is just between you and Frankie—and Andrea.

“Well hello stranger,” Benny greets you first with a big hug, followed by Emily.

“Hey, guys.”

“You won’t bail on us again, will you?” Emily chuckles.

“I don’t think so, no.”

You then go on to hug Will and Mia, taking the time to enjoy the sight of your friends so happy to see you. It’s been a long time since you actually felt so content, and all things aside, you’ve missed these outings with them.

“You feeling okay?” Will checks in with you.

“Yeah. It’s uh… it’s just been a weird couple of weeks.”

“You seem a bit… off.”

You breathe in, smiling instead. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

Ah, Will, the ever intuitive and caring man. You try to sneak in a smooth look around in search for the rest of the party, but you don’t see Frankie, Andrea, Santiago or Rose, for that matter. And just like that, you’re back to the questions.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Pope texted, saying him and Rose will be here in a few minutes. They seem to have lost track of time,” Will clarifies.

“I’ve used that excuse before, we know exactly what that means,” Benny chuckles.

“It’s not the same for everyone,” Emily says sweetly.

“Oh, please! They’ve had the hots for each other since forever and now that they started spending time alone? Chances are they’re going at it like rabbits.”

Emily makes a half amused, half grossed out face and playfully slaps his arm. You look at them fondly, admiring the openness and care they visibly have for each other, and you can’t help but swoon.

“Have you guys decided on a date for the wedding?” you ask Mia.

“We’re thinking April of next year,” she says with a flustered smile on her face. “So that it’s not too hot, not too cold.”

“Don’t worry, you’re all gonna get the invitations soon enough,” Will smiles.

“Which reminds me. I already asked Emily, but I’d like to ask you too. Would you like to be my maid of honor?”

Stunned, you stare at both Mia and Will, the corners of your mouth descend into a bright, warm smile.

“I’d love to, oh my God!” you exclaim and go to hug Mia.

For a moment, it all seems right in the world. No awkwardness, no aching, nothing negative.

And then, Frankie makes his appearance. And you’re back to the shame and guilt.

Although, much to your ease, you remark that he’s without Andrea. At the very least, playing pretend tonight will be easier. You don’t think you could handle being in Andrea’s vicinity without confessing everything to her, and that would pretty much ruin the night.

“Hi,” he greets you firstly.

“Hi.”

You’re well aware of the fact that all your friends are watching the two of you, so you try to act as natural as possible.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Please?” he asks.

You can’t really hide your surprise, but you nod in agreement, going to a more secluded part of the bar. Although being so close to him, inhaling his cologne and feeling his warmth so close again, it’s probably not the best idea.

“What is it?” you ask sharply.

“This probably goes without saying, but what happened last week—“

“Nothing happened, Frankie,” you immediately cut him off.

He nods, slowly. “Right. Of course.”

“This also goes without saying, but nothing even remotely close to what didn’t happen will ever happen again,” you say.

“Agreed.”

“Have you talked to Andrea?”

Frankie gulps, momentarily avoiding your eyes, and you instantly recognize the answer.

“No,” he confesses. “We’re on a no talking, no seeing each other basis.”

“Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to tell her.”

“I’m gonna have to tell her something which didn’t happen?”

“Yes. Because if you don’t, I will.”

Bewildered, he curls his hand around your wrist, barely applying any pressure. “You want to tell her?” he can’t help but ask.

“Yes. It’s the right thing to do. And it you want to have a shot at your marriage, you’ll need to be honest with her.”

“Wait, so… I go back to her like nothing happened, like this didn’t mean anything?”

“Yes, Frankie! Because nothing happened, and it doesn’t mean anything!”

“I was in love with you then, and I’m just as in l—“

“No.”

Your tone is firm, decisive, and it shocks and chills Frankie at the same time.

“I am not a homewrecker,” you say. “And you are not a cheater. So this can’t be happening. This isn’t how we were supposed to happen, and I definitely won’t let it be a thing now. It was… good and fun, but—“

“Good?”

His voice sounds like he’s pleading for something, needing to hear something else, and it makes your knees weaker than you’d like to admit.

“That’s all?” he goes on, and you have to use whatever ounce of strength you have to resist the temptation.

“What do you wanna hear?”

The way Frankie looks at you, with eyes more lustful than you’ve ever seen them, you’re starting to doubt your own sanity and question your beliefs.

“You know what, you’re right,” he concedes, as if realizing he’s been talking a whole lot of nonsense until now. “It doesn’t matter. It was… nothing.”

You nod, all too eager. “It was nothing.”

You both return to the table, noticing drinks on the table already. Apparently Will paid for the first round, celebrating his upcoming nuptials. Then you notice Santiago and Rose rushing in, looking through the crowd for you all.

“Done already?” Benny teases them, much to their confusion.

“Would you knock it off?” you shush him.

“Sorry we’re late, it was traffic,” Santiago apologizes, cramming himself and Rose at the table.

Now you’re face to face with Frankie, which in retrospect, it might be more favorable than being right next to him.

“Sure there was,” Benny teases, right in Emily’s ear.

“Benny, come on.”

“So how have you guys been?” Will asks just as Santiago puts his arm around Rose. “I see things are picking up for the two of you.”

“Things are… good,” Rose concedes, barely containing the bright smile on her face. “Really good.”

“All I’m saying is, when you first start dating someone, you can’t really keep your hands to yourself,” Benny chuckles in your vicinity, but loud enough for you to hear. “It’s all about talking and having sex cause it’s just so incredible to be with that person. We didn’t even leave the bedroom for the whole weekend when you and I first got together, Em. And it was a weekly occurrence.”

Emily rolls her eyes, but to her ease, you chuckle. “TMI, guys,” you tell them, albeit your amusement.

“You gotta have this feeling at least once in your life,” Benny then tells you. “When you just can’t stop thinking about this person, when all you wanna do is be with them, get to know them inside out, on all levels, and all you can think about is kissing them, their hands in your body…”

You gulp, struggling to swallow around the massive stone in your throat as you lock eyes with Frankie. You do know that feeling all too well, especially now, and it makes your head spin. It is now, as you listen to Benny’s speech that you reminisce of how it felt to kiss him, at long last, after all those excruciating years, how it felt to have him grind in between your legs, so eager to please, how it felt to have his face buried in your soaked folds, licking to the depths of you till you saw stars.

“Where’s Andrea, by the way?” Mia asks, her question bringing you back with your feet on the ground. “Thought she was joining us tonight.”

Frankie clears his throat, desperately trying to avoid the curious glares from all of his friends. So he chooses to stare at you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Right. Andrea. Actually… we’re not on speaking terms right now,” he manages to get out. “Or seeing terms.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t really know. She said she wants to take a little break from all the wedding stress, so… we’re on a break.”

“Does that mean the wedding’s off?” Emily asks.

“I don’t know. All she said is that she wants us to press pause on us, so we’re not talking or seeing each other for a while. She didn’t want to cancel the wedding, so until she figures out whatever it is that she wants, we’re not together right now.”

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Santiago says. “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it. So how about we talk more happy things, hm?”

You watch Frankie down the whiskey in his glass, thinking that the whole situation isn’t easy for him. But it isn’t easy for you, either. This whole situation could’ve been so much easier if maybe you wouldn’t have returned in your hometown.

Maybe Frankie had it right all along. Maybe cutting him out of your life for good would’ve been the easier road.

“Okay, okay, a toast!” Benny announces, raising his glass. “To… Pope, finally getting his freak on.”

“Dude,” Santiago scolds him.

“It’s okay, let him finish,” Rose intervenes, clearly bemused.

“Thank you! So. To Pope and Rose, finding their way to each other at last. It’s been a bumpy road for this dude, ‘specially when we were hoping those two would make it work instead.”

He points with his glass at Santiago and you, and Frankie is quick to notice that. He instantly frowns, a bitter taste in his mouth.

“What?” he asks.

“Yeah, those two and their little fling a few years back had us on the edge of our seat,” Benny laughs, unaware of the looks being exchanged at the table. “We figured when she came back in town, they rekindled things, but hey, all for the best!”

You remain quiet, staring apologetically at Rose, who reassures you through a single look and shake of her head that there are no hard feelings whatsoever.

“You—you dated Pope?” Frankie asks you straightforwardly.

“It wasn’t like that,” you exhale.

“We didn’t technically date,” Santiago adds.

“When was this?”

You and Santiago exchange looks, all while Frankie feels his blood boiling in his veins. He shouldn’t be affected by this, not even in the slightest, but he can’t help it. The control you have over him is far greater than self-control. All he cares about right now is that he was right to fear something was going on between you two.

Or there was, at some point.

“She was in town a couple of years back, summer break,” Santiago explains. “We hung out a few times. No big deal. We didn’t actually date.”

Benny leans in towards Emily, an embarrassed look on his face. “I’m really not good at keeping things secret, am I?”

“You either gotta stop drinking or I’ll have to sew your mouth shut, baby,” Emily tells him.

“See, I told you something was up with them,” Mia tells her friend.

“Not now! Why didn’t things work out?”

Santiago shrugs, while you remain completely quiet. “I don’t know, we just thought we’re better off as friends.”

“I always thought that’s just what people tell each other to make themselves feel better about their stupid, cowardly choices.”

Frankie nearly groans as he finishes the sentence, staring you down all the while. But it’s not working on you.

“Always, really?” you ask in retaliation.

“Anyway, fingers crossed for my third date with Rose, guys,” Santiago tries to lighten up the mood. “I really want this to work.”

“So do I,” Rose smiles.

“So do I,” you tell them both.

You can feel Frankie’s gaze on you, burning you alive, and it’s causing you difficulties with breathing. You have to be strong and make the right choice, otherwise…

Otherwise what does this say about you? That you’re willing to bend over all your morals and beliefs for one man, who still has a tight grip around you? That you’re actually not strong at all? That you are weak, craving and chasing all the wrong things?

That is not who you are. That is not who you’ll become. Not even for Frankie.

Which is quite the irony, considering the fact that you once said you’d do anything to be with him. Reality, however, is a little scarier than your original selfish thoughts.

You cast all of that aside, for the time being, at least. You toast to the happiness of your friends, calling it at night at eleven p.m. after one cocktail and a shot of tequila. You’re not trying to get drunk so your morals can bend over backwards just to feel—him.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?” Rose tries to persuade you as you’re practically with one leg out the door.

“Sweetie, between sitting here with all you happily in love couples talking about pet names and sex and being at home in my PJ’s, I choose the latter. No offense. You know I love you.”

“I love you too. Get home safe, okay?”

“Okay.”

You kiss her cheek, eager to get out of the bar and feel the end of winter cold air hit your face. You need it more than you thought you did. You’ve made it through the night, and that’s something to be proud of.

You kick off your heels the moment you enter your apartment. A loud exhale escapes your mouth, then you freeze, just before you enter the bedroom.

You’ve slept in your room for the whole week, and yet now, as Frankie’s presence still looms over you, you feel that ache in your body again and all of the memories of how you’ve tainted that bed engulf you.

A loud knock on your door interrupts you reminiscing. You wonder who could it possibly be at this hour, but you don’t want to overthink this. Your head already pounds just thinking of Frankie’s eyes on you throughout the evening, and the look on his face when he heard about you and Santiago.

The second you open the door, you instantly regret it.

“What are you—“

“So you get to be hypocritical about my choice but yours is fine?”

Frankie storms inside, without even waiting for some sort of confirmation from you. He’s shaken and angry, and you do have a hint as to why that is, but you cannot dwell on that, you just can’t.

“I didn’t hide the truth from you, as opposed to you,” you remind him harshly. “You could’ve told me. You could’ve talked to me, but you chose to leave.”

There’s something slightly manic about Frankie’s laughter when he turns towards you, looking at you like you’re the one who’s gone mad.

“What person in their right mind would tell someone they’re in love with, ‘hey, I’m gonna cut you out of my life because I met someone new that I’m supposed to be happy with’?”

You frown, inching closer to him, just as Frankie’s face drops, realizing what he just said.

“’Supposed to’?” you ask.

“I’m happy,” he says grimly. “I am, I—“

“Why do you care about this, anyway? Why are you this angry over something that might’ve happened with me and Pope?”

“Because none of my friends bothered to tell me, and it fucking stings!”

“Maybe no one told you because you and I are not friends, Francisco! We haven’t been since you walked out on us, and we sure as hell aren’t friends now.”

You feel Frankie’s whiskey infused breath on your face, warm and threatening at the same time, and it gets you weak all over again.

“Is it that hard to believe or understand how this might hurt me?” he coos, looking you up and down. “That the girl I fell in love with in high school might’ve been secretly involved with my best friend?”

“You still have a wedding date set,” you remind him, your voice shaky in the slightest. “You may not be together right now, but that date still means something. It’s an open door. Andrea will want to return to you, and that means something.”

“Yeah, well, as it turns out, you also mean something to me.”

You’re nearly crying at this point, your limbs cold as you stare into his eyes. You see the misery, the confliction, the apology, everything, and it makes your situation even more complicated.

“I like Andrea,” you tell him. “I really do. Which makes it sound horrible based on what we did last week, but I do like her. She’s very nice. So I gotta ask.”

“No,” he cuts you off immediately. “Don’t.”

“Do you love her?”

Frankie’s eyes widen, much to your surprise. Before, it sounded like he had anticipated that question before you even posed it, and yet somehow, he still seems to be taken aback by it.

“We’re getting married,” he replies mechanically. “Still. I think. I don’t… ugh, fuck.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That should be good enough.”

“Is it? Because if it was, last week wouldn’t have happened, no matter who I was.”

Frankie grits his teeth, racked with even more guilt and shame.

“If you love her as much as I hope you do, if you really do…” you start, “…we bury what happened with us, put on our happy smiles and move on like it never happened. When this break is over for you guys, if she decides she wants you, wholeheartedly, you won’t have to tell her a damn thing. I won’t, either.”

“We planned a wedding.”

His voice sounds defeated, broken, and for a simple moment lost in time, you feel dreadful being witness to such a sight.

“Frankie,” you coo, almost tempted to cup his cheek, to graze it gently.

“I love her because she’s not you. There’s your answer. I love her… in spite of her not being you. It’s both her best and worst feature. But I don’t blame you for that. I’d be an idiot and a half if I’d do that, it’s just… what about your little speech? ‘Choose me, love me, your friend’?”

The look on your face is even guiltier than his. “You’ve spent all this time with Andrea, being her partner in everything… it should be her.”

“I know it should be her. Don’t you think I know that?”

“I don’t love you! I don’t, okay?”

Lie, the little voice in your head screams at you. Lie like you’ve never lied before.

That’s when you finally pull away from him, your own shouting startling you, but you know that if you won’t get this out now, you might never be able to sleep again.

“I don’t love you anymore,” you say the words slowly, as angrily as you are capable of. “I’ve been holding onto this—this fantasy, this ghost of you, but it’s not real. It’s wrong and it’s tainted with betrayal and I just can’t be part of what this is doing to you and Andrea. Say what you want, but this break, this pause… this will be over, and she’ll still want to marry you because who in their right mind wouldn’t, so… I don’t love you. It’s gotten me nowhere and nothing. I can’t keep doing this.”

Frankie moves back to you, eyeing you up and down in the same way, only with more famish and desire, and it sparks the same thing out of you. You’re on very thin ice already, and this might be the last move to finally send you down under.

“You’re a miserable liar,” he murmurs.

“I’m actually a very good one.”

“Not to me, you aren’t.”

“But I don’t—“

“You do.”

You close your eyes, trying to regulate your breath, but failing spectacularly.

“Why do you sound so sure?” you whisper.

“Because I feel it. I feel it in the way you look at me, the way you kissed me, the way you moaned when I touched you—“

“Stop.”

“I don’t want this anymore than you do, not like this. But I can’t fight it.”

“You know what? I convinced myself for… so long that everything I thought there was between us was just my wishful thinking. That it was all in my head. That you could never see me as more than a simple friend. Pero tú y yo sabemos que no soy sólo alguien para ti. Sabes bien que yo no soy cualquiera.”

(But you and I both know that I am not just somebody to you. You know very well that I am not just anyone.)

Frankie’s jaw quite literally drops as he soaks in all of your words that fall so sweetly from your tongue. He’s absolutely stunned, in the impossibility to move or even breathe properly.

“Did you just—since when do you speak Spanish?” he has the strength to murmur.

“Took a class in college. Three years.”

He shakes his head, anxiously licking his lips and feeling himself falling apart with each passing second on the clock.

“Fucking hell, don’t—don’t do this to me,” he seemingly warns.

“You should go. Please, just go—just go already, like you did before.”

You sound so weak and pathetic, you’re not even believing yourself. You dropped that Spanish bombshell on him and you can tell it had a mind-blowing effect on him. He couldn’t possibly walk away from you after this.

“I can’t,” he coos almost desperately. “Tell me something worse than seeing you again, after all this time, being so close to you… and not being able to feel you?”

“Damn it, Francisco. Why couldn’t you have said all those things years ago, not now?”

“Because I’m a coward when it comes to this. And now that you’re here… I can’t handle this. I am… weak… as fuck. In a whole other way.”

The way he curses out loud, enunciating each breathy word, it’s making your head spin and soon, abandon all that makes you such a rational human being.

His lips are suddenly hungry, yet tender against yours. You angle your head just the right amount for Frankie to fully press his mouth on yours, his mustache a slight tickle against your face. His tongue catches yours, no need to even battle for dominance. You both cave in at the same time, an insatiable need overcoming both of you. The throbbing in your body is persistent and it hurts, causing you to squirm against his body.

Just as last week, Frankie handles you speedily and quite expertly; once you’re back into the tainted sanctuary you still call your bedroom, you find yourself on all fours on the mattress, the pants dragged down furiously from your ass. You suck in a deep breath, shook at the whole scenario, but your whole skin feels like it’s on fire, your veins plump with adrenaline.

Silence seems to be a mutual understanding between the two of you once again, and you’re both thankful for it; right now, you’re following each other’s motions and it’s more than enough by now. You’re waiting, unsure what for, but your patience runs thin. This already feels filthy enough without having it dragged on.

And suddenly, a broken gasp escapes your lips when you feel Frankie’s wet fingers playing with your clit for a little bit, and then, at long last, you feel his tongue dutifully lapping at your folds. It’s just as maddening as it was the first time, setting in motion a craving that can no longer be suppressed by mere motions.

Frankie’s actions are fueled by something more tonight. Jealousy. He was undeniably jealous tonight, and he can feel it still. His body burns, not just with the desire to feel you again. Your broken moans are more than enough to have his cock throb in his pants, feeling the slick building in your pussy. His large hands hold onto your ass as your mouth completely devours your heat. He needs this as depraved as the moment itself is, filled with shame and greed: fast and hard.

You’re so close; god fucking damn it, you’re so close. Just a little bit more, just a bit more of his skilled tongue to get you there and then—

Then what? Then you’ll magically be okay? You know this isn’t like craving some chocolate. This goes beyond that, in lieu of what you have repeatedly told yourself. This, right here—him driving his cock into your pussy till you’re both spent and guilty enough to walk away from each other—it’s not meaningless.

Not yet, Frankie thinks, steadying himself. Don’t let her come yet.

His mouth is no longer on you, and you actually feel your eyes get teary. Probably from a combination of overstimulation and neediness, but who’s to say for sure? Now, you’re just standing there, on all fours, ass and pussy exposed before him, anticipating whatever it is that’s coming.

There are so many things you’d like to say, from sweet nothings, to downright filthy, adoring things, and then some regretful things as well. But you don’t say anything. Neither of you does. The only sounds are, once again, your unsteady breaths, and then the sound of something being ripped apart.

Frankie grunts as he places the condom on his erection. It hurts to even wrap his hand around his cock at how swollen and needy he is. He guides himself to your entrance, not wasting a single more second. He doesn’t ease his way into you, nothing of the sort: it’s rough from the start, just in the way he’s practically shoving his cock between your tight, heated walls. You choke, grasping the sheets beneath you in a lousy attempt to steady yourself, but nothing can keep you grounded when Frankie’s slamming into you full force. His hands hold your body in place by the hips, the pace unforgiving. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, nor does he allow himself a moment of peace. He just wants to fuck you rough and fast, and that’s all.

He drives into you without any kind of reserve whatsoever, relishing into your warm, slick cunt. He’s gonna fuck you till he forgets that his plans for the future are hindered. He’s gonna fuck you till he can’t breathe and till he forgets that his engagement fell apart for a reason he does his best to keep out of his mind.

He’s gonna fuck you till your lips are going to bleed because of how hard you’re trying not to scream his name.

With each breath you take, the harder he fucks you. Your face is buried in the sheets as Frankie rams his cock deeper into you, with a power you wouldn’t have deemed as possible. He hears you muttering some things, probably cuss words. He’s cussing under his breath, too, grunting and panting, needing to come so badly that he might just black out soon.

You swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of “Go on, fuckin’ cum”, but you refuse to dwell on it, not when your orgasm hits you full force. And, by the way Frankie’s thrusts slow and stutter, he’s in the same predicament.

With a final thrust, Frankie buries himself inside you to the hit, spent, whereas you break on a sob. You squeeze his cock, and then release him once he’s drenched in your orgasm. He pulls out as abruptly as he entered you, quickly cleaning you both and disposing of the condom. He accidentally locks eyes with you and you quiver. He falters, for one quick second, and you know he’s contemplating the same thing as you are.

“I should go,” he mutters, looking around disoriented.

He’s expecting arguments, shouts… yet still dares to stare at you, waiting for you to contradict him. A part of him wishes you’d actually want him to stay.

He certainly does not expect what comes out of your mouth next. “I really think that you should.”

previous | next

[aengelren]

I’ve gotten this asked a couple of times, so I’ll pin it as an answer to why I love Eren so much.

Happy birthday, Eren

Pinned

A few years ago, I tried to convince my brother to watch Brooklyn nine nine. He told me he’d watch one episode in exchange of me watching an episode of Attack on titan. Reluctantly, I gave in, and the rest is history. The ups, downs, tears, laughter I’ve experienced with this story is beyond what I expected that night. But the thing I’ll hold most precious, is finding Eren: my favorite character of all time.

He’s so full of emotions and he expresses them so vividly, it made it hard not to feel for him. I was immediately beholden by him. From that very first episode. In shock over his strong morality, the questions he had about the world. About his existential view of it. “Life has no meaning? I’ll create my own.” How he felt so strongly about his rights, about being caged, but mostly, how he acted upon those thoughts. It was simply inspiring. Not the actions itself, but how he went through hell and back for his goals. With his will alone. He wasn’t made that way, or taught that was. It’s his very nature. “I’ve always been me…”

Does freedom have morality? I saw an Aot analysis asking this great question. Is Eren not free because his freedom doesn’t align with your definition of it? It doesn’t matter that I disagree with his view, it’s his. And his blatant pursuit for it makes him free. He’s never been held back by authority, fear. While other people run from titans, Eren hurls himself towards them. Whereas a “normal” human usually has to fight to keep going, Eren always fights to hold back. He’s in a constant state of wanting to go all out, a maximalist. He learns to control his urges, to embrace his destructive nature and go after his desires. Even though he KNOWS they are wrong. But they feel right for him, so he’ll do it. He cries for his victims, yet he still kills them. He never denies being a monster, like Levi said in s1, “he can’t be caged. He will never submit to anyone.” Imagine being so free that no amount of destruction or judgment can change the path you want to follow. Having thousands of years worth of pain impose your brain in form of memories, messes you up. But even with all that, he kept moving forward. Making his limited time alive account for something instead of sitting back, accepting fate. Following the battle of Eren vs himself, exploring his hypocritical, contradicting, sympathetic mind, has been an absolute pleasure. I don’t think you can learn enough.

You know how you wish you didn’t care about what people thought of you? Or social norms? He never did. Even from a young age. The way his mind works and how he never shy’s away from his beliefs. There are many parts of Eren I look up to. Like how he’s always a raw version of himself. There are also many traits of his that I relate to. His anger, grief, his self hatred. The part I can’t relate to is the sheer willpower he has. Eren is a literal physical manifestation of pursuing his will. Not naturally intelligent like Armin, not physically strong like Mikasa. He moves forward, alone, only through the strength of his mind. He grew up in a loving home, yet killed ruthlessly as a kid. It’s the ultimate discussion about Nature vs nurture. I know he helped a lot of people like he did with me, the level of nuances are insane and there’s tons to discuss. But I just wanted to talk a bit about why i love him so much, even if it’s just for myself. One thing that i know many of us can relate to is how lonely Eren felt through his hardest times. Yes, he was surrounded by people but no one ever asked him what was wrong, even though he had visibly changed. And even though being alone is “what he wanted, we all know he wouldn’t mind a shoulder to cry on. Everyone has a limit. (My love for him is limitless.) There’s nothing I don’t appreciate about his character. Happy birthday, Eren ♡

[runeians]

IT’S STRANGE, SEEING SOMEONE LIKE WILLIAM LOOK SO OLD. She’s sure he wouldn’t thank her for the thought, but her eyes track over him curiously, and she sees it all: the lines of exhaustion, the greying hair, the delicate composition of his body. Even as spindly as her own physical form is, the Puppet hardly a creature of brute strength, he looks far more fragile. Dangerous, still, and the moment he scowls, she withdraws a little further into herself, but more tired. . . . Dare she say more human ?

“ You’re not really a monster, ” she says curiously, wandering just a few steps closer, and this is what had killed her before—TRUST—but still she finds herself moving, “ you don’t sound like one anymore, anyway. And you certainly don’t look like one. ”

The injuries help. Phantom though they are, Charlie knows they at least existed: has seen the man bleed out more than once. And it’s a comforting sight as much as it makes her sad and troubled — and now it stiffens her words with childish resolve, tilting the Puppet’s head at him. Those gaping black eyes on its porcelain head drilling deep into his face.

“ You’re not a monster in here, ” she observes, “ and I miss talking to people. The others… they’re not themselves anymore. ” Whether Cassidy has taken over them in some way, or whether they’re simply as hellbent on revenge as she is, Charlie can’t tell. But she’s been lonely! Despite her best efforts, a faint pout enters her voice when she speaks next: “I hate being alone. So I thought I’d come here. It makes sense, cause you’re alone too, right?”

(Well. When he’s not being mauled by animatronics and his own victims.)

CONTINUED. / @behindslaughter

[grimfate]

@mshtix​  says :   ❛  just face it, you’re stuck with me now ― whether you want to or not.  ❜   to  dwight.   🖤   she  tease  him. 

        the  punch  that  lands  on  his  shoulder  is    playful ,  he's  learned ,  so  unlike  those  of  his  peers  back  home ,  with  hands  capable  of  inflicting  nothing  but    pain,  whether  by  their  own  merit  or  assistance  from  the    lockers    lining  the  walls.    he  likes  to    (  learned  to?  )    joke  that  he  spent  his  schooling  years  as  a    walking  bruise.    and  even  then ,  he  wasn't    playing  the  victim    right ,  couldn't  help  but    chuckle  nervously    instead  of  cry  and  beg ,  trying  to  talk  his  way  out  of  whatever  humiliation  he'd  be  subjected  to  that  day.  

        looking  back ,  there  isn't  a    whole  lot    he's  done  right  in  his  life.    from  ruining  parts  at  the  auto  shop  to  repeatedly  crashing  his  bike  while  delivering  pizzas ,  he's  done  just  about    everything    wrong ,  and  everyone  knew  it.    everyone ,  including  his  fellow  survivors.    when  they'd  first  arrived  in  the  fog ,  he  was  little  more  than  a    detriment ,  unable  to  hold  his  own ,  and  it  was  only  through    repeated  trial  and  error    that  he  discovered  his  true  affinity :  utilizing  everyone's  strengths  for  the  betterment  of  the  team.    it  wasn't  much ,  but  it  was  just  enough  to  start  slowly  earning  their  respect.  

        nea  in  particular  was  the  hardest  to  wear  down ,  a  certifiable    lone  wolf    if  he'd  ever  met  one.    whether  out  of  pity  or  frustration  at  seeing  his  lack  of    physical  prowess ,  she'd  offered  to  teach  him  how  to  traverse  the  various  realms    more  efficiently ,  how  to  use  gravity  to  his  advantage  when  evading  a  killer.    he  was  thankful  for  her  patience  and  understanding ,  and  told  her  so  as  an  aside  when  they  returned  to  the  campfire ,  knowing  she  wouldn't  want  such    sappy  shit    being  said  amongst  the  others.  

        he  didn't  mind.    he  still  doesn't.    they've  shared  several  heartfelt    (  albeit  fleeting  )    moments  together  in  their  continued  quest  for  survival ,  and  he's  come  to  consider  her  an  invaluable  member  of  their  team.  

        ❛❛    i  can  think  of    worse    ways  to  spend  a    hellish  eternity.  ❜❜         the  smile  that  tugs  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth  is  boyish  and  genuine ,  and  he  even  goes  so  far  as  to  give  a  very  gentle ,  playful  punch  to  her  shoulder  in  return.        ❛❛    seriously ,  though.   i'm  glad  you're  with  us.  you've  been  a  big  help.    ❜❜  

[skylarsin7]

The Gipson Girls Job: Ch. 8

Chapter Eight

The next morning dawned in a muted sort of way, overcast and grey. Eliot shook her awake gently, smiling at her as her eyes fluttered open. “Good mornin’, Sunshine. It’s time to get up. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” He told her. She stretched, yawning. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She felt stronger today, and that made her smile, but it was short-lived. A little sliver of nervousness skittered down her spine, making her shiver. Today was D-Day. She would meet Eliot’s team and they would begin the hunt for the assholes that had killed her sister, Roach, and countless others she didn’t even know the name of.  And it would be up to Embyr to provide the information they would need. She hoped Roach had been successful and what she carried would be the ruin of them all. 

She dressed in her jeans and purple shirt, combing her long hair out before re-braiding it neatly. She caught her reflection in the mirror and once again wished desperately for makeup. The bruises were lighter, but still purple and angry. Her skin had a little more color now, but she still looked like a domestic abuse victim. There was nothing for it now. She offered her reflection her best smile, and prayed that to the team, it wouldn’t look so much like a grimace. 

The ride back into the city was a quiet affair, and Embyr found herself overthinking. She was a tense bundle of nerves as she sat beside Eliot. He seemed to pick up on her distress and laid his hand over hers where her nails dug into the armrest. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you.” He told her. She nodded, but couldn’t force herself to relax. He squeezed her hand lightly, and held on. She drew strength from the contact, taking a deep breath. These were Eliot’s friends and associates, who were going to help her. She really shouldn’t be this nervous. 

Eliot pulled up to a huge office building, a tower of elegant red brick and iron fire escapes. Embyr swallowed. This was it. She gripped the rope of her braid, her fingers brushing the scrunchie at its end, the outline of the SD card still present beneath the fabric. Eliot parked behind the building, crossing to her side to open her door. Her knees wobbled, and she had to brace her legs apart slightly to keep her balance. She had been doing so well, now was not the time to have a relapse. Eliot wrapped an arm around her and led her to the door. They rode up the elevator in silence, but Embyr couldn’t seem to stop trembling. Stop being such a ninny. She chastised herself. Eliot took her to the top floor, his arm tightening on her waist as if he were afraid she would bolt. 

He led her down the long hallway to the end, to a heavy oak door adorned with a brass plaque that said ‘Leverage Consulting & Associates”. Before Eliot could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open, a petite blonde standing in the archway. Their eyes met, the blonde’s were a darker shade of blue than Eliot’s, with a thin ring of caramel around her pupil. Embyr managed a smile. “Parker.” Eliot said quietly, inclining his head towards the blonde. “Is she the client?” Parker asked, her tone a little stiff and distrusting. “Yes, this is Embyr.” Eliot replied simply. “Parker, are you going to let them in or not?” Another female voice said, this one smooth and lightly accented. Reluctantly, Parker stepped aside and let them through, and with a little encouragement from Eliot, Embyr stepped inside. 

It was an office, with slate grey walls and white trim. A lone wooden desk took up the wall in her immediate vision, a sleek metal sign above it with the company logo. Sconces provided ambient light, and paintings hung in strategic places around the foyer. A cursory study told her that they were all painted by the same artist, though oddly, there was no watermark or signature on them.  “This way.” Eliot offered, placing his arm around her once more. He led her through another archway where it opened up into a bigger space lined with closed off offices she assumed belonged to the team. A deep oak wall stood before them, made of two panels that slid together like doors. It looked normal enough, but based on what she knew of Eliot, there was a distinct sense of wrongness about the place. It was almost too organized, too clean and perfect. Like this entire office was nothing but a front. A…cover story. 

The doors were open, revealing a long glass top table surrounded by corporate looking chairs. It resembled a boardroom, like one would see at a fancy law firm. One wall was completely made up of screens, like one giant computer monitor. Embyr had to say she was impressed by this room. Two men sat at the table, an older, severe faced man that cradled a whiskey glass in his hand, and a younger, dark-skinned man that clicked away on a keyboard. They both looked up as she and Eliot entered the room. 

Embyr swallowed a small sob as her eyes met the dark-skinned man’s. This had to be Hardison. Eliot had been right. He looked just like Roach. A five o’clock shadow on this man’s jaw was all that differentiated them.  A tall, elegantly dressed woman leaned against the wall and she smiled at them. She had to be the owner of the accented voice. Which had to make her Sophie. Sophie radiated a maternal warmth that made Embyr’s heart clench painfully. Parker came in behind them, settling comfortably in one of the chairs. The older woman’s smile faded almost immediately as she took in Embyr’s bruises, and Embyr had to fight to keep from shying away, covering herself in shame. “Oh Honey, what happened to you?” She asked gently, her eyes wide. Embyr swallowed hard, but couldn’t answer. Eliot cleared his throat, drawing Sophie’s attention. 

“She was attacked by the Gipsons and their cronies. For stealing information from them.” Eliot’s voice was gruff, fierce. The stern-looking man rose, his expression softening slightly as he extended a hand for Embyr. This had to be Nate. “Why don’t you sit down and let’s start from the beginning.” He offered. She nodded, taking his hand for a brief shake. Eliot pulled a chair out for her and she gingerly settled into it. She was uncomfortable under the weight of the other's gazes, but Eliot placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her an encouraging smile. ‘It’s alright…’ His blue eyes told her. “I know this is difficult for you…” Nate began, as if reading Eliot’s expression, but Eliot cut him off. “Give her a moment. This has been hell for her.” He told the older man, confirming his statement. Nate sighed and sat back in his chair, swirling the glass of whiskey. 

Embyr straightened, then cleared her throat. “As you may already know, my name is Embyr. When I was eighteen I left my last foster family, and when I got a job working at a nightclub, I met my sister Lyssbeth. Also a child of the foster system, we hit it off and she took me in. We weren’t blood related, but we were the closest thing that either of us had to family.” She spoke slowly, stumbling over a few words as her tongue was still sore. “Together, we hosted soup kitchens and a half way house for girls that had nothing. We had all walks come through our doors. Then those girls started to go missing. Missing from the night club, from the apartment, even the public parks. Lyssbie went looking…” She broke off, emotion forming a lump in her throat as she was made to relive the terror of the day her sister had vanished. The subsequent search, the remains of Lyssbie’s clothes found floating along the coast… Eliot squeezed her shoulder gently, and she drew strength from his presence. “...and never came back. That's when I met Roach.” She swallowed hard. Her eyes instinctually fastened on Hardison, who offered her a sad, understanding smile. She had to look away. 

It was several moments before she could speak again. No one rushed her, and even the blonde, who gave Embyr the impression that she bored easily, was paying close attention to her. “Roach wanted to help. And since the Gipsons gave him access to their records and documents, he alone had the evidence it would take to bury them. Well, as you know…they buried him.” Tears burned the edges of her vision and she visibly blinked them back. Eliot settled in the chair beside her, reaching for her hands where they rested on the table. “I barely escaped with my life. Thanks to Eliot here. Without him, they would have killed me. Or worse.” She shuddered. 

Nate took another swig of his whiskey, and the woman standing behind him came around the table to sit down on Embyr’s other side. She reached for Embyr’s free hand, running her thumb over it as their fingers curled together. The comfort in the gesture made Embyr want to sink into this woman’s arms and weep like a child. “I’m very sorry for your loss. And what you’ve had to go through. But we won’t let them get away with it.” She said quietly, her rich mahogany eyes a little glassy with emotion. Embyr nodded, managing a weak smile. “Thank you…” She let the sentence trail, and the woman smiled. “Sophie.” She replied, confirming Embyr’s assumption. Nate cleared his throat, catching the girl’s attention. “Eliot said you have the evidence Daniel was able to glean from the Gipsons hard drives, is that correct?” Embyr swallowed. She got the distinct impression that Nate was uncomfortable in emotional situations, that he was all business. She nodded, bringing the tail of her braid forward. All eyes watched her as she tugged her scrunchie free and unzipped the secret compartment. Sophie’s eyes widened. “That is genius!” She exclaimed. Embyr’s smile broadened as she slid the drive over the table to Hardison, who caught it effortlessly. “My sister used to use it to keep a stash of emergency money in…” The memory of her sister had her throat closing again and she cleared it harshly. 

Hardison plugged the drive into the side of his keyboard, a smile stretching his lips. “My man Roach, I salute you brother!” He said with an enthusiasm that, despite the fact that Roach was dead, made Embyr smile. He caught her gaze and bowed his head. “May you fly in the realm of the Cyber Gods forever.” He placed a fist over his heart and inclined his head before his fingers returned to his keyboard. Eliot snorted, muttering something under his breath about geeks, but the gesture made Embyr’s heart swell with appreciation. Hardison seemed to understand the depth of sacrifice Roach had made to get this data. He alone understood what this data truly meant. She turned to the monitors, where files downloaded at a rapid rate, ledgers and shipment manifests populating into full scale blueprints of the Gipson’s business. Embyr couldn’t help but return the gesture Hardison had made. “Good job, Roach. This’ll cut them down to size.” She murmured, her fist over her heart. Hardison’s fingers flew over the keys, sifting through the relevant data with lightning speed. Roach would have loved to have met him. She couldn’t help the thought, and fought to keep a strangled sound of grief at bay. It was her fault Roach was dead. Her fault that Lyssbie was dead. And there was nothing she could do to change that now. But she would do what needed to be done in order to avenge them. Even at the cost of her own life. 

Nate seemed to draw into himself as he watched the screens, the wheels turning as he formulated a plan. Odds were that with their run-in with the young lady sitting across the table from him, they would be unlikely to move any merchandise until they were sure that their client information was safe. They had no way of knowing what, if any, data was leaked, and without Daniel around to confirm or deny it, he knew that Gipsons would not take the risk. They weren’t total idiots after all. 

“Alright, here is the plan: we will have to use Embyr as bait, get them to relax enough to show us their other merchandise. Then we trace the money back to their accounts. Leak the information to the FBI, and take them down for good.” Nate announced. Eliot swiveled to stare Nate in the eye with a look that would have had any other man running for the hills. “Absolutely not.” He said flatly, his voice nearly a growl. The two men stared one another down, refusing to give an inch.

“I’ll do it.” Embyr said with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. Eliot’s piercing eyes snapped to hers. “I said no.” He affirmed. She sighed heavily. “Eliot, Nate is right. They aren’t going to move anyone or anything until they know they are secure. Right now they don’t know how much information I have, what information Roach was able to copy, nothing. You don’t move your diamonds shortly after stealing them. These guys are not amateurs.” Nate was impressed. His thoughts exactly. 

Eliot stared at her, his gaze hard as glass. “And what makes you think for one damn second that they won’t just shoot you on sight?” He snarled. She swallowed, his tone sending a cold shiver up her spine, but squared her shoulders. She had to prove to him that she wasn’t afraid. That she wasn’t some wilting flower. That she wouldn’t be swayed on this matter. “I’m a woman, for one thing. And for another, Skullface is not the kind of man to let the embarrassment of you decimating his entire crew stand. He will keep me alive, even if only to torture me into revealing your location so he can kill you himself.” She fought to keep her voice steady, nonchalant as she discussed her own kidnapping, torture, and possibly even her eventual death. But Lyssbie wouldn’t have backed down. Would not have squirmed when this was what needed to be done. 

Eliot and Embyr stared at each other for a long time. “This might be our only chance to bring them and all of their clients down. Isn’t that worth the risk?” Her words were a thunderclap on Eliot’s ears. Not to me… His mind screamed. Not to me. But he did not voice these words. Instead, he sighed. “I don’t like this one bit.” He muttered. Embyr smiled. “I’ll be fine. Before anything else, these guys are businessmen. They won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Eliot sighed heavily, stood, then turned on his heel and headed for the door. “I need a drink.” He said over his shoulder as he went. Embyr’s smile faded as he vanished from view. “Does he usually drink while on a job?” She asked the others. There was a universal shaking of heads. “Not unless it is some kind of party situation, no. Eliot is very particular about when and where he drinks.” Sophie explained. 

Embyr’s expression faltered. “I guess he is really worried about this situation then. I hope I didn’t upset him. But I can’t just sit by and do nothing. I thought he would understand that.” She said, a slight tremor in her voice. Sophie didn’t argue that he was more worried about her than the situation, because the truth of it had been written all over the Hitter’s face. Embyr stood. “I think I need the little girl’s room.” She said casually, looking to Nate for direction. “Down the hall and to the left.” He replied. Sophie stood as well. “Here, I’ll show you.” She offered. Embyr smiled gratefully, as she was still a little wobbly on her legs. “Thank you.” She replied as the two women disappeared around the corner.

”Am I going to be the only one to address the heart-shaped elephant in the room?” Hardison’s eyes swept the remaining crew. Parker frowned. “Elephants aren’t heart-shaped Hardison.” She said, the silent ‘Duh’ heavily implied by her tone. Hardison’s face soured into a scowl. “I know that Parker, what I mean is ‘did anyone else see the way Eliot looks at Embyr’?” Nate stood, reaching again for his tumbler of whiskey. “It’s none of our business Hardison. Focus on the case please.” Hardison’s scowl deepened. “I am focused on the case. It’s because I’m focused on the case that I have to wonder if we are doing this because it is the right thing to do, or because Eliot wants to look like a hero.” Nate took a long draw from his glass. “Do you need another reason other than the fact that they are human traffickers that likely have the law in their pocket?” He asked, his voice level. Hardison looked away. “No, I suppose not.” He replied. Nate shrugged as he headed for the door. “Then the rest doesn’t matter.” 

Eliot realized his mistake as soon as he reached the ground floor of the office building. He had made a promise to Embyr that he wouldn’t leave her side today. But the very suggestion of using her to bait the Gipsons into the open had his blood boiling. He did not just spend the last five days taking care of her to feed her to the wolves like that. However, he couldn’t deny that he did understand the merit of Nate’s plan. If they could somehow convince the Gipsons that they were safe…then maybe they could save more than the two dozen girls Hardison had seen on the traffic cams. He paused at the front door, sighing. If it had been him in Embyr’s position, he couldn’t say with conviction that he wouldn’t be willing to do the same thing. And besides, she had him and the team for backup. That thought eased his worry a fraction. There was still a chance that Victor Gipson would shoot her on sight just to tie up a loose end, and while that thought didn’t sit well with him, it was a risk they would have to take. In that regard, Embyr was right.

He turned back for the elevator, taking several calming breaths to ground himself. This was going to be a very trying job, and he needed all of his wits about him. 

[klonoafan5]

while there are another characters that gives me levi vibes for various reasons, there is one in particular that i would like to mention.

jonathan sims, head archivist of the magnus institute.

granted levi and jon are not entirely similar, what with the difference in background and world, but as the first campaign continued and levi’s backstory was slowly revealed to me i couldn’t help but feel that way.

further explaination below the cut (spoilers for tma btw - i know majority of the people here are caught up but just in case)

they’re protagonists who become victims of mental manipulation caused by their respective antagonists

jon being controlled by “elias” to perform the watcher’s crown against his will, levi getting his mind tampered with and his memories sealed by “zegal”

2. they’re hopeless romantics and absolute idiots when with their partners (said love is their strength but also their weakness)

jon with martin, levi with selki

3. they have no concept of self preservation whatsoever

i can think of so many moments with jon, levi? HOO BOY

helping people out after just barely surviving a fight multiple times

nearly shattered a shard of glass that held a piece of a god whose power is the magical equivalent of a nuke to scare zegal (it worked)

stabbed himself with said shard thinking that his body would absorb their power so zegal wouldn’t get his hands on it (it didn’t work but he did get a chance to talk to said god for a moment)

being willing to punish himself if he does something he thinks is wrong (losing control of himself and/or his devil magic and hurting someone in the process, upsetting someone, getting someone hurt or killed by his actions and decisions, breaking a promise)

being willing to die if it means the future would be brighter and the people he loves are safe

throwing himself in front of someone to defend them from magical arrows

swooping in to save a kid from a monster without a second thought & attempting to rush into a army by himself while none of his teammates were watching

4. they have the tendencies to seeing themselves as ‘monsters’ and are the first to blame themselves for things that weren’t their fault

jon develops this later on, levi does too (he does stop towards the end of part 1 and gets better in between parts, but now he’s doing it again)

5. being willing to jump into places that can and will mess with their minds to save their partner

jon going into the lonely to save martin, levi journeying into the abyss to save selki (and icarus’ ex gf now friend tris)

6. they have connections to god like beings

jon with the beholding, levi has quite a bit (the raven queen, torm, oberon) but mainly two

his pact with zariel (they’re also related)

his bond with toto (aka the original sin aka the god i mentioned earlier)

7. they have glowing eyes and do cool voices when they channel their more godlike side and/or their powers take over

jon with his archivist powers, levi with his celestial instincts

oh and one more thing

they’re both their gods' special little boys and their universes’ favorite punching bag

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[book-of-yanderes]

Hi, I can have an idea for yandere!Alucard x reader. We can have Alucard rescuing reader, who is severally injuried by other vampires. The only other option is tp turn reader to a vampire. I don't mind gore.

Turned

Word Count: 672

Warnings: Gore, blood, murder, mentions of torture

Author's Note: This is gender neutral, and I am bending hellsing rules on how vampires turn based on your sex. In this, you just have to be a virgin to be turned into a vampire.

---

Where were you?

You were trusted enough to be let out. Alucard knew you wouldn’t defy him.

After all, you did say you love him.

You wouldn’t lie, would you?

The king ground his teeth in frustration. You were to be back at Hellsing manor hours ago. You should’ve been in his arms this instant, him savoring your quickened heartbeat from how he would tease you to no end. To feel the warmth of your human flesh and how your smaller hands would wrap around his arms.

Just where the hell were you?

He had enough.

Alucard rose from his lone seat, long legs getting him to the stairs in mere minutes. His gaze stayed hidden behind his orange lenses, masking the dark glower over his eyes. In only a few seconds he disappeared into the night, his body turning to a large black mask of bat familiars.

Everywhere he knew you’d usually be, you weren’t.

Just where the hell did you run off to?

This wasn’t like you. To run off and be out of your norm.

But oh, he now smelled you.

The blood he loved, the blood he enjoyed drinking straight after you would make a slice on your flesh just for him.

For you to be bleeding, this wasn’t right.

He followed your sweet trail, the dark mass that he was chasing the scent he held dear. He would find you, that was for certain.

Droplets, that was the first thing he saw as your scent grew closer. Soon it was smeared.

And then it stopped.

Alucard halted, having picked up on other presences in the area.

Other vampires.

A growl came from deep within him. How DARE these fleas go after you. Chase you and harm you. To spill your life out so needlessly.

They were going to pay.

He went towards the presence, the only red in his vision being that of intended murder.

One fell as he came through, driving a hand through the vampire’s skull. Alucard then manifested back into his usual form, pulling .454 Casull out as he turned and faced his next victim. No smile danced on his face as he took out another worthless wannabe. This would’ve been entertaining if they hadn’t targeted you.

Within moments, all the vampires that had harmed you were dead. All on the ground and blood spilling to stain the grass red. With them gone, he looked towards where you scent heavily came from, seeing your battered and destroyed form.

Fury still burned within Alucard as he rushed to your side and went to pull you up into his arms. Your heavily delayed response only confirmed what he was dreading.

You were dying.

Instead of being eaten, the vampires had played with you, tortured you into a game of chase and to hear you scream. Using you as a game to entertain themselves. Multiple lethal wounds scattered around your body, some reaching past muscle and to the bone.

You could barely feel pain anymore. It was ebbing away as your vision faded at the corners of your eyes. At least you could die in the arms of the beast that loved you, right?

“I’m not losing you…” Alucard muttered into your neck, almost biting you then and there. But he stopped, knowing it should be your choice, no matter how much he wanted you to stay alive. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

Your one hand that still could move made its way slowly up his arm, weakly holding his shoulder before you mustered enough strength to lift it to his face. When Alucard pulled back to look into your eyes, he could see the fire in them, the drive you kept going.

Your lips connected together, the vampire licking your lips hungrily before breaking it and kissing down your jawline. Kisses and sensual licks continued down onto your throat, the desire to bite into you making Alucard’s fangs burn in hunger.

He bit you. Deeply.

This is what he wanted.

An eternity with you.

[izanactrl]

third’s times the charm

pairings : izana x reader

☆ — a bit ooc! fluff, comfort for the first two scenarios. angst , major character death for the third scenario. the scenarios takes place in the canon tr universe! cw : jail , gambling, death, violence , tell me if there’s more!

★ — author note : i’m finally back and i’m out of writers block! sorry for the lack of content these past 2 months, i haven’t been in a good place mentally + i’ve lost interest in tr for a while, but im back again <3 enjoy this izana fic ive been thinking about lately!

the first time you’ve met izana was in prison. it wasn’t anything special. that’s what you tell yourself whenever you think of the few months you stayed there.

in all honesty, it was a lonely and dry experience. there wasn’t any thrill like there was in the outside world, it felt isolating. for the first month, things passed by. the people in your cell too kept their distance.

you hated the place. you hated how controlling this place was. you hated how there was no thrills, no excitement, nothing interesting. until you met him.

izana kurokawa. he was a enigma. he looked through you so well, from your attacks to your thoughts. just like that. in a way, both of you were a reflection of each other. a mirror recognises its image after all.

it was the first you’ve ever felt seen. and it was by izana kurokawa.

the second time you’ve met izana was when he recruited you as a member for his new gang — tenjiku. at this point, it’s been months, no maybe years since the both of you met due to the early release you’ve had compared to izana.

it was strange. you’ve never been the strongest or one to have displayed any intelligence in prison either. you’ve merely met him because of the illegal gathering of gambling — one you wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of, should your friend have not left only you at the scene of.

you wanted to ask, but you know deep down that some questions are better left unsaid. so you left it at that. you took the uniform, and dor the first time, you swear your heart skipped a beat.

a unfamiliar feeling. you noted. it wasn’t the same feeling as you had when you gambled your life away, it wasn’t the same feeling you felt when you first tried stunts that fuelled your thrill loving nature. it was something different, but yet all the same.

at the second time you’ve met izana kurokawa, you’ve already fallen in love.

the third time you’ve met him, was in the tenjiku fight.

you’ve never really been one to participate in fights due to your lack of both your strength and intellect to win one.

despite that, izana didn’t mind it. instead, you were allowed to just simply watch. you’ve felt included but yet insecure. the people in tenjiku weren’t like regular kids in school that fight — they were ones who possess extraordinary abilities.

you’ve eventually dozed off, only awakening when the first bullet was shot. you’ve been introduced to him by izana — his name was kisaki tetta. and he had just shot a enemy in the foot.

you didn’t know if you should have felt terror at the weapon he held, or should you have felt thrill that the fight was getting more intense — as what izana felt based on his facial expression alone.

the first time kisaki shot the gun, you’ve felt nothing. as bad as it sounds, you wanted to tell yourself that it was fine. after all, the victim seems to not be hurt and instead insists another shot to the head.

the second time kisaki fired the bullets, it was terror. terror filled your senses. your eyes saw the vision of one of the members of tenjiku get shot, and izana rushing to shield him.

maybe it was the terror, maybe it was the adrenaline flowing through your blood. you jumped down from the seat, and rushed towards the gun.

you’ve never been one who’s intelligent, nor were you someone blessed with special fighting skills. you’ve merely been nothing more than someone who takes the burden without any complaints, you’ve merely been the scapegoat.

the third time you’ve met him, you’ve sacrificed your life to save izana kurokawa.



[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hello 🧸 i really enjoy reading your alice in borderland writings and just wanted to say that your writing is ✨immaculate✨ hope you keep up the good work!also, i wanted to request something where the reader is this badass/genius at the beach and niragi and chishiya can’t help but be attracted to her and so they try to pursue her both. but even though she acts tough on the outside she does like them back and the rest is up to you if that’s alright~

Thank you so much! That just made my day. 😊 And of course, here you go! 

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya, Niragi (Aguni, Kuina, OC)

Summary: You are a new member of The Beach with a harsh attitude and a strong personality. Chishiya and Niragi can’t help but be a little bit lovestruck.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, blood, stalking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 3.5k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I planned to fit this all into one part but it got a bit too long and I still have more to write. I’m so sorry I left it at a cliffhanger but I promise I’ll upload Part 2 before you know it!

Gifs Credit

It had all begun when Aguni had brought you back to The Beach.

You were a particularly strong woman, both on the inside and the outside. You didn’t hesitate in games to do what needed to be done to survive. And best of all, you were on your own. He thought you would be a perfect little guinea pig to add to the pile back at The Beach to help collect cards.

Aguni had found you at a heart’s game, a game of betrayal. He noticed you at registration, believing that you would be killed off within the first few minutes. But he got a great surprise to see that you gave up other player’s lives without hesitation. At least you knew how to survive in the Borderlands, no friends, no one to betray.

He followed you for a while after the game, trying to find the right moment to grab you and place the black bag over your head. You noticed him following you a few times, so you kept your guard up.

But eventually, he used his strength against you and knocked you out with a few hits to the head. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you black out.

He didn’t want to take any chances. After seeing your strength and skills conveyed at the hearts game, he didn’t want to risk becoming injured or even killed by you.

After being brought back, Aguni spoke highly of you in the meeting room, causing Hatter to move you to a higher number than most. You were annoyed if anything, you were doing completely fine by yourself. Why did these people have to drag you into their selfish and chaotic dynamic?

You were rather cold-hearted towards everyone, being upset about becoming a part of all this mess. You felt like a soldier in a meaningless war. You didn’t want to put all your energy into your games just to let one person leave this hell. Everyone seemed blinded by it, didn’t they realize they were believing empty promises?

*************

On one of your first nights at The Beach, you had been sitting at a booth nearby the pool by yourself. You enjoyed watching people acting like drunken idiots, it was entertaining to you. Sipping your drink and laughing at people getting pushed into the water had become one of your favourite pastimes, since there didn’t seem to be much else to do other than drink or dance.

This was when Niragi first approached you.

A sudden arm slung around your shoulders like a snake. You whipped your head around harshly, receiving a fright from the action. A young man with several silver piercings in his face had decided he had the audacity to make himself comfortable right next to you. Well, technically it felt like he was sitting right on top of you he was that close.

You furrowed your eyebrows roughly at him but didn’t move, just staring at him with a surprised look on your face.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re looking awfully lonely,” he began, leaning his face much closer to yours. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m sitting over there with a few of my friends. I would love it if you could join us.”

You could tell this guy had never been rejected before, his ego was so large it oozed off his words like a bad smell. You put a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look sorry… whatever your name is. You’re being real fucking annoying right now,” you said, being straight forward with him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t appreciate his confidence. But there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and this man seemed to be right in between the two.

He sat up and off you with a shocked look on his face. “Are you sure you want to be saying that to me?” he said in an annoyed tone. You watched as he cocked his pierced eyebrow upwards, being interested in how you would answer.

You gave a big sarcastic smile and giggled. “Yeah, you’re nothing special sweetheart. Thanks for ruining my peace and quiet.” You stood up out of your seat and his arm slid off your shoulder. He watched you in shock as you strutted away from the booth, making your way to the bar nearby. You didn’t want to argue with a man who just so obviously wanted to get into your pants. You weren’t going to give into anyone that easy.

Niragi let out a big breath and smirked as he checked you out from the booth. “Hopefully no one saw that.” He said to himself.

No girl had ever rejected him so harshly before. You didn’t know who he was? Did no one tell you?

Your harsh remark to his attempted flirting struck a chord within him. He felt his heartstrings pull tight in his chest. That attitude of yours really hit him.

I mean, who wouldn’t love to play a game of cat and mouse? Because the vibe you were giving off to Niragi gave him the idea that you would love to play a little chase game of emotions with him.

***********

Chishiya’s meeting with you would have been rather bizarre. He met you at a game because you were assigned to the same group as him for one night.

During the drive on the way there, you kept glancing your eyes over to the mysterious figure. He sat quietly in his seat, hood over his head and earbuds in his ears. He wore all white, reminding you of a ghost.

The game was a four of clubs. Pretty easy for someone like you, or so you thought.

It was held in an apartment block that reached twelve levels high. The aim of the game was to find the safe zone to disengage the bomb within the time limit and without being ‘tagged’ by the tagger.

During the first five minutes of the game, you tried your hardest to remain alone, but a young man who didn’t have any idea what he was doing followed you around from registration. He seemed to be a new player, so after a while you decided to tolerate him. He could be used as a shield from the tagger if worse came to worse.

As you made your way around the levels, checking every door and looking around every corner, you heard rapid gunshots every now and then. It made your heart drop every time you heard it just below you or just above you.

At some point you watched as you saw the tagger take aim at someone who was on a different level. You watched as the young man ducked down to avoid being killed, bullet holes shredding into the wall next to him in the process.

You frowned. Why did the tagger attack him so far away? Every victim has been on the same floor as him when he kills them.

Then it hit you: he was trying to protect the door that the young man was attempting to open. That must have been the safe space.

You and the new player that remained with you made your way down a few levels to the door that the tagger had been shooting to. There had to be something there, he wouldn’t aim from that far if he didn’t want that door opened.

As you arrived, the tagger and the young man gone, you were about to open the door before you heard a voice call from further down the balcony.

The mysterious figure from the car was there, strutting along the path like he owned the place. You kept your hand on the door handle and looked at him to see what he had to say.

“Are you sure you want to open that?” he gloated, smiling slightly and stopping just next to you. You looked him up and down. He had a shorter stature than you expected.

“I was planning on it,” you remarked, jiggling the door handle in your grasp. It was unlocked, unlike all the other doors you had tried. This must have been the safe zone.

The figure tucked his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and raised his eyebrows while scanning the door up and down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the tagger didn’t just stand in front of it?” he said.

You thought for a second. He had a point, but you didn’t have time to think logically at that moment. The game phone in your pocket beeped and announced that there was only five minutes remaining.

“Look I’ll just open it slowly. But we must hurry because we won’t know how long I could take to disengage the bomb,” you said matter-of-factly.

The man nodded and stood behind you so he could see what was through the door when you opened it. You breathed out heavily and slowly turned the door handle to peep inside.

The room blossomed with light as soon as you opened the door. It seemed normal enough, except there was another door on the other side of the room that led to a lit-up area.

“That must be the safe zone,” you breathed out, relieved. “Must be,” the figure repeated.

A sudden deafening sound filled the air behind you and you both whipped your head around to see the new player that had followed you lying on the ground with several holes in his chest. You felt blood splatter onto your face from the impact, shifting your eyes upwards just to see the tagger at the end of the hallway, quickly storming their way down towards you and the man.

“Shit!” you screamed. “No time to waste!”

You pulled open the door completely, and before Chishiya could even think quick enough, you grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and tugged him inside harshly.

He stumbled from the sudden movement and ended up falling on top of you from the force, managing to kick the door shut with his foot in the process.

You groaned underneath him. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You weren’t moving so I didn’t have a choice.”

He chuckled above you and pushed his arms against the ground to stand himself up and off you. “No worries, I could never be mad at someone for saving my life.”

 *************

You thought that both of those encounters with the strange young men would be your last, but apparently not.

You began being put in the same games as Chishiya more often, eventually forming a bond with him and always teaming up together during games. He introduced you to his friend Kuina, who you became rather close as time went on.

Although you still preferred your time alone greatly, there was always a certain someone who would disturb your peace and quiet.

Niragi would take any opportunity to annoy you, whether it be in the hallways when you’re on your way to bed where he would back you up against a wall and try to make you feel threatened, or whether it be out at the pool when you were by yourself. People would stare at you both as he sat with you and tried to make it seem like to the public that you were together, which was quite embarrassing.

He would never leave you alone, and at some points you began to believe that he was stalking you. He managed to find you everywhere, so it wouldn’t be an outrageous claim.

Chishiya however you found a lot more likeable.

He was subtle, kind of making sly comments about his attraction to you every now and then. You appreciated him trying to hide it more rather than being too open about it like Niragi. It made you more interested in the intelligent and mysterious man.

Chishiya at times though would come across as rather overprotective. That was the only thing you had a problem with, because out of all people he would know that you can handle yourself simply fine.

Sometimes in games together, he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay away from potential death. At times he would drag you around like a ragdoll just so you stay beside him. It became quite annoying, but you dealt with it anyway. You did not want to offend or upset him.

**********

Niragi leant against the hallway wall just outside your bedroom door. He was waiting for you to get changed so he could take you down to the bar and have a few drinks with you. You did not know he was outside though, he kind of just saw you after you arrived back from your game and followed you.

As he fiddled with his rifle to kill time, he heard a small pitter-patter of feet just down the hall from him. He glanced upwards to see none other than Chishiya making his way up the carpet towards him.

Both exchanged confused looks, until Niragi’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and he ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip slowly like a snake.

“What’s a blondy like you doing here?” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder in its usual position.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows, conveying his usual confident expression on his face. “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, walking further towards Niragi.

Niragi chuckled deeply then spoke. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Really? Giving them a fright before their execution. That’s quite low Niragi even for you.” Chishiya’s smile never left his face.

Niragi threw his head back and cackled. “No actually, quite the opposite really. I’m waiting to take her down to the pool.”

Chishiya widened his eyes in shock. “Her? Hm. I never took you as the romantic type,” he teased.

“I’m not. I’m more of the ‘follow you around until you pay attention to me’ type,” Niragi admitted. Chishiya let out a small laugh at his comment.

“Seems more like you.”

Chishiya walked further towards Niragi who remained close to your door. He watched in confusion as Chishiya reached his hand out towards the door handle to open it, but before he could, Niragi whipped his hand quickly over it to stop him.

“What are you doing?” Niragi said in a tense voice, so contrasting to the somewhat light-hearted one he had just a moment ago.

Chishiya pulled his hand back slowly and looked up into Niragi’s darkened eyes. “Going into this room? What else would I be doing?”

“But this is Y/N’s room,” Niragi argued, standing in front of the door so Chishiya couldn’t get inside.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? So? I need to talk to her.”

Niragi leaned down closer to him with a frown painted on his face. “About what?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “None of your business you creep. Why are you standing in front of Y/N’s room like a guard dog anyway?”

“She’s the one I’m taking down to the bar.”

Chishiya’s heart dropped. There’s no way you’ve been with Niragi, you weren’t dumb enough to become involved with the psychotic militants.

“Wait no. She told me that she was going to spend some time with me and Kuina after the games.”

Silence filled the air between them. Neither of them knew what to say, but the rising tension between them became stronger each second.

“Does she know you’re here?” Chishiya asked out of the blue.

“Does she know you’re here?” Niragi fired back, avoiding his question.

Another awkward silence before Niragi spoke. “Look, you better not get involved with her more than you already have. She’s mine so you stay away from her,” he threatened Chishiya, walking towards him causing the shorter man to take a step back.

“Oh, you want me to stay away? You are standing outside her bedroom door with a rifle over your shoulder. Do you really think she’ll learn to like you?”

“At least she can trust me, you fucking manipulative snake.”

“She’d probably be terrified you’d put several bullets through her Niragi. Why don’t you think logically and leave her alone? It would save her the suffering of having to deal with you!”

“What? So, you can gaslight your way into her trust? At least I am straight forward Chishiya, you’d do nothing but lie and use her for your own personal gain like the fucking selfish brat you are!”

“No, at least I wouldn’t view her as nothing but a toy to play with. You know she doesn’t like you, so why the fuck do you keep trying?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I won’t! I am not going to let you weasel your way into her life and put her on display like some trophy to show off to everyone! Just leave her the fuck alone and stop following her around! It’s really fucking pathetic of you!”

Chishiya suddenly flew back into the wall behind him, creating a large bang that echoed down the halls. Niragi had kicked him square in the chest backwards. He let out a satisfied laugh.

“Look at you! You can’t even defend yourself! What makes you think that you could keep me away from Y/N?!”

Chishiya sat up from his position on the floor and let out a loud groan. His spine was screaming in pain, making him stumble before finally standing on his two feet.

Niragi didn’t even give him time to breath before he punched him across the jaw, making his head whip sideways and fall back against the wall. Niragi gripped one hand in his blonde hair roughly while another clutched the collar of his hoodie.

Chishiya yelped in pain, not being able to fight back. He didn’t bring any weapons to help himself, he did not expect to be in this situation when he left his room to come to yours.

Niragi leaned close to his face which was scrunched up in pain. “I dare you to try and keep me away. Because nothing comes between me and what I want, no matter what it is.” He spat harshly in his face, narrowly missing Chishiya’s eye.

He let loose of Chishiya’s white hair, causing him to fall to the carpeted ground. “I guess I’ll meet up with her another time, when there aren’t any rats around to trip on,” Niragi chuckled and turned to make his way down the hall towards the staircase at the end.

‘What wonderful timing Y/N would have if she came out just now,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

As if he had predicted the future, you busted out of your room harshly, almost tripping in the process. You locked eyes with Chishiya, who had blood pouring out his nose while seated against the wall opposite your door.

“Oh my god! Chishiya! The fuck happened to you?!” you exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling in front of him.  “I heard a loud bang outside and came out to see what it was. Was someone else here?”

Chishiya grabbed the hand that you offered to him to help him up. He groaned as you lifted him to a standing position, only for him to fall forwards onto you from sudden nausea that hit him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him upright while he placed his chin on your collarbone.

“Just forget about it. I’m okay, just a little scratched up,” he tried to deflect your question. “I had a really rough game and I tripped over just then. Smacking my nose on the ground didn’t help much.” He was surprised with himself about how quick he covered up what happened. He felt quite embarrassed being beaten up by someone as dumb as Niragi, so he didn’t want to tell you.

You laughed a little bit, the happy sound warming Chishiya’s heart. “You’re such an idiot. How do you manage to survive all these games while being so clumsy?”

Chishiya smiled. The fact that you cared about him outweighed the throbbing pain of his developing bruise on his jaw. He brought a hand up to his nose and wiped along it, soaking up the small bit of blood in his sleeve.

“You still want to go see Kuina?” he asked you, pulling away from you and looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah of course!” you exclaimed excitedly. “I was thinking we go down to the pool for a while. We can sit in a corner somewhere and chat,” you suggested.

Chishiya nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we then?” he said teasingly.

You laughed and began walking while leaving him hanging. “Maybe one day I’ll hold your hand, but not today.”

Chishiya chuckled and jogged to catch up with you. As you walked side by side, he secretly hoped that Niragi wouldn’t be down at the pool, preparing to start trouble the moment he sees Chishiya with you.

Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side that night.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

And Tomorrow, Too.

I'm back!

Much love and many thanks to @stinastar @hailhailsatan @newnamesamecharlotte and @veritasrose for helping me yank this thing out of my brain!

Please enjoy this hurt/comfort that ends with glorious, glorious fluff.

TW: Blood, canon typical injury, infection

Jaskier was having a very rough day, objectively speaking.

He’d just finished dressing after a dip in the river when a lone bandit surprised him, shoving him to the dirt and kicking him in the ribs to keep him down. Having dealt with a gut-punch from a Witcher, Jaskier had recovered faster than anticipated and tackled the stranger to the ground.

“Foolish troubadour,” the bandit snarled. There was the quick flash of something silver and a sudden white-hot pain shot up the bard’s side from his hip to his ribcage.

“Shit,” Jaskier gasped, clutching desperately at his slashed doublet. The panicked bandit scooped up the largest of the bard’s travel bags and darted into the woods, leaving his bloodied weapon lying atop a pile of leaves beside his victim. When Jaskier pulled his hand away from the wound on his ribcage he grimaced; that was more blood than he’d been hoping to see. “Fucking cock.”

After he stripped to the waist and rinsed off in the river a second time, Jaskier took inventory of himself. The cut started at his left hip and slid up his ribcage to just beneath his left shoulder, and it was practically impossible to bandage; any attempt to wrap the upper half of his injury made him bite his lip to keep from screaming in anguish.

It was agony to move more than a few inches in either direction, since the twisting motion pulled at his torn skin and stung like hellfire. All he could really do was apply a loose poultice of chewed mint leaves to ward against infection and tie his shirt around his torso in lieu of a bandage. His cloak would have to work even harder than usual to keep him warm until Geralt arrived.

“Alright, well,” he muttered to no one as he accounted for the rest of his scattered clothing and supplies. “I need to find somewhere to rest and gather what wits I still possess… somewhere that’s still close enough for Geralt to find me. Shit, this isn’t good.”

The bard thanked every god he knew when he managed to find a small cave less than a hundred yards from the enormous oak tree where he met Geralt every year. He limped his remaining belongings into the slightly cramped space and deposited them against the left wall.

---

Fortunately for Jaskier, the idiot bandit had declared his beautiful elven lute “too bulky and annoying to carry”, and had left Sexy well enough alone. Unfortunately, the ruffian had still made off with all the bard’s coin from at least two months’ worth of contracted performances, most of his medical supplies, and most of his rations, as well.

But Jaskier had spent years at Geralt’s side and the Witcher had taught him how to deal with emergencies of every variety. Jaskier wasn’t about to disappoint his companion by flailing about ineffectively like some noble-born dunce at a time like this. No, Jaskier was determined to be healthy and ready to travel again by the time Geralt arrived in Kaedwen to find him. They only had a week or two together before they separated again for the winter and he wasn’t going to lose a single precious second in Geralt’s presence due to some silly highwayman.

Lovelorn fool that he was.

The bard used his remaining strength to gather a few armfuls of firewood and light some dried leaves with his flint and steel. He laid out his bedroll against the back wall so that he could see clearly if anyone approached from outside and wrapped his arms around Sexy to keep her safe. He re-wrapped his wound with more crushed mint and laid down to try and get some sleep.

Hopefully Geralt would arrive soon with his medical supplies and more water.

Hopefully.

---

After two long days spent huddled in a miserable lump at the back of the cave, anxiously scanning the horizon for any sign of another bandit (or Geralt) and unable to gather food or kindling, Jaskier was exhausted from lack of sleep. The wound in his side ached and burned far worse than it had on that first afternoon, aggravated by sweat and debris that had crept through his makeshift bandages.

Any added pressure around the edges of the cut made the skin nearly creak with the building strain of infection. He whimpered involuntarily every time he took a breath and trembled at any shift in the autumn breeze. It seemed as if his very bones were aching as his body flashed between the white-hot and freezing cold of a raging fever.

Slowly, and with a great effort on the part of his illness, Jaskier succumbed to the injury and sank into the quiet warmth of unconsciousness.

---

“Jaskier?” Geralt called, guiding Roach around another circuit of the old oak tree. “Are you there, Jaskier? We need to make it to the fork in the Pontar before the harvest ends and I’m in no mood for practical jokes.”

Nothing.

All his Witcher hearing picked up on were leaves twitching in the wind and a few rabbits foraging off to his left. Not even Jaskier could stay so still, even for a joke; his heartbeat and the uptick in his breathing would give him dead away.

“Well, I’m going to town.”

Geralt was about to wheel Roach back toward the road in search of a nearby inn when he caught a whiff of something on the wind - something that sent his heart plummeting into his boots.

Blood.

Jaskier’s blood. And it wasn’t fresh.

He dropped silently from the saddle and gave the signal for Roach to stay put. After a few careful breaths and some shuffling through the autumn leaves, Geralt discovered the bandit’s discarded dagger, still rusty-red around the tip and left edge.

“Fuck! Jaskier!” Geralt called, glancing around the small copse in the woods. “Jaskier, where are you!?”

The Witcher closed his eyes and tilted his head back to better clear his airways. He took a deep breath in through his nose and focused every one of his heightened senses on locating the bard. There it was again to his right, but slightly stronger. “Fucking hells.”

Geralt did his best to follow the trail without panicking. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he lost his head while the bard was in mortal danger. If the bard was in mortal danger, he tried to reassure himself.

But if Jaskier had recovered he would have been waiting at the oak. Geralt knew that. He knew it with every fiber of his being, though he wouldn’t admit anything aloud. Jaskier’s long autumn absence had already set him on edge when he’d caught the blood-smell. “Gods-dammit, bard. Please be alive. Please, Jaskier, I can’t-”

Geralt bit his tongue and continued to follow the bard’s weak scent into the woods. After too many minutes - perhaps five or six at the speed Geralt was moving - the Witcher reached a small cave. The mouth of said cave was nearly covered-over with dry leaves and Geralt could tell, even from this distance, that Jaskier was not faring well at all. The whole area smelled like rot. Like decay. If it weren’t for the bard’s fluttering heartbeat echoing faintly from within the tiny cavern, the Witcher would have fallen to his knees and wept with despair at his untimely death.

When Geralt ducked inside and reached to pull Jaskier into his arms, the bard struggled weakly. “No, please,” he rasped. “D-Don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jaskier,” Geralt replied softly. He shifted the thick leather strap of Sexy’s case over his shoulder and hefted the bard into his arms in one swift movement. Those usually brilliant blue eyes looked up at him in utter confusion. The irises were dull and foggy with sickness; the Witcher’s heart lurched in his chest and he turned back to the path, doubling his speed in his hurry to reach Roach. “You don’t have to worry any more, sweet Julek. I’m going to get you to safety.”

“If you must kill me-” Jaskier continued, muttering frantically as if Geralt hadn’t said anything at all “-then p-please do me one last f-favor. I need you to p-please find a Witcher. F-Find the White Wolf. Tell h-him… Tell him that I…”

Then the weight in Geralt’s arms seemed to increase by a fraction and the bard went silent. The Witcher shook the sweating, shaking bundle in his arms but Jaskier remained quiet.

“What do you want to tell him, Jaskier?” Geralt glanced down. His eyebrows furrowed deeply when he realized the human had fallen unconscious. The hummingbird pace of Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat began to hammer even faster and his breaths were far too shallow. The Witcher rumbled out a determined, desperate plea the universe to save his darling songbird, followed by a quiet but emphatic, “Fuck.”

---

“Eskel!” Geralt kicked down the door to the kitchen of Kaer Morhen with one solid boot. He hadn't slept in two days and his body ached from sprinting up the path with a full-grown man in his arms. “Eskel, Vesemir, please!”

“Fuck, is that Geralt!?” Eskel came whipping around one corner at a sprint. Lambert and Vesemir were close behind, Lambert with a sword drawn and a scowl on his face. He lowered it when he saw that Geralt wasn't being pursued.

“Please, Ves, Eskel, please, help him to survive because I can’t- I can’t-” the White Wolf, for all his bravado and stoicism, was panting furiously. His kinsmen knew that he'd be crying if he had the capability to do so and crowded closer to help. Geralt immediately handed a warm, damp bundle to his Eskel with incredible gentleness and care. He looked up at the slightly taller Witcher and begged with all the strength he had left: “Please. I can't let him die.”

---

Jaskier woke up with a sharp gasp. His side radiated a dull, persistent kind of agony and he felt sick to his stomach. With a low groan he turned to retch off the side of the bed, into a conveniently placed bucket. He shouted when the movement made his wound ache all the more. “Fuck!”

The bard heard a heavy thud from his left followed by some clattering and a quietly whispered, “Shit.”

“G’ralt?”

“Jaskier!” the Witcher appeared at his side in a flash. Geralt leaned over him with a damp cloth in hand and wiped at the corners of his mouth. “You’re alive! Melitele be thanked. Do you need to be sick again? Would you like some water?”

“You’re o-oddly verbose,” Jaskier managed to half-smile.

“Was worried.”

“There’s my monosyllabic Witcher,” the bard grinned through his blinding pain. “It hurts, Geralt. Rather terribly.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t- We’re all Witchers so it’s not…” Geralt sighed and turned away to rinse the cloth in a bowl of cool water that had been resting on the sill. “We didn’t know which kind of herbs were safe for humans and which weren’t.”

“We?”

“How’s the patient?”

Jaskier's snapped to the doorway and his body automatically jerked in surprise. He whimpered at the reaction it elicited from his injury, his ribs blooming with a sharp sting. “Shit!”

“Fuck!” the red-headed man in the door replied, slamming his hands over his face. “I’m so sorry. Shit in the fucking nine hells.”

“Uh…”

“Jaskier, this is my brother Lambert. Lambert… This is Jaskier.”

“Ah yes,” the shorter Witcher smirked. “I’ve heard so much about you, Master Jaskier.”

“That I’m a royal pain in the ass?”

“Quite the opposite, really. In fact, when the two of you arrived, Geralt was nearly-”

Lambert’s statement was interrupted by a small wooden bowl to the side of the head, chucked across the room by a grim-faced Geralt.

“Nevermind. Anyway, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll let the others know that he's no longer going hand-to-hand with Death.”

“Others?” Jaskier glanced between Geralt and Lambert with wide, confused eyes. “Am I… Am I in Kaer Morhen!?”

“Aye,” Lambert winked. “And you slept through the first two days of snowfall, so I’m afraid to inform you that you’re stuck at Kaer Morhen for the rest of this season. I’ll let you and Geralt hash the rest of the details out in private. Tootles, Buttercup.”

And just as suddenly as Lambert had appeared, he was gone.

The bard turned to make eye contact with the White Wolf and blinked owlishly. “Wh-What did he mean about being here all winter?”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t lying,” Geralt returned to the stool beside Jaskier’s bed and sat down slowly, as if waiting for Jaskier to order him out of the room entirely. “Your injury was heavily infected and you were close to death when I found you in that cave at the base of the mountains. I ran the Killer in two days instead of one and brought you to Eskel and Vesemir for healing; they were the closest people I could think of who knew what to do to save you. I’m so sorry for trapping you here for the season when you should be teaching and composing in Oxenfurt. If you’d like, I can try to contact Yen or Triss and have them portal you back to the University before Yule.”

“Nobody would want to inconvenience a sorceress on their behalf,” Jaskier answered. "Myself included."

“So you don’t mind staying?”

Jaskier glanced up through his lashes, more self-conscious than Geralt had ever seen him before. “Were you really worried about me dying? Did you really carry me up the path all by yourself? In two days?”

“...Yes.”

“Why?”

Geralt felt his heart shatter to pieces in his chest. All these years spent thinking that if he was too obvious about his feelings he’d hurt Jaskier... and Jaskier had simply been waiting for any confirmation of his affections, friendly or otherwise.

"Because I..." the Witcher stood again and started to pace. "Because, Julek, I love you. I can't bear the thought of being parted from you. It's even worse because I know, I know that you're human and that I'm going to lose you too soon no matter what happens. Illness, age, injury... No matter how many years we have together they will never be enough."

Jaskier sniffled and Geralt turned on his heel to face the bard, hands already outstretched to offer comfort. "You enormous fucking idiot."

"Huh?"

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you sitting in the corner, brooding away," Jaskier grinned. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and dripped onto the blanket. "Why didn't you tell me? You couldn't even look me in the eyes and call me your friend..."

"Witchers aren't very good at romance, if you haven't noticed," Geralt laughed humorlessly. "I knew I was going to hurt you eventually. It was only a matter of time."

"Well now we have all winter to figure things out," Jaskier offered, sliding his hand across the mattress to twine his fingers with Geralt's. The Witcher's skin was cool against his own and it felt glorious.

"Hmm."

"No! No going silent on me now, you fucker!"

"Get some rest," Geralt smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jaskier's sweaty fringe. "I will be here when you wake."

"And tomorrow, too?"

Geralt smiled oh-so-softly and kissed him again, on the lips.

"And tomorrow, too."

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Your Perfect

Masterlist

Summary: Alphas were strong and fierce, the ultimate protective dominant companion. Omegas were sweet loyal and fertile submissive. Alphas were huge. Omegas were tiny. Or so they say, but there were always exceptions to the rule.

Warnings: A/B/O, slight Angst, Fluff, mentions Of Breeding, Mentions Of Heat Cycles, RPF

A/M: so wanted to do a different take on the typical A/B/O a little role reversal~ I hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: in reblogs

You froze on the spot scenting the air. They were here. Your omega. It probably wasn't the best first impression onset, freezing in the middle of the gangway head up alert scenting, searching with both your nose and eyes the many small males walking past.

With a deep inhale you began the hunt. Instincts pulling at you frantically as the spiced delectable scent moved. Your omega had caught a whiff of you on the air and was trying to avoid you. They where panicked weaving about the crowd trying to escape the alpha that was on their trail. With a little luck your size would throw them if they did look around for you as they tried escaping.

To look at you wouldn't have been thought to be alpha, a thick supple woman all of five foot four. Normally female alphas were tall Amazonian muscular goddesses! But you, broke the mould. Like a hammer to a landmine.

You chased the scent ducking and diving around the many busy bodies, abandoning where you were meant to be in favour of locating your mate. It didn't take long to track them as in a frantic rush they lead you out of the throngs of people to the more quiet area of set, the trailers.

They were trying to run to their nest, it was their safety. A beta security guard tried to stop you, but with a snap of your jaws and viscous snarl they stumbled back. Noting the bright red ring outlining your pupil separating the black from your colourful iris. The sure sign of an alpha chaseing their mate.

Once you growled enough making the beta submit you looked forward again and continued, stalking towards your omega. The scent was muffled so they'd reached their nest, not that it would do any good, he was yours and you'd find him.

You slowly stepped down the row of trailers nose in the air sniffing around each one mentally crossing off each one. Then froze. There. The dark grey on your left, with the twitching blind. You walked passed slowly scouting for any danger, needing to inspect your new territory but kept an eye on your omegas nest.

Then once finished your walk round you came to a stop. You could feel it, anxiety and panic radiating from the nest. It made you falter and whine low in your throat. He was scared? Terrified you could smell shame on the air! In that moment all you wanted to do was scoop him up and hold him, make him see there was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of, you'd never hurt him. Only love and protect him.

You stepped up to the door and knocked slowly, your stomach twisting as you heard the footsteps inside and deep fearful pants, laboured breaths loud enough to be heard through the door.

"Omega. Its okay, I wont- I'm in control I wont hurt you" you started speaking low and calmly despite being torn up inside, you wanted to comfort him, stop him from becoming overwhelmed. You heard a small whimper from the other side and another wave of acidic fear hit you making you scrunch your nose in distaste.

"I promise I wouldn't have followed if I wasn't sure, please. Open the door? I just want to see you, I wont do anything if you don't want me too...Please" you pleaded pressing a hand to the cool metal of the bus. You wanted to see him but you wont break in, even if it was probably for the best. Many omegas panic until they meet their alphas properly, face to face. And with the both of you working onset there was only soo much you could take before hunting him down properly like all the horror stories that make the headlines.

"I can sense this is hard for you- your embarrassed you shouldn't be, I wont judge you... I wont many males are omega and its perfectly fine" There was a small shuffle and a deep shaky breath before the door handle was clicked and the door was inched open.

"Y-you promise?" Was the weak reply that tugged on your heart strings. Your need to comfort him when he sounded so upset and defeated. Lonely and scared.  You tipped your head to the side peering through the crack in the door. You understood, much like a female alpha was an anomaly male omegas were too, mostly bullied growing up because of being omega. There were less accepted the female alpha. A female alpha could be sexualized as 'dominatix' and 'domme'. Omega males were victims of slurrs such as 'sissy boy' 'nancy boy'.

"I swear, wont you let me in? We can just talk, or snuggle if you like-whatever you want to do nothing more" you added trying to hide the desperation in your voice. You held your breath as your omega sniffled quietly and whined once more. You could scent the desperation on him too, he wanted to seek you out but was frightened, unsure of himself.

After a few moments a large hand appeared  pressing the door open and holding a hand out to you palm up finally giving into his need for reassurance. You let out a sigh of relief and quickly help his hand shuddering as the contact sent goosbumps up your arm. You took a moment to admire the way his hand locked with yours so perfectly, despite dwarfing yours. With a gentle tug you were being pulled into his nest slowly.

You entered the bus eyes eagerly seeking out your omega. You paused seeing him. At first you didn't even click who he was you just revelled in his presence. The feeling of finally being here with your mate, having him before you after a lifetime of guessing just who fate had instore for you. You were surprised people had joked your mate would be tiny if you were the alpha! But they were wrong. He was huge both wide and tall, muscular and.

"Perfect... Your perfect" you uttered as he blushed ducking his head down trying to hide it. His other hand twiddling with his shirt nervously. You climbed the steps letting the door close behind you finally standing on the same level as your stunning mate.

"You... you mean it? I-I know I'm not...a typical omega my size and strength it of an alpha and its weird, you can refuse me if you want-" he began his anxiety rising with each word the pungent scent making the air thick and unpleasant. You hushed him quickly speaking over him.

"Didn't I just say your perfect Henry... your perfect just the way you are" you said still marvelling at your omega. You didn't really care who he was. You were far to enamoured with the realisation that he was your omega. He was like you, unique and wonderful. Exactly how he was meant to be... apart from those hormones mixed in with the scent of suppressant's. You leant forward sniffing and frowned momentarily.

"Hormones? You've been trying to hide?" You were right. He hung his head feeling deflated before nodding to you ashamed.

"I... Sorry its... People that find out are... They ridicule me I hate it" he said slowly it made your heart clench. It angered you. Just like everything else in life if you didn't fit the social norms you were pressured to change it. He had been taking hormonal supplements to try and force himself to be alpha. Tried to cover up his true presentation to fit in. You understood he was large and muscular and a perfect embodiment of the 'perfect male' handsome strong features, the deep voice and charming confident personality. Yet he was an omega. Its probably why he felt the need to push himself so much. He was over compensating.

"Don't worry about them I'm here now" you uttered moving pressing a hand to his cheek making him look at you. He gapsed when he locked eyes feeling the bond begin to form already just with the simplest of gestures.

"Do you trust me?" You asked slowly still trying to be mindful of how skittish he seemed. He nodded unable to deny the feeling of trust and warmth. You felt like home and calm in a way he never felt before.

"Good boy... i promise to look after you my sweet omega" you cooed letting a low rumble of your purr into your words easing his fears. You could taste him on your tongue the air around you becoming more relaxed and welcoming the anxiety lifting making you breath a sigh of relief. He whined before dipping his head to you pressing his forehead to your shoulder prompting you to encircle him with a bear hug. He shuddered before sniffling returning the hug whimpering as sobs wracked his body uttering 'alpha' over and over holding you tighter with each call.

You blinked away your own tears you swayed while him. It was overwhelming for him. You dread to think what hell he has been through just because he is omega, especially in the business she was in. But you ere proud, so very proud of him to navigate his career and become so successful despite being an omega? He hadn't let it hold him back like many others who hid in fear of being found out. You rubbed his back and tipped your head pressing kisses to his neck that bared to you.

"Your alright.... your alright I've got you now, I've got you omega come one lets go lay down hmm? We can go and snuggle for a while if you'd like?" you hummed  to him pressing kiss after kiss along the side of his throat. As much as you wanted to mark him you resisted, the last thing you need to do while he is in this fragile state is breed him. Mate him and tie him to you for god knows how long. Plus the suppressants would make it doubly hard, your body would tighten and lock around him despite him not being able to truly breed you. It could cause problems for the both of you. It would be best to wait until next months cycle hit and he let him fall into heat.

"Y-yeah, with Kal too?" He uttered still sniffing you, drawing deep breaths in trying to drown in your scent. You grinned against his neck nuzzling him rubbing your own scent onto his skin.

"Of course with Kal too love" you replied with a grin pulling back a little to eye the akita who was tilting his fluffy head at you trying to understand what was happening.

"Come on off to bed" you said prodding his tummy playfully giggling as he squirmed chuckling and grinning whislt pawing at his eyes trying to wipe away his lingering tears.

"O-okay... we wont?" You shook your head as he trailed off cheeks glowing from the mere mention of mating.

"As much as I would love to claim and mate you, we will wait until your heat, et those suppressants and hormone supplements out of your system~" you reassured him whist ushering him deeper into the bus towards the bedroom area. He chuckled nervously before turning calling Kal to the bedroom as he eagerly scrabbled onto it, wanting nothing more then to curl up and cuddle with you.

You released a deep breath watching as he and the bear got comfy. Your omegas huge blue eyes watching you as you settled down yourself and pulled him to rest his head on your chest. One hand twisted in His hair, the other letting Kal sniff you before stroking him. You grinned closing your eyes finally feeling at peace. After a long lonely life wondering you'd found your boys. And your home.

[yandere-mha]

You don't have to write it if you don't want to, but after reading the Hawks and Mirko sharing an SO, I wanted to see what it would be like for yandere! Tamaki and Mirio to share one!

Bro literally anything you could request I will happily do. Just as I do for the lovely @im-here-only-for-yandere-dabi who also made beautiful fanart, you’ve got both got a fan outta me 🙏 Also I’d LOVE doing this because there’s not many poly yandere pairings that (while ever entertaining) would end up being a “productive” pairing, but these two are Different and it’s Refreshing.

ALSO, I do wanna bring up for anyone requesting a multi-pair that I consider “poly pairing” and “shared s/o” to be two different things and the way you word the request may end up changing the results so keep that in mind while requesting (poly means they’re all thirsting each other and shared mean they’re both thirsting you).

TW: KIDNAPPING, ABUSE, UNHEALTHY DYNAMICS, MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE THREAT MENTION.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Yandere Tamaki and yandere Mirio x shared!reader:

One of the only yandere parings I can see being able to be in the same room with you as each other. They’re already friends with an established, seemingly unbreakable trust in each other while being almost cosmic opposites. 

What’s always been special about these two since the beginning is that, though they’re very different, they use those differences to improve upon their friendship. They admire and acknowledge each other’s strengths while Mirio they encourage each other to improve upon their weaknesses in a positive way. This would also apply for their “business partnership” with you and will probably end up being both good and... bad.

Something that they both have in common is their fierce protectiveness of you and, like two angry dogs, they would feed off of each other’s aggression and bring out a very scary side to both of them that would’ve been hidden from you otherwise. They’ll take their plans of brutal torture into the other room because neither of them want to scare you, but you’ll hear Tamaki’s enraged shrieking reverberate around the house. Though Mirio will almost always successfully get him to Calm His Shit and remind him of the possibility of you hearing him, you don’t need to be a super sleuth to hear that. 

The way that Mirio will always be able to calm Tamaki is through encouragement and validation in a way that only he seems to be able to do. Unlike you, he is more willing to accept these kinds of compliments in a way that almost makes you feel jealous. However... the way Mirio goes about doing this is definitely not conventional. His encouragement is less like “It’s okay dude you don’t have to literally kill her enemies to be worthy of her presence” and more like “We’ll protect y/n... together! I want to make sure they don’t feel that pain anymore too, but I’ll need your help!” 😬

This is why Tamaki becomes so much more visibly enraged around him whenever you get hurt. Before, he would still be unable to control his emotions, but he would feel guilt about “showing the monster” around you. Now that Mirio, someone he admires, is here to be angry along side him and validate his anger, he doesn’t feel nearly as guilty.

A good thing about this though is that one of the biggest drawbacks of being Tamaki’s s/o is his self-hating rants, mental breakdowns from guilt, and suicidal tendencies. However, with Mirio present, stopping this where it started is a lot easier. He just has a way of dealing with him that no one else does.

I don’t want to say whether this is a good or bad thing depending on your needs, but another drawback to Tamaki that would be “remedied” would be the fact that he would almost always keep a safe distance from you and never touch you due to feeling guilty. Mirio, however, is very touchy-feely and you definitely wouldn’t end up being as touch starved and lonely rather than if you were with Tamaki alone. Tamaki wouldn’t feel jealous by this, considering the fact that he thinks of Mirio as almost equal to you in godliness. If he’s the sun then you’re the moon, the night sky, the planet Venus, and all the stars in space. However... I could see this bringing up an issue.

One thing that Tamaki will never tolerate, even from Mirio, is anyone hurting you in any way. Mirio would never hurt you on purpose, but there are times when he gets... too affectionate and forgets his strength. While Tamaki sees you as an angel, Mirio sees you as a victim he needs to protect. Because of this, he’ll feel the need to embrace you as tightly as possible in order to “make you feel safe”. If Mirio breaks a bone by accident, and he will, Tamaki would go ape shit. I could even see him trying to kill him in a blinded rage to fall down on his knees and beg for forgiveness from both of you afterwards, offering to kill himself. Mirio would forgive him, encouraging him as always, but he’d be on edge whenever he entered the room after that, seeing him as a danger to you even though he was the one to break your wrist. Tamaki takes on too much guilt while Mirio doesn’t want to see his own. 

Another upside to them sharing you is that, if you were only with Tamaki, you’d be having to deal with a lot of boredom while, if you were only with Mirio, you’d literally never get a break from him. Tamaki is shy, quiet, and too paranoid of you getting hurt to let you do anything fun while Mirio loves quality time and will actively try to get all three of you to do something stimulating. He’d never have you do anything dangerous per say, but he might make a weekly tradition of you three playing Mario Kart with each other. He’d see it as his two greatest loved ones having fun together rather than a prisoner and an anxious friend being pressured into playing games with him. Due to Mirio now having two separate people to bug for entertainment, you would not have to shoulder all of that responsibility.

I’ve said before that if you feel nauseated by excessive compliments, you will need a barf bucket living with Tamaki, but hooo boy you don’t know pain until you’ve lived with both of them. They’re both very obsessive and very verbal about their affections, so you’re going to be getting that times two. They’ll even agree with each other and compliment each other on their compliments... 🤮