#so this is where the piece of info came from

[drewdoa]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ arcane goes gardening <3 • hcs/scenarios !

ˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: hello :)) this is so me coded it’s scary LMAO but i had to since i also enjoy gardening <3 hopefully this is something i can write about more cause omg i can’t get enough of this

ˋ°•*⁀➷ extra info: suggestive moments while intoxicated, cnc touching, no gender specific reader, a whole lot of flirting ;)

jinx

would be such a lady and always light you up. it’s her favorite thing honestly, she usually carries a lighter around you now because of it. you found out she started smoking cause you found her box un covered on her desk, not that she had a problem with you seeing it of course, but more of just “hey you kinda wouldn’t expect that from me!”. but you did, which is the funniest part.

making her way down the stairs as the sound of metal pieces clank together, she turned her head to see you standing there by her chair. as jinx made her way down the last few steps she greeted you with a kiss, a passionate one at that. she noticed one of your hands was holding the half finished joint, beautifully wrapped with purple rolling paper.

she looked back at you with an innocent face. “could ya blame me? i even made some for you too darlin’” she said softly, moving the box and pulling the few untouched ones behind her books. “i couldn’t keep it alll to myself”

this ended up with you guys seshing every evening, especially on nights where it’s foggy. less likely to get caught since you’ve got vi and caitlyn to worry about. they can’t let the council know you two have “drugs” around enforcers.

because of that fact though, she picked up baking and learned to make infused pastries! you came back to her place as the scent of trees and cookies followed immediately. it took you a lot of power to not steal one while jinx was icing them <3

i feel like this ties to her growing in the undercity but when she was younger with silco he taught her how to roll. as bad as that sounds..i would say she learned by watching more than him actually teaching her. she would take papers and filters here and there and just practice all the time. making comments about how the colors of the paper were pretty every time he got a new pack.

ugh she’s so a good kisser when stoned it’s un real. you’ve told her about it once and she laughed at you, but you were serious. “i think maybe YOU were a little too high, i kiss you like that all the time!”. she would protest every time until one night both of you got extremely touchy, and one thing led to another. safe to say, you were not too high <3

viktor

my man absolutely loves weed. even attempted (and successfully managed) to grow his own. knowing viktor, lets be honest, he’s gotta have some secret rooms or spaces to do his own shit. like he genuinely lives in the lab how could he resist. so, one late night he told you to come by, which is pretty rare for him since he really is a workaholic. by the time you got there viktor had everything set up, pretty lights everywhere, he looked handsome, and it was just the two of you<3

time goes by and both of you are sitting near a window, he pulls out a small book and gives it to you. as you examine the cool old leather, he opens the book with his fingertips, to the pages on the inside carved out. it would hold a lighter and 3 joints perfectly wrapped in pink rolling paper.

viktor smirked at you, “i thought you’d get a kick out of the pink, dítě (baby)”. he motioned for you to take one as he grabbed the lighter out the book. as you pressed the paper against your lips, the crack of the lighter followed as you took the first hit . or two, or three.

you passed it to him not long after, his gaze fixed on your face and your eyes as you became more and more intoxicated. as he took a few pulls himself he put it out on the windowsill. both of you sitting there relaxed as ever, in the most vulnerable position.

since then, he would leave you joints in the pocket of your jackets. always with a little note on the side. he would also throw in pieces of candy with it too incase you craved something sweet.

one night you came into the lab after taking an edible jayce and jinx gave you. they of course didn’t mention they were infused, but your first instinct was to find viktor before it really hit you. he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek wrapping his hand around your waist. you then explain to him why you’re really there and he lets out a low giggle. “they really played you huh?” he followed with as his hand slid up your side. his cold hands made it even worse to ignore the feeling. skin to skin, he wasn’t joking when he said he was into it.

usually when you’re stoned and all up on him, he takes such advantage of it in the best way possible. his hands are almost always touching you, teasing and making you feel good without overwhelming you. sometimes you don’t even notice hickeys on your body until you’re fully sober. of course when you went to ask viktor about it he tries to play it off, but the blush on his cheeks and the smile he can’t hide say otherwise<3

silco

a guy who favors cigars but weed just for you. i feel like his hands are shakey sometimes now so he has trouble rolling, especially all those years of teaching jinx he’s earned a break. hence why he surprised you one day with a bong. see through red glass and shaped like two cherries. he thought you wouldn’t mind it, especially since you’ve been talking about getting a new one.

at first you were nervous to open the box once he told you it was glass (..shocked he didn’t break it himself) but it was totally worth being careful cause it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever received. he even got you a cute lighter that matches.

during nights where he’s up and can’t sleep he’ll pull you over so cuddle and sesh together. having your back against his chest as the sound of his cigar popping and burning fills your ears. you would be using the bong here, practically hotboxing his office and laughing when people walk in to you both higher than the sky.

i feel like he would also have a special drawer dedicated to all his trees. and then have a special compartment for all your stuff <3 refilling things when you run out so you never go a moment without, it’s the father tendency in him.

i think his favorite saying is “you need a break, mon cherie” as he drags you into his office for a sesh. he never really cares if you have “one more thing to finish”, he doesn’t want you overworking yourself, that’s his job really!

if you both had to go somewhere around people (after seshing) he would totally just give you his clothes. next thing you know both of you are matching, you smell like him, and honestly you look great in his coat. he’s also definitely the type to check on you often incase you smoked a little too much and can’t handle it. “mon amor are you feeling alright?” “do you feel okay, love?” “is this too much for you, sweetie?”

sevika

she’s so mama ugh. nothing but the best from sevika honestly. she’s always prepared for you with anything you ask for. she always has her cigars and such but there’s a special part just for you.

since you’re with her almost all the time, you’ve grown to find comfort in the scent of cigars. even the clothes you wear end up smelling like it, but you don’t mind, all you think about is her. it took her some time to get used to you though, but what caught her the most is that you..weren’t afraid of her?

she hasn’t met many people that match her freak, so it was a big refresher when you came along. but her favorite moment will always be when she caught you smoking in her room. sevika’s huge frame leaned on the doorway as she watched the smoke leave your body. you put your arm out with a j in your hand and motioning her to come sit with you. immediately the door closed as sevika sat on the bed and pulled you into her lap.

“how often do you do this without me?” sevika questioned, looking down at your red hazy eyes. “high eyes have always been gorgeous, yours especially, sweetheart”. sevika thought of these moments as core memories, since she doesn’t usually have time alone with you.

when munchies kick in it’s wraps for you guys. kitchen dates are what mainly pull you two together. i feel like cooking is such a good love language and it doesn’t get talked about enough. (i saw someone point out the fact sevika is obviously an indian queen so that also is gonna apply here <3). she’s very much a fan of cooking dishes from her country and having you try each and every one of them.

totally the type to baby you when you’re bedrotting while high. definitely pulls you on top of her when sleeping to feel your warmth. or you both end up wrapped so tight in blankets you can’t move off eachother ;)). speaking of, in the winter time her room gets extremely cold so both of you guys end up making robes out of her blankets (take viktor styling jayce’s blanket for example<3). she hangs every one of them in her closet during the warmer weather <3

˚₊ · »-♡→ heyy ;)) i hope this fic was enjoyable <3 more of my content will have themes surrounding cannabis/smoking so that’s just a heads up ^_^ if you liked this please reblog & like! it would be very appreciated <3 - drew

[transformers87]

How does Orion Pax learn the truth (of both the dead of the Primes and why Sentinel raises him the way he did) and how does he manage to defeat both Sentinel and his fear towards him?

Does D-16 still become Megatron?

Yes D-16 still becomes Megatron…. This is still an ongoing process!! I am still at the rough draft of the whole story plot!… i just dunno how to piece it together yet.

Sentinel did told him a half hearted truth about the deaths of Orion’s older siblings and about the energon being cut and bots being born without cogs etc…. And he told Orion that he does not know where their bodies have been buried… and told him that no bot cogless or not is ever allowed in the surface…

Orion would then question his father as to why they had to close of the whole archives from the mass public… and he would ask why does the cogless mech have to mine for more energon if they are far more vulnerable than those who do have cogs… why is everyone not allowed on the surface?….where does his father go whenever he, Archinid and his followers go to when they arrive at the surface?

All those questions Orion kept asking… had boiled Sentinel in anger and he snaps… “i am your father and u will do as i say”.. and he storms off leaving a scared Orion behind.

This both bothers Orion by the lack of info from his father and the wanting to know more… but can’t due to the more guards escorting him from whatever task his father saw fit for him to do while Sentinel goes to wherever the hell he pleases.

When nighttime came Orion found a secret passage that was hidden within his room/chamber…. Another secret that the original 13 had made in case the enemy tried to invade Orion’s room when he was still a newborn sparkling…. Back to the present… Orion now uses this as a way to sneak out at night and to the closed off archives to learn as much as he could bout the war… and about his lost siblings…. Anything to know bout the matrix and to finally show poof to Sentinel that he’s not a little sparkling anymore.

During all of this… in Orion’s fourth or fifth attempt in sneaking into the archives he again crashed into D-16 who was also wanting to find answers… D-16 was caught by the security drones and was in hot pursuit when crashing into Orion again… this happened before the race mind you.

Seeing this Orion helped Dee escape and avoid the drones and help hide Dee into his chambers… in hopes to let things cool down a bit before he could help Dee find away back to the mines and other miners.

From there… and from Dee’s words.. Orion learns that his father was not in line with the truth… and wanted to know more… so he made a deal with Dee that he will use his ability to help Dee and the others as best as he could.

When in the cave.. or the tomb of the primes is where Orion learned the actual truth… the group found Alpha Trion and woke him back online… after being disoriented and locked eyes with Orion he tackles him in an embrace calling him Optimus and yeah… a huge shocking family reunion between Orion and Trion… and a heavy truth bomb….

That Sentinel killed Orion’s siblings and took their newborn sparkling as a way to find and control the matrix… and yeah

Orion was too filled with grief, and betrayal that he doesn’t know how to feel… even when being caught by the high guard and later by his father’s followers…. He was just in a daze like shock… just what do i do? Sorta feelings when all of it hit him

Sorry bout all that rambling… 🥲😅

[welcome-to-puppet-hell]

Hi! can i request of a reader who falls into Home?

a bit late, anon. sorry about that! but i hope it was worth it~

if anyone else wants to request something, click here for info.

I don’t remember much from the Before. There’s only bits and pieces, flashes of arbitrary images that I can’t really make sense of—a shattered puzzle that I’ll probably struggle to put back together for a long, long, long time. But what I do remember is the smoke entering my nostrils, filling my lungs. The struggle to move, to break free. And then, something even stranger.

A spiral. This endless loop of white spinning and spinning and spinning into a black void that seemed to carry this Hunger. For what, I didn’t know. Still don’t.

But there was no other way out. No way to escape.

So, through the difficulty to breathe, through the tears streaming from my eyes, through the pain entering my limbs and trying to shut my body down, I reached my hand out towards it.

And that, I can only assume, was enough.

.

.

.

“…Oh my gosh!”

“Are they okay…?!”

“Where’d they come from?”

Oh my god, can anyone tell them to shut up?! Some people are trying to sleep here. 

Well, if you can call this sleep, really. Now that I’m actually a bit conscious, I can actually feel the agony weighing on me. Every inch of my body is crying out in the sort of pain that will leave bruises and scars and aches for days. Either I’m having the hangover of a century or I got hit by a semi, and neither seem appealing.

A groan leaves me at the thought, my eyes moving behind eyelids. I need to get up at some point. Get to my phone. Call my—

“…Hey, I think they’re comin’ round,” a deep Southern drawl above my head. 

“Step back!” Another voice, nasally and anxious. “Give them some air!”

The shuffle of many feet makes me feel a little less stifled. With a deep breath, I force myself up on my elbows. Then grasp my forehead, feeling pain pain pain, god, ow! Feels like I was run over by a truck, shit. Did I drink anything last night…? 

Actually, what did I do last night? 

Blinking, I keep trying to remember…but it just makes no sense. I came home from work, pet my cat, went into the bedroom to greet you, and then—nothing. Nothing except the memory of smelling smoke.

All my focus returns when a huge hand lands on my shoulder. I blink again and look over to see that it’s blue and…fuzzy. 

What the hell…?

My eyes follow the length of the arm to see a huge, huge blue dog staring down at me. His brows are furrowed and his eyes seem to hold worry. And even worse, in a way that disturbs me right to my bones, his mouth parts and a voice comes out.

“Hey, buddy,” he says softly, almost comforting. “Ya good?”

A ringing starts through my ears.

(Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.)

Immediately, I push away from him and scramble to my feet. I look around, seeing all the bright colors—too bright. Doesn’t look real. The grass, the trees, the flowers, and even the houses—none of it look real. Looks too bright, too colorful. And the…the people.

Wait, no. Not people. Not with those eyes, and that…that skin? Grayish-purple, orange, y-yellow…is that a bird? A sun? And omigod, what the hell is that?

(—Not human!)

“Whoa, they, uh. They don’t look too good, Barn,” says the big green one with too many arms to the big blue dog, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“P-perhaps we can bring them some tea,” says the huge red bird, a fucking bird, her eyes soft and full of worry.

“Maybe they just need to lie down,” says a huge one with orange skin, wearing a hat. A mailman? His mouth spreads into a gentle smile as he walks over to me, his hand lifting, possibly to calm me down. “Hey pardner, just relax. Everythin’ is okay…”

(DON’T TRUST THEM.) 

And despite my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’ll burst out, despite my lungs pinched from a lack of air, I look around at all of them and scream.

“Get the hell away from me…! Who are you? Where am I? What…?”

As I lift a hand to point, I pause. A dread creeps over me, coats my back in a cold sweat. My gaze falls to my hands, my arms. My fingers are spread as I spin my hands palm up. Then they curl to stroke over each other, to touch, to feel.

(No skin. No skin, no skin, what the hell happened to my skin? It’s just. Just—)

Again, I can’t seem to breathe, my heart hammering so loud I can hear it. But then again, do I even have a heart anymore? Lungs? My hands go to my face, feel the fuzz there and a sob starts to tremble from me. Impossibly so, water flows from my eyes and down my cheeks, making my gaze blurry. Noise happens around me, like yelling but not, just voices full of worry and confusion.

And then, yellow hands grasp my own and it all goes silent.

“Neighbor…?”

That…that voice. I know it. I know him. But how? From where?

“Jamie?”

How does he know my name?

“Jamie, look at me.”

Despite everything, my eyes lift from where he’s holding my hands and meet with his.

You’d think that it was his hair that would catch my attention first, with how blue it is and how it seems to curl in on itself  in a pompadour. But no, it’s actually his eyes. They are huge in how open they are, pupils too wide, and black like the void as they stare into my own. The smile he wears is too wide, it should be splitting his face apart, and yet I kind of know it’s not with anything malicious. He’s excited that I’m here, like he’s been…waiting for me. 

I’m both unnerved, yet drawn to the gaze, despite all the alarms going off inside my skull. Like he is slowly sucking me in—

But then in a blink, his eyes look—normal. Neutral? 

“There we go. Are you all right, Neighbor?” he asks me, his smile not as wide, but still holding warmth…I think. “That was quite a fall.”

I blink. “Fall? F-from where…?”

His eyes dart pointedly upwards, silently coaxing me to follow his gaze. For a split second, high up in the clear blue sky above us—almost too high to see—there’s a black hole with a spiral of white. But then, just as quick as I see it, it closes up and blinks out of existence. I blink again and then start actually looking around me, feeling a sickening thud through my chest. 

What…what is this place?

“I…what…who…” 

Groaning suddenly, I squeeze my eyes closed and let my head fall slightly forward, the nausea making my stomach twist. Fuck, it hurts! But why does it…?

But then he squeezes my hands again, grounding me.

“Of course not, that was a dumb question,” he says in a monotone, but still somehow sounds warm and welcoming. “Come, let me take you to Home. You can have tea there, and we can talk.”

“I’ll come with!” the huge blue dog adds with a grin, and then a grin. “Walls and I can show you ‘round afterwards.”

“That’s a great idea, Barnaby! He’s really good at explaining things, much better than I am.”

At this point, I feel so numb. I can only stare into the slightly shorter man’s dark eyes. Finally, after a beat, I dare to ask:

“Who are you?”

His expression goes blank for a moment. And then, he smiles wide.

“Wally,” he says. “Wally Darling.”

[yuzu-all-the-way]

2015 Blood Donation Campaign (cr. YT Cefy Chokoreeto)

Bonus:

That was so fast asked and answered!!

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

t minus seven days until i have to leave the city where i've had literally the best year of my life and move back in with my parents my period started, and i just found out i might have fucked up my entire dissertation 🥴

[termagax]

see jukebox is an amnesiac and theyre not really all that interested in finding out who they used to be and they pass this off as apathy but its actually a kind of existential dread especially being here and being surrounded by constant reminders of the war and what it does to people. i just think. well. the idea that they could have done something terrible and have forgotten it and therefore are escaping the accountability of having to Live With It is. well its kind of a night mare. you can barely tell i have ocd.

[elizzsush]

“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

.

.

.

.

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Could you write for a female concubine that both Geta and Caracalla are in a relationship with?

The concubine of two gods

Geta/Caracalla x concubine!reader

warning : comfort, kissing, touching, mention of smut (rather smutish) nothing explicit, no use of y/n, nicknames : sun, heart, goddess

Summary : Her past uninteresting, her future uncertain, but in the present she had her place, she belonged to the emperors of Rome. A single concubine for the care of two gods, two men who desired and possessed her. She was theirs and had no choice but to obey...

info : Thank you so much anon for the request, I am so pleased to get one for Gladiator II. I love the idea, I wanted to do something similar myself someday, so this fits all the better. Have fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A scandal in the eyes of the senate, two emperors who had only passed their twentieth birthday a few moons ago without an heir were having fun with a concubine rather than looking for a wife.

But the Senate's secret was kept under wraps and the people hardly noticed, so Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla were all the more furious when the golden hands were placed around their handsome possessions.

The blue eyes of the imperial siblings had settled on them, both had been on a quest for something more fun, someone who was not tainted by lowly origins.

A woman who was a nobody and lived only for the bedie, ,,Give us our desire and we'll give you the world” Geta had promised her when he had put the tight gold bracelet on her, engravings of Apollo carved into it. It belonged to Geta and the chain that could be attached to the gold bracelet had a leather handle made by Caracalla.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Geta

°For Geta it was Olympus, the sky he could turn to at any time when he disappeared from the light of attention. After a Senate meeting or a visit to the Colosseum, she was waiting for him, would always find him and he didn't have to search to catch sight of her. ,,My heart” he greeted her, placing a kiss on the back of her hand, kissing the golden rings he had made for her, she was his property.

°Above all, he could do anything he wanted with his property, satisfy his lust for her in every conceivable way. At night in his chambers, he went to her under the furs and pillows, saw the emperor without make-up and golden clothes, while he ran his hands over her golden body. Lips that tasted hers, that kissed and tasted her body, grips that would leave colorful stains like a mosaic and two bodies that demanded lust, ,,My...you are bound to the emperor” he reminded her and fingers closed tightly around her jaw.

°As lustful as nights and days could be, she was just as magnificent when she was at his side. He appeared with her in the safety of the palace, two gods whose hearts seemed to wander through the corridors, ,,More divine than they will ever be” she flattered him and adjusted the golden laurel wreath before they entered the senate together. With her at his side, he had the missing piece in his government, what he had in ideas and plans, she had in eloquence and influence behind him to make it happen.

°His past known to her but hers all the more mysterious, something that harmonized when they joined forces in the Senate against the "false" friends and he held her hand as they witnessed the stabbing of some senators, ,,Thanks to your grace" he whispered to her, a hot breath and a kiss on her neck a sign for more, for the night. But especially when the sun went down and the moon came out, the light of the goddess gradually lost its meaning and only the young man Geta remained, without make-up, without gold, only with a name that she spoke with her lips.

°When he lay there on the bed in pillows and furs, the goblet of wine in his hand and looking vulnerable, she was there to keep him from being alone with his thoughts. She would run her hand through his hair, kiss him and run her hand over his hands where the gold lay, ,,You will never lose your power...my Emperor” she would murmur to him, looking over the rim of the goblet at him and resting her hand on his chest.

°Two hearts that beat the same in dark hours when the burden of a ruler becomes too much. For when her olive ring felt too tight, he was there to loosen it, a reminder of his power, but in the same breath it was he who wrapped his arms around her, not letting go because he needed her not only physically, but also to have his human side protected by her.

°Above the gold, he and she were two gods when they wanted to be, but underneath they were two humans caught up in a larger thing. Love and devotion was the only thing holding them together before they became Emperor Geta and his nameless concubine again with the rising of the sun...but with the sun, a second desire settled over them, one with a lust for blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Carcalla

°Caracalla did not see the divine when he saw her, he saw an amusement that never ended. Like a personal spectacle, a coliseum, a fight, a never-ending blood...more like a pet he dragged behind him on a leash...but in the figure of a woman in whose arms he wanted to lie when his existence became too heavy.

°His interest in politics was hardly an open secret, he could hardly make decisions himself without Geta being there. But now that he had the need, the desire for something for the first time, he didn't let himself be dissuaded. ,,If brother gets you at night, I'll take you during the sun,” he made his intentions clear, his smile revealing the gold tooth, the same sound of the leash rattling as he started to move and she had no choice but to follow.

°A follow she did day in and day out from the colloseum where she sat next to him, his hand wrapped around hers, sharing his excitement with her when one of his gladiators killed the opponent and blood spurted through the counter, ,,You bring us luck sun!” he proclaimed and a kiss as a reward. An intimacy he lived out with her in a different way what Geta wanted to have control over, Caracalla wanted to see everything free from her.

°When lights from the sun were reflected in mirrors, the emperor's chamber was illuminated and a trail of blood ran around the room, a throaty moan could be heard every now and then between the laughter. ,,Wonderful! My goddess is as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside!” he shouted as if he were entertaining an audience as he applied the knife once more, her naked body ran across the room, the chain slept across the floor and one of Caracalla's hands lay on the knife while his other lay under his toga.

°Despite his fits, he knew better than to take her than to pursue his lust physically with her, but both benefited from such a game. With each thrust as he pulled her to him, her skin warm and bleeding, her gasps and moans as he kissed her just to taste and lick her blood, his amusement grew, ,,Such a good king,” she replied, the pleasure in his eyes turning to a smile and another moan leaving his lips.

°Despite all the blood and lust, he was eager for her anchoring, for the woman in whose arms he loved to lie like a child who could do no wrong. A child who listened to stories of war, he giggled when another one died and stretched out to her touch when she gently stroked his cheek and gave him a kiss on the head, ,,My handsome emperor” her praise turned him on, soothed him and made him clasp the chain tighter.

°For Caracalla she was everything, a wife, an entertainment, his desire, the mother he ever wanted to have and he was almost like a child born with a golden tooth in his mouth. A king who was addicted to her and her feelings for him went deeper than that of a concubine and her emperor, it was recognition and love that united them both when the sun was in the sky before she went back to his brother at night because she was sworn to both of them for all time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @sigiismunda , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @somepallings , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @trampstampbrbie

@orphdices , @k-yurieee

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König

Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS

He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room

He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much

While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs

When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.

Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.

Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under

His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home

When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house

He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)

He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.

Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back

Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space

Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)

He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative

He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk

The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day

Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get

He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)

You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once

If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection

No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies

But not you, you embraced him

Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored

The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

[moomuzan]

G⃣   O⃣   N⃣   E⃣

ੈ INFO — you abandoned them for their own good.

༘⋆ PAIRING — pm! dazai, chuuya, akutagawa & atsushi

༉‧ TAGS — angst!

➶ ˚ A/N — welp i am devastated from finishing the manga for like the 100th time

When CHUUYA found out you were gone, he refused to accept it at first. It didn’t make sense. You wouldn’t just leave. You wouldn’t slip away without a word, without giving him some kind of explanation. He wouldn’t let you.

But then Mori confirmed it. His words were cold, indifferent, and Chuuya’s world tilted on its axis.

“She made her choice,” Mori had said, his voice so casual, as if it was nothing more than a fleeting decision. “It’s not your concern anymore.”

Not my concern?

The words hit Chuuya like a slap, sharp and stinging, and before he even thought about it, he was storming out of the room. He didn’t stop until he was standing in front of your apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t even hesitate before he kicked the door open, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.

But when he stepped inside, all that greeted him was silence. The bed was neatly made, the closet empty, the shelves bare. It was like you had never been there at all. It was like a sick joke.

“Damn it,” Chuuya muttered, his chest tightening painfully. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the reality of it all slamming into him like a physical blow. His mind was racing, spinning out of control, and he felt the burning ache of something tearing inside him. You were gone. You had chosen to leave him, and he couldn’t even bring himself to understand why.

For weeks after that, Chuuya buried himself in his work, his temper shortening with every passing day. He lashed out at anyone who came too close, the rage building up inside him, threatening to spill over. But none of it ever made the pain go away. Every task, every mission, every punch he threw was just a distraction, an attempt to drown out the gnawing emptiness where you used to be.

Late one night, after the world had gone quiet, and the weight of his own thoughts became unbearable, Chuuya found himself sitting alone in your apartment.

“You think leaving is going to keep me safe?” he spat into the silence, his voice raw and broken, as if it could somehow reach you. “You think I’m just going to forget you?”

“You’re such an idiot,” he muttered, his voice cracking with the weight of it. “I didn’t need you to save me, damn it. I just needed you to stay.”

DAZAI had always prided himself on seeing through people—on sensing the smallest shifts in their mood, their actions, their thoughts. But even with all his skill, even with all his ability to read between the lines, he had failed to see it coming.

One day, you were just... gone.

It was the emptiness of your absence that hit him first. The quiet where there had once been laughter, the silence where there had once been banter, the void where you had always stood beside him. He couldn’t even remember when it had started—when you had stopped looking at him the same way, when the smiles had faded, when your eyes had become a little less bright.

The letter came hours later, hidden beneath a stack of papers, as if you had tried to bury it in an attempt to keep him from finding it. The words were brief, a final plea for him to understand, but all they did was crush him further.

“Dazai, I’m sorry. I had to leave. You’re better off without me. Please don’t try to find me.”

His hands shook as he read it again, and again, as if somehow the meaning would change. But no matter how many times he read those words, the truth never wavered. You had left him. Left everything behind—left him.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath. You had always been there. Always. How had he not seen this coming? How had he been so blind to the fact that you were slipping away, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a letter on his desk?

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as if the physical pain could drown out the suffocating ache in his chest.

He spent the next few days pretending everything was fine. He smiled, he joked, he worked as if nothing had changed.

However, sitting in the dimly lit corner of his office at night, he stared at your empty chair. “You think this is for the best?” he whispered into the darkness. His voice was quiet, raw. “Do you know how wrong you are?”

ATSUSHI found your resignation letter on Kunikida’s desk, and the sight of your handwriting felt like a punch to the gut. His eyes skimmed the words, but they blurred, the meaning refusing to sink in. His pulse quickened, his breath shallow.

“She’s gone,” Kunikida’s voice cut through his panic, flat and final. “She said it was for personal reasons.”

Personal reasons? Atsushi’s mind spun, each word more incomprehensible than the last. His hand shook as he grabbed his phone, dialing your number, only for it to ring and ring until it clicked to voicemail.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, the word catching in his throat. He threw on his jacket and rushed to your apartment, his heart hammering in his chest. But when he reached your door, he found it empty.

The air felt thick, heavy, as if the entire world was pressing in on him. He stood there, frozen, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Why?” he whispered to the quiet apartment, his voice cracking. His fingers brushed against the doorframe, as if searching for some sign of you, anything that could explain why you weren’t there. “Why would you leave?”

Days stretched into weeks, and every time Atsushi stepped into the Agency, the ache in his chest grew, a constant reminder that you were no longer there. He found himself walking past your desk every day, half-expecting to see you sitting there, your warm smile lighting up the room. But the chair was always empty. The silence was deafening, suffocating him in a way he couldn’t explain.

One night, with the city lights stretching out beneath him, Atsushi found himself sitting alone on the rooftop of the Agency. The wind cut through him, but it couldn’t cool the fire inside his chest. He clutched his phone in his hands, the screen glowing in the dark. His fingers hovered over the last text you had sent him, the words stinging like a wound that refused to heal: “Take care of yourself, Atsushi. You’ll be fine without me.”

His breath hitched as he whispered, his voice unsteady. “You’re wrong,” he murmured, pressing his palm to his chest, the tiger within him restless, growling with frustration. “I’m not fine. I’m not fine without you.”

When AKUTAGAWA first heard the news, he refused to believe it. He couldn’t. You were his partner, the one person who had never flinched, never hesitated to stand by him. You weren’t supposed to leave.

He stormed into Mori’s office, his eyes burning with barely contained rage. “Tell me why,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me why she’s gone.”

Mori’s response was cold, indifferent, a detached dismissal. “Why does it matter? She made her decision.”

Akutagawa’s fists clenched, his body trembling with frustration. “She wouldn’t just leave. She’s not a coward.”

But as the days dragged on, the truth began to claw at him, undeniable. You weren’t coming back.

Rashomon tore through another target, and Akutagawa moved through the battlefield like a storm, each strike a blind effort to fill the aching hole inside him. But nothing—nothing—could quell the emptiness your absence had left behind. No amount of blood, no amount of violence could fill the space you had once occupied.

One night, he found himself standing outside the abandoned warehouse where you had spent so many hours training together. The memories flooded back, crashing over him like waves—your sharp wit, your quiet encouragement, the way you had always pushed him to be better, to be more than he was.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice barely a sound, swallowed by the night. “Why would you leave me?”

His fists clenched tighter, his nails biting into his palms, the pain grounding him in reality. “Did you think I couldn’t protect you? Did you think I didn’t need you?”

“I’ll find you,” he vowed quietly, the words trembling with raw emotion. “Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off.  Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

[pomefioredove]

Could you write a continuation of 'A Private Meeting" where it's revealed Rook was messing with them in some shape or form?

I've been thinking about this prompt and this is my ideal outcome. double post for today!!

part one

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a private meeting (rook ending)

summary: yuu makes a list of the top five cutest third years. the following-following conversation type of post: short fic characters: technically rook, vil is there, so is epel additional info: romantic I think, idk, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Well, that was a complete waste of an evening,"

Vil takes long, graceful strides into the dark Pomefiore lounge. It's already past ten, and most of the dorm is asleep.

Not him, though.

An inexplicable sense of disappointment is heavy on his perfectly postured shoulders tonight. He would never admit it aloud, perhaps not even to himself, but he was greatly looking forward to unfurling that piece of paper and reading his name.

He stops.

"I don't know why I even bother," he mutters to himself, just loud enough for his vice housewarden to hear.

"Ah, do not be so forlorn, my Roi du Poison! You already know the prefect holds you dear. There is not a doubt in my mind that your beautiful name was the first on that list!"

"...And frowning like that will give you wrinkles."

Vil turns over his shoulder to glare at Rook.

"Not that. This,"

There are a pair of muddy boot prints sprawling all across the pristine lounge, already dry and caked over the perfect carpet.

Vil doesn't need to be a hunter like Rook to know what creature they came from.

"Epel,"

Rook peers over the housewarden's shoulder, and tsks. "Shall I have a word with him? He's likely still awake,"

"No, no. You've done enough tonight," Vil says. "I'll handle this."

He leaves the lounge, and his vice housewarden, behind. This evening had already been more than frustrating, and he was not going to spiral over a little mud.

"Felmier," he opens the door without knocking. "Here. Now."

Even if he were not intimately familiar with the room and bed assignments for each dorm, he would know which blanketed lump was Epel.

Only one of them jumped, anyway.

Epel peers out from under his covers like a small child.

"...Now?"

"Do not make me repeat myself,"

He hesitates, and slowly slips out of bed, and comes to the door. Vil pulls him into the hallway as to not disturb the well-behaved students.

"I have already had an impossibly tedious day, and what do I come back to find? You, all over the carpet in the lounge. How many times do I have to tell you to wipe your feet before coming inside? Are you a toddler?"

Epel winces. "...Slipped my mind,"

"Of course. Of course," he mutters. "You will be responsible for your mess. Dawn. I want all of it gone before breakfast."

Vil was expecting him to argue, or, Sevens forbid, negotiate, but Epel says nothing.

And then: "Where were you, anyway?"

His eyes narrow. "I don't see how that's any of your concern,"

"Meeting?"

"Do not change the subject,"

"...Cause I saw Ortho about two hours ago, and he said-"

Vil takes a deep, calming breath. Now is not the time to spiral. He needs sleep. He needs quiet.

Epel blinks. "...I'm not trying to antagonize you or nothing. I just thought you should know,"

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Know what, Epel?"

"...That I have the list,"

Pause.

Vil looks down at the boy. Had he heard that right? No, he couldn't possibly-

"The prefect let me keep it after the party. I thought it was funny, so..." Epel looks away, almost sheepishly. "I have it in my desk right now."

Many, many new possibilities come from this. Epel is lying. He's distracting him. There's no way...

Vil is quiet. He should scold Epel for fibbing, but the slight possibility that he's telling the truth...

...that the real list is in that room, right now, with Vil's name on it...

"Show me,"

Epel disappears into the quiet room, and comes back with a folded piece of lined paper, almost exactly identical to the one Grim had eaten.

On the back is a game of hangman, and, unmistakably, the prefect's handwriting.

"I don't understand," Vil murmurs. "If this is it, what did we have?"

Epel shrugs. "Mix up?"

"No," he says, turning over the paper in his hands. "Rook would have checked. Thoroughly. He would have known..."

He stops. The thought hits him before he can even finish his sentence.

"...Unless..."

Vil's perfectly manicured fingers slide under the fold of the paper and open it.

There, in the prefect's familiar handwriting, is a list.

At number one: Rook Hunt.

Not a doubt in his mind, huh?

Vil re-folds the paper, confiscates it in his pocket, and looks down at Epel.

"Go to bed. You'll start looking undead if you keep staying up this late,"

"But-"

"No buts," he says firmly, turning to walk back in the direction he'd come from. "And... You may sleep in. Forget about cleaning the lounge tomorrow."

"-I have someone else who needs to be reminded of his place."

[carigm]

DISCUSSION ABOUT EL’S POTENTIAL ENDING

So Millie has been giving a lot of interviews lately promoting her latest film Damsel, and ofc interviewers have been trying to get some ST5 info out of her. (We all saw that clip where Mlvn got mentioned to her and the face she made lol)

Well there are two new interviews in which Millie talks about El and they are making me kind of nervous…for lack of a better word.

The first is this one…

She was asked what song helps her cry, and she said “when it’s cold I’d like to die” Now that song famously plays every time a character dies on ST, so it wouldn’t be weird for an actor in the show to associate it with sentimental emotions. However, what concerns me a bit is that she mentions that this is “El’s theme” uh??? Since when girl??

The other interview I’ve already seen it floating around so I won’t add a clip, but she was basically asked about whether she knows how it ends for her character. She goes on to say that she asked for a meeting with the Duffers and she saw a board with her character’s fate and went “ohhhh” and slowly walked out.

I’m not gonna lie that answer is not inspiring happiness in me.

I don’t think the Duffers will “traditionally” kill El. In the sense that I don’t think they would fully kill her off (that would be too fucked up). I do wonder if her character will be around after Vecna has lost and the supernatural has gone away, though. Will she somehow disappear after the conflict is gone? Was she part of a bigger allegory or metaphor related to the supernatural plot of the show?

In the original pitch, the Duffers described El and Mike’s relationship as an Elliot and ET bond. ET is an alien, therefore at the end of the movie he has to leave Earth. He can’t stay there with the other characters. Are we gonna see something similar regarding El? She won’t die but maybe she has to go/be somewhere else?

I don’t want to alarm anyone it’s just that I feel like I’m putting some pieces together here lol…

The Duffers also admitted after S2 came out that El was originally written to “die”, as in she was gonna disappear when she took out the demogorgon. However, they changed their minds when the show got renewed for more seasons. Nonetheless, the Duffers have said that their ending for S5 draws inspiration from the ending of S1.

What the hell are they referring to with this???

I’m also aware that Millie is an actress and she’s drumming up suspense for the show. I know she has admitted to lying in interviews just for fun too. Can’t really trust an actor ever, but I do wonder if we’re seeing some truth from her here.

What do you guys think? Any theories?

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me? Pt 1

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife

Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit

This gif 🥵 fuck me please

“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.

“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”

“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.

“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.

“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.

He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.

Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.

“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.

“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”

“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”

“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.

Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.

You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.

He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.

"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.

“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.

The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.

Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.

The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.

’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’

“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”

“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.

“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”

“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.

“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”

“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.

“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”

“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.

“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.

“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.

Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.

A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.

“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.

There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.

The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.

“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.

“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.

“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.

“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.

“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.

“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.

“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.

“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.

You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.

You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.

Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.

Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.

He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.

Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.

He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.

“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.

“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.

Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.

“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.

You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.

“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.

His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.

He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.

This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.

“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”

His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.

“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.

“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.

You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.

You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.

He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.

Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.

“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”

You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.

“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.

“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.

“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.

“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”

“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.

“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.

His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.

He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.

You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.

“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”

Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.

“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”

“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.

“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.

“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.

“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.

You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.

He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”

He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.

You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.

That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.

Part Two

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