#so you can't help but feel a little bad for her and it becomes easier to understand what she actually means

[commander-frostii]

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should���ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[awbublie]

wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

V:

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[demonicbaby666]

Where I Don’t Belong

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Kara Danvers x fem!Reader

Genre: angst & smut

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, spanking, oral, fingering, strap-on use, degradation (like a little tiny bit), daddy kink, overstimulation, implied squirting, top!Kara, bottom!reader

Summary: Never one to deal with rejection healthily, you find yourself moving from bed to bed, night after night, trying to find solace in the bouts of pleasure strangers offer. But when Kara, the person who drove you to commit such deeds, confronts you, the trajectory of your evening is completely altered.

A/n: I'm rewatching Supergirl, so reap the benefits, peeps, cause after this, it's back to my JJ fic! Also, @rafesgfs didn't let me smoke until I finished this, so it's thanks to her that this was completed today <3

Festering shame that started the night at only a simmer boils over and burns your whole body, sets your skin alight and sloshes the alcohol sitting in your empty stomach in tight circles, like that of a washing machine. It's fucking filthy. Hot, sticky and filthy being pressed up against a stranger, grinding against a hardening cock in hopes that maybe the moderate length of it will taper the resounding feeling you hold for another. 

Everyone deals with rejection in their own way.

Sweat marks your forehead, and the bitter smell of stale spirits permeates your nostrils. Somehow, you convince yourself all you know is the music and the empty promises the body behind you has to offer.

You hear him mutter something, groan in your ear at how you feel so good, how he can't wait to fill you, stretch you. The churning in your gut intensifies, and your throat is thick with bile. You force yourself to moan–ever the obedient woman. He wants to feel wanted; you want the same. It's easy to use each other, get lost in a bit when there will be no consequences, knowing the following morning you'll be gone, and two people will have a hollow sense of satisfaction buzzing between only their legs. It's what you tell yourself; 'It's easier this way', 'You're doing what you need to cope and survive', and 'You're only human'. 

The dancing - if it can be called that - continues with your eyes shut as you try to alleviate the steady burn of desire coated in sticky shame. Addled with flashing lights, the black behind your eyelids brings you little comfort, but you're no longer naive to think anything really will, other than sex, that is. 

It's mucky, the alleyway by the side of the club. The thick air smells like bad decisions and cigarettes, yet you haven't the mind to care. His lips are rough on your neck, stubble rubbing uncomfortably against your collarbone, and you're beginning to pick apart the scent of his sweat under the worn-out notes of cologne. Crazed hands palm at your breasts so manically it becomes hard to derive any pleasure from the act - you force yourself to try. 

Between all the frenzy, your purse slips past your shoulder, landing on the soggy ground, and you find yourself welcoming the reprieve the opportunity garners. 

You spin around, trying to squint past the inebriation to locate it. It's landed short of a murky puddle, and you thank your lucky stars that there were only a few specks of dirt littering the suede material. The effects of endless nights spent dancing and fucking echo in the cracks of your worn-out muscles, your squatting position not helping to dull the ache at all. You know the longer this position is held, the more it'll hurt to stand up, but your reflection stares at you on the surface of brown water, holding you hostage with a haunted picture painting its canvas. 

Sleepless nights tug at the bags under your eyes, leaving the skin gaunt. The colour does not show, but you know, under your concealer, it's tinged purple. There's no shine to your face; highlighter only takes you so far in accentuating your cheekbones and brightening your false smile, never filling the devoid look of a rejected, broken heart. 

The matter of fact is, even if your body is feeling the brunt of unfavourable coping mechanisms, it's better than lying awake in bed and relying on benign hope to see you through the dark hours of the day. 

Brushing the muck off your bag, ready to discover how you would end the night, you look to where your companion should be waiting. It would either be a cheap hotel or his place, never yours; there was something too visceral about doing a stranger in a bed that not even alcohol could mask. 

Except when you turn, it is not a gruff face you find but, "Kara?" 

Confusion marks your face, the question of where your soon-to-be fuck had gone evident because before you can quite finish, let alone begin to ask, Kara's already opening her mouth. 

"He's fine." 

"Where?" 

"What?" she feigns ignorance, picking at a pristine nail. 

"Don't be coy, Danvers," you spit out, trying to sound as authoritative as a whisper would allow. Angry as you might be, no amount of rage or blood toxicity could divest you of the need to keep her secret. "Where is he?" 

She doesn't even try to hide it—the disgust. Her face is awash with it, and her grimace would sting if she hadn't so wounded you already. 

"He's lucky I didn't-" She startles as you step forward, palms jabbing at her chest and knocking her back. If it weren't for the shock of your sudden strike, you're sure she wouldn't have budged at all, but you take the small victory point all the same and continue your mission of forcing Kara off her high horse. 

"You didn't what?" you ask through gritting teeth, "Beat him to a pulp? Drop him off the top of a building? Kill him?!" 

Aware you were now raising your volume to a level bystanders would be able to hear, a fact proven by the far-off looks of a group of young women, you reined your fury in, taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders. 

"Do you know what you've put me through?" she asks without malice, her choked voice chinking your amour. It seems a genuine question, born from betrayal. Her eyes are wide and waiting, incredulous to believe you'd ever knowingly hurt her in the way you supposedly had. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Every night," she begins, her jaw twitching. "I have to listen to you with them." 

"You're the one that said we wouldn't work. I'm trying to move on," you sigh.

There's a change in her, a nerve hit, partially hidden by the darkness of the night, but you can sense the change. You see it dance in the narrow shadows of her face, the street lamp illuminating the crux of her soured expression. It's the same stance she's practised over the years, standing before a foe, sizing them up that she now models. Her pupils dilate as her gaze turns predatory, and her nostrils flare to accommodate the substantial drags of air she inhales. With a single stride forward, purpose chiselling at her grinding jaw, fingers move to your hips and hold you firm enough to leave bruises. 

She pulls you into her. The bump of your hipbones clashing against each other vibrates down your legs and weakens your knees, leaving you at the mercy of Kara's hold. 

"By sleeping with the whole of National City?" she seethes, her sharp remark losing more and more of its potency with each puff of exhaled air landing on your lips. 

"What was I supposed to do? You made it perfectly clear you don't want to fuck me!" you yell, the pugnacious timbre of your voice unrecognisable in your ears. 

Gasps bounce off the narrow walls of the alleyway, and incoherent whispers promise gossip will follow you and Supergirl for the next few weeks. You can see it now: a hot news story, the presenter dissecting a blurred image of you and Kara, berating, conspiring, and alluding to anything that will bring in more viewers. 

"I never said that." 

She has you off your feet in less than a second, one arm wrapped around the back of your knees and the other raised skyward. You're off the ground, soaring up and up, till the bodies below turn to ants and the city their humble colony. 

"Kara," you screech, throwing your hands around her neck and holding tight. "What are you doing?" 

"I think what I'm doing is pretty obvious." She's got a smug smile tugging at the corner of her lips that's both titillating and vexing. 

"You're being obtuse on purpose, and it's not nearly as cute as you think." 

Kara at least has the decency to look a little sheepish at that. 

You know the city's landscape well enough to gauge where you're headed. Once a sanctuary, the lofty apartment greets you with its open windows and dim lighting. The TV is on. The faraway laughter of a sitcom audience grows louder the closer you get, igniting a flame to shed light upon shrouded memories once untouched by melancholy. Buttered popcorn still lives in the cracks of that grey couch, the longevity of their stay prolonged by a burning need shared between two people to laugh a little louder and forget the world around them for a little longer. 

You're helpless to the flood of emotions that sweep over you the instant your feet touch solid ground. So much so that when Kara grows bold, dragging you closer by your hips and crashing her lips onto yours, you do nothing but cling to her. 

She's warm like the first fire forged on winter's night and as dangerous as the spitted flames that crackle through damp logs, leaping towards any surface they might set alight. No matter how often the licks of fire eat away minuscule patches of skin, the brief bouts of pain they elicit will always win out in favour of staving off the cold. 

The delve of Kara's tongue into your mouth seeks to devour you, plunging your stomach into the fiery pits of hell, and you let yourself believe, not for the first time, that the only way you'll ever feel alive is to live in heated moments like these. 

The strangers you'd laid with took and took, using your body in much the same way you used theirs, imagining you were someone else, or happily viewing you as no one at all, just a body bred for pleasure. These dalliances may have been brief and fleeting, but they were safe. By morning, it wouldn't matter if expectations weren't met; there would be no discourse about seeing one another again. The sex was transactional. It was a dynamic you'd never have and would never want to have with Kara. What you feel for her runs deeper than one-night stands and self-destructive choices. 

"Stop." You step away from the blonde, unaware of how close you are to the edge of the windowsill, until it's too late and the sharp corner of brick bites at the back of your ankles, knocking you off balance. 

You want to fall, feel the wind against your back as you wait for the inevitable end. Kara doesn't let that happen. She doesn't even allow you the grace to right yourself before her hands are back on you, this time at your waist, whooshing you away from the cool breeze of the open widow. 

"Are you okay?" she asks, holding tighter than strictly necessary, eyes frantically searching for any signs of distress. 

"I'm fine." There's an urge to have her closer again, to feel her pressed firmly against your front, trace the seam of her lips with your tongue and discover how pliant the Kryptonian would become under your touch. 

"Tell me you don't want this," she whispers, lowering her gaze from your eyes to your lips. 

"I-"

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll take you home. Pretend that none of this ever happened." 

You want so badly to do that, to rein in your desires and do the sensible thing that would save you from bludgeoned heartbreak. 

"You know I can't." 

A beat passes, charged, and laden before the both of you pounce. Kara drags you forward, melding her mouth to yours, encouraged by your hands at the back of her neck. 

"I've missed you," she mutters between kisses, holstering your legs up around her hips. 

It's a puzzle how she manages to continue winding you up into a mess, nibbling and suckling at your neck whilst simultaneously navigating her way through the apartment, all the way to her bedroom. On her unwrinkled sheets, she sets you down, prying herself away long enough to rid you of your clothing. There's a flicker of something dark in her eyes as she casts her eyes up and down your naked body, stopping at the places you know your previous lovers had marked. 

Cords strain in her throat, and you know she's fighting to keep sane at the sight of her property being tarnished with ugly bruises and clumsy scratches. You yank her forward, digging your fingers into the space between her gold belt and the blue fabric of her suit, aimlessly trying not to think about how vulnerable you are sitting stark naked whilst she presides over you, judging you for your poor decisions. Pleading silently for clemency, to be absolved of a crime you never knowingly committed, you stare up at Kara. You urge her to see the fidelity in your heart that will always gleam brightly in your eyes the second she comes into view. Her features remain stoic.

"You knew, didn't you?" 

"I don't-" She cuts you off, ripping your hands away, flipping on your stomach and pinning you down to the bed. 

"You knew that I would be able to hear you. That I would be listening to the sounds of you getting fucked over and over again." The harsh bite of her palm rings in the gelatinous flesh of your ass. 

A perverse pang of pleasure shoots straight to your core, tearing a muffled moan out from your throat. 

"You like that, don't you?" Kara questions, her self-satisfied lilt a clear sign she's already aware of the answer. "You want me to punish you, don't you?" 

"Yes," you weakly admit, burying your shame in the sheets below. 

"Don't move." 

A gust of chilling air is all that's left of Kara. You can feel her moving around the room in bursts of movement, hear the drop of her clothes, and the opening and closing of drawers. A niggling need coaxes over your limbs, tempting them to wriggle and writhe with each new sound that piques your interest. You're getting wetter by the second, imagining all the ways you'll finally find your release with the only person you've ever wanted it with, the imagery enticing enough to send your want into overdrive and your hips angling forward, seeking any friction you can get against your aching clit. 

"Don't even think about it." The blonde tuts, her presence welcome as she settles behind you. A hand clasps around each ankle, and Kara drags you back with little care for the hiss you make as cotton brushes against your sensitive nipples. "Get on your hands and knees." 

You follow her orders, waiting for her touch that never comes. Instead, Kara crouches down, keeping a hair's width away from where you need her most and blows lightly over your sex. You shiver, trying your hardest not to flinch as her breath cools your warm slick. 

"You're dripping," she comments lowly, teasing a single finger through your slit. 

It's impossible not to lean back into the much-needed touch and command more with the insistent rise and fall of your hips. But Kara's prepared. She withdraws, maintaining her proximity to you. Another puff of air bristles against your cunt, this time colder. 

"Kara, please," you beg, shaking with ardent need. 

There's no warning to her tongue delving into your pussy, no preemptive to her harsh approach and fast licks. Left to your own devices, your arms give out. You're left crying into a pillow and gripping onto sheets as Kara runs a muck of your mind and body. The pressure's teetering on the brink of being too harsh, and no matter how much you try to pull away–ease the sting of her pointed tongue against your clit–Kara holds you open, gripping onto your thighs like a vice. 

Your moans carry. They vault through the bedroom and ring between the obscene wet sounds coming from between your legs. There's barely time to release another before lips surround your bundle of nerves and drag the abused bud into a waiting mouth. It's painful and perfect all at once. There's no break from the pleasure. It's all-encompassing, surrounding you like morning fog seeping into the pores of your skin, covering every inch of your bare body in a blanket of sheen sweat. 

A scream tears from your throat when Kara plunges two fingers inside you, and you use the last dregs of sanity within you to bite down on your arm. She's picking up speed faster than you can adjust. The brief milliseconds between every jagged thrust dwindle until all you feel is a constant vibration, a never-ending hum expanding over the entire length of your sopping cunt. 

The coil in your stomach is wound so tight you can feel your muscles contract, and the pressure grows rigid like a metal rod along your spine. With one sharp slap to your ass, you break. Moans are pouring out of you, and your pulse is racing, but where you expect relief to flow, you only find more tension. It doesn't stop. The roaring waves of pleasure keep growing and growing and growing till you're screaming and shaking and begging for reprieve. 

"One more," Kara pants, replacing her mouth with a thumb. "Give me one more baby." 

How anything can hurt so much yet, yield such strong undercurrents of insurmountable bliss is mind-boggling. You're in limbo, stuck on the edge of euphoria and torment. It's a fine line that Kara forces you to walk, but with no other option, you absorb yourself into the pleasure and leave behind the bite of overstimulation. 

You know you can, that you'd cum however many times she wanted. You've been riding the aftershocks of your orgasm for no less than a minute, and already you recognise the signs of your impending release. It happens fast, but what it lacks in duration, it makes up for in magnitude. Every part of you quakes, from your wobbly lip to your unsteady knees, that collapse beneath you. Thankfully, the sturdy mattress catches you, greeting you with its cool exterior–a welcome change from the heat emanating off your body. 

Floorboards creek behind you, dulled by the non-stop thud of blood pumping through your ears. You want to tell Kara that she needs to stop. You need a break. The command dies on your tongue, melted into a contented sigh by the warm lips pressing along your spine and the puffs of cool air following each peck. 

"Tell me when you're ready," she croons hot and heavy into your ear, sending another chill down your spine as she continues her mission of being your personal air-con. 

"I don't know if I can," you reply, turning to face her, but the action is cut short when you feel the end of her prodding at your entrance. The only thing left for you to do is whimper. 

Kara doesn't push any further. The tip of her faux cock leisurely slides between your slit, swinging up and down. Warmth circulates low in your stomach, and small jolts of gratification swing like a pendulum against the walls of the enclosed area. Her hands clasp around your waist, and you brace yourself for impact, expecting Kara to sink into you. The chime of your rough breathing fills the silent space. Nothing happens for a few seconds, then Kara firms her grip and guides you onto your back. You let her, unopposed to finally seeing her golden locks, shimmering eyes and bright smile. 

She's hovering, holding herself on sturdy arms and waiting for the go-ahead. Even now, with desperation etched into her features, looking almost pained at having to wait, Kara still puts you first. Your wants, needs, and desires all outrank reason and logic. It doesn't matter that all she's known the past few years is heroism and gallantry–that she yearns to separate herself from all of it–she'll be Supergirl for a few seconds, applying that restraint she's had to use since the day she landed on earth. She'll hold herself back for you. 

Looking into her crazed eyes, you nod. She's held back long enough for you, her family, and the world. 

"I'm ready." You place your hands on her lower back, pulling Kara forward till she's fully seated inside of you, stretching you so wide it almost burns. "Fuck me like I'm yours." 

The world fades away as you watch Kara's eyes harden, two piercing sapphires eclipsed by blackened lust and an impassioned demand to possess. Immediately, she begins pummeling into you at a brutal pace. 

"I heard what you called them," Kara grits out, her eyes red, her hips stilling the moment her cock roots itself as far into you as it can get. "What you cried out when you imagined they were me."

"Don't stop," you plead between guttural breaths, scratching at her impenetrable skin. 

"I want you to say it. I want you to tell me how you're going to cum on daddy's dick." 

This is all so unlike Kara, and that very thought–that this version of her is all yours and only yours, that you get to see her feral and unencumbered by the scruples of morality and duty–has you beyond desperate. 

"Yes." You hiss at the blunt edge of Kara's hip, knocking against you as she forces herself impossibly deeper. "I'm going to cum all over your cock, daddy." 

Your complacency draws rewards. Kara is back to pounding into you. 

There's something new occurring within you, a sudden pressure forcing Kara out. You can't understand it, not between the shudders running rampant through your body, so strong they feel more like convulsions. Her thumb is steady and swift over your clit, circling the swollen nub till everything becomes too much, and all you see are blazing white lights scattering and interspersing themselves across your vision. 

You can feel your cum rush out of you, spraying onto Kara's cock the moment she leaves you. With every added second, her thumb stays working over your clit, and the push to release everything in you is flooding through the bedsheets, soaking the material through to the mattress. The white lights fade, and Kara's face emerges for only a brief moment before all you see is black. 

—

"Kara?" 

"Mmh." 

"I won't wait forever for you to be ready," you say quietly, fingers skimming through the valley of her breasts. "I can't." 

"I know," she sighs, burrowing her nose into your hair and inhaling. She closes her eyes, and you feel her puckered lips on your scalp. "I know." 

Taglist: @iliketozoneout @homo-oddity @noahrex @lovelyy-moonlight @yeaiamme2 | Click here to be added to my taglist

[3amfanfiction]

Chapter One

Summary: You meet Simon under unique circumstances. When you run into him again you can't help but fall into his orbit. A story of strangers to lovers to friends.

content warnings/tags: None

~~~~

How did you get here? What were you thinking letting your partner talk you into this?

You watched the others in the room. People looking curiously. Not at you but at the twining fabric holding you aloft, the exquisite ropes highlighting your skin, showcasing the curve of your body. No one lingered though. It was the space of moments before they would look away, searching for the next thing, the next piece of artistry.

They moved through the room as if you weren't there. You were simply an object—something of little import that was nothing to bother with. They couldn't see you through the ropes which hid you in plain sight masterfully, allowing no one access. Not that anyone was looking.

It was what you wanted.

Honestly.

You kept your expression serene as you watched them. Watched the way they walked, the way they spoke, how she trailed her hand here, how they leaned in to whisper there, it was hypnotic.

Your partner was standing behind you. You couldn't see him but you could feel the tugs on the ropes as he continued weaving. He was the artist and you were the canvas, simply there to display his work.

You wanted this. You did. It just wasn't how you had envisioned it.

You didn't want to be seen. The idea of people looking and seeing you made you want to vomit. It was easier fading into the background. Being the center of attention never ended in anything good. Bad things tended to happen to those in the spotlight.

Still.

You wanted them to look at what you had become. You wanted them to stop and admire the way you hung in the air, the way your arms and legs bent just so, the way your whole body was supported with plump fat rolls spilling out between where the lines crossed.

You wanted them to appreciate how beautiful you were.

You were beautiful, weren't you?

You felt the sliver of doubt creep up your spine. It showcased itself in a shiver, a wave of goosebumps breaking out. Your breath hitched before picking up a tick, your body preparing for something. Something that could go wrong? Something that was already going wrong?

What did your mind see that your conscious hadn't picked up on yet?

You wanted reassurance but it was sorely lacking. Nothing was heard from behind you except for his breathing; the occasional brush of his fingers didn't herald a soft caress, simply a perfunctory touch as he continued the binding.

You could have spoken up.

You knew that if you said something he would stop. Stop and come around and talk to you, cup your face, give you a kiss. He would be soft. He would be lovely. You just needed to ask.

But everyone would look.

You wouldn't be able to hide behind the ropes at that point. Everyone would see and talk. About you. About what you needed, what you couldn't accomplish, how you couldn't do the one thing you were here tonight to do.

It would be your undoing.

No, you wouldn't do it. You would be fine. Nothing had happened tonight and nothing would happen tonight. You could handle this.

You blinked, surprised at the dryness of your eyes. You realized you had been staring while you spiraled. Nothing new there, but what was new was where you were staring.

It was at a man and he was looking back at you.

You watched him purposefully now, instead of your eyes only resting on him because he was there, curious about this hulking behemoth. He was tall and wide and looked like he could tuck you up under one of his arms. He kept his face covered with a dark mask, even in the privacy of the House.

Curiouser.

You wondered if he was hiding too and what from. Maybe his mask acted like your ropes. Giving the eye something to be drawn to rather than seeing the person behind them. It sent a twinge of twinship through your soul, a quick ping that said 'I am here' without words.

You dropped your gaze as a rope was tugged a hair too sharply, setting you to rocking gently in the frame, the slight motion at odds with the steadiness you should be experiencing. You breathed through the momentum, watching the ground with focus as you slowed then stopped, still once more.

You could hear your boyfriend humming to himself.

You watched as boots stepped into the radius of what you could see with your head dropped as it was. They were thick black monstrosities which looked capable of breaking any toes or fingers they stepped on. You wondered if it was only the careless that got caught under their tread or if they went out of their way to find fragile pieces to crush.

What kind of person would wear those boots?

You didn't look up—content to keep your face lowered, examining the different parts of the shoes that you could see. Your brain was caught on the pattern of the overlapping laces, the smooth curve of the vamp holding the toes, the even thickness of the sole as it followed directly underneath the shoe, never varying or straying outside it's role.

Actually, maybe they were nice boots.

You only had to shift your gaze to see the person who crouched down in front of you, elbows on their knees, hands dangling between their thighs. It was him. The man from before. The one you had been staring at.

Why did he come over here? Everyone else passed by, never bothering to stop longer than a few moments before continuing on. What drew him to you?

You found yourself looking him in the eyes, aware of where your gaze landed this time, as he stared back. Deep, dark brown eyes peered over the mask, taking your measure, watching you.

What did he see through the ropes?

Could he see you?

You felt very visible right now.

He studied you while you studied him, unabashedly staring, no words spoken. Just quiet space shared between two strangers meeting for the first time.

What did he see, what did he see, what did he see?

Without a word he stood and stepped out of sight, off to the side. You gave an aborted twitch in your ropes, head turning to try and keep him in view as he walked around you but it was useless. The ropes held you in place, ensuring you were unable to do more than follow him for a short while before he was too far behind you.

No, wait, come back please. Don't leave yet.

You heard low murmuring behind you. He was speaking with your partner. As hard as you tried you couldn't make out what they were saying, the ambient noise of the room plus the quiet background music playing distorted it just enough that you could only tell that a conversation was happening.

It went silent before he came back around, crouching once more before reaching out and cupping a hand against your cheek, the warmth startling against the chill that was slowly making its way into your bones, dressed only in undergarments as you were.

Your breath shuddered on the exhale when you trembled ever so slightly, watching, waiting for what would happen next.

He didn't smile at you. Didn't offer pretty words or dramatic gestures. He just held your face, keeping your eyes focused on his. His thumb rasping back and forth against the high of your cheekbone was his only movement, seemingly pleased to look at you as long as you were looking back.

As you slowly calmed he moved his hand, cradling the bottom of your jaw and slipping his thumb between your teeth to rest on your tongue. Drool instantly started to pool in your mouth, slipping around the seal of your lips. You weren't sure what he wanted at first but as he continued to hold his thumb pressed against your tongue without moving it, you slowly relaxed to cradle it, giving him a soft pillow to rest on. Your teeth closed around his second knuckle, pressing light indents into the skin once you rested your weight on his palm, allowing him to keep you steady.

You didn't notice the noise in the room fading into the background or your breathing steadying as you watched him watch you. Steady eyes boring into yours, subsuming you, taking everything that you were and holding it.

You were sinking without a word being spoken. His brown eyes filling your vision until they were all you could see, his warm palm all you could feel, his roughened skin all you could taste, his rhythmic breathing all you could hear.

Time passed, both slowly and all at once. You didn't notice your boyfriend finishing and stepping away, didn't hear him talking to the man in front of you, unable to tell anyone what their conversation was about.

When he stood up, centuries later, his knees creaked loudly, with a sharp crack as he fully straightened, expressing their displeasure at him staying crouched in a stressful position for such a long time. You couldn't even wince in sympathy, your mind molasses slow and moving sluggishly.

He slid his thumb from between your teeth—soggy and covered in drool—and slid it into his own mouth, taking a taste of you for himself.

Your first sign of life was when your breath hitched as he stepped away, putting space between you two for the first time in eons.

He didn't stop to talk to you—moving away with a smooth tread, swallowed back up by the people still lingering in the room, gone from sight in the blink of an eye.

You never even got his name.

\\\

Two months later

You enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your arms, spring well underway and the temperature finally rising up into comfortable range. Others around you seemed to feel the same way if the frequent smiles you saw on your walk back from the grocers had anything to say about it. Your bag of food swung heavily from one shoulder, straps digging into the delicate skin painfully.

You readjusted the bag for the nth time as you swung around the corner, not watching where you were going. Within a single step you ran full tilt into a body, bouncing off it to go tumbling onto the sidewalk, bag spilling out beside you.

You sat for a moment where you had landed, brain trying to reconcile your new position relative to the ground before it finally rebooted. Just in time for a hand to enter your peripheral, too.

Jerking your head up you made eye contact with the man standing above you offering a hand. The sun was directly behind him, casting his face in shadow where he was bent over making it impossible to see who it was. Taking the proffered hand you stood up, able to see his face much more clearly once you were on your feet again.

It was the man from that night.

You had resigned yourself to never seeing him again, a stranger—the one who might have been. You never expected to literally run into him.

A smile broke out across your face, lighting up your eyes in excitement.

"It's you."

When he didn't respond beyond a blink you scrambled to explain, "I saw you a couple of months ago. I was being tied up and you came and sat with me."

Oh god. What if he sat with people all the time so that didn't narrow it down? What if you were just one in a long string of people who thought they had a connection but he was only treating the House as it was supposed to be treated, a no-strings window of opportunity to see other's hedonism.

You needed to get out of here.

You rushed to pick up your items that had scattered when you fell, shoving them back into your bag haphazardly, paying no mind to the bread that ended up below the cans.

"I'm sorry for running into you, I wasn't watching where I was going. I'll be more careful going forward!" you said in a hurry, eager to leave before you embarrassed yourself further. Shrugging the bag back onto your shoulder you gave a flash-point quick smile to the handsome man before stepping to the side, preparing to walk around him.

"Simon."

Your head snapped towards his, shocked at the deep rumble of his voice. You hadn't been able to hear him clearly at the House, just a low hum when he had spoken to your partner. It was electric now, running fingers up your spine in a gentle caress, sparks branching off as you gave a slight shiver.

"Sorry?"

"My name. It's Simon."

Oh. Simon. That was a lovely name. Simon. Simon. Si-mon. Ssiiiiiii—

Stop it.

You quickly introduced yourself with a small smile, rocking back on your heels as you studied him in the light of day.

He was handsome, you could tell that even with the mask. Maybe because of it. Time would tell. But he certainly seemed attractive.

You were taken aback by the size of him, this time emphasized with a tight black tshirt under his jacket and a pair of denim blue jeans encasing his thick thighs.

You wanted him in your mouth again and you weren't picky about which body part it was.

Coming back to yourself, you watched his eyes crinkle in a smirk, as if he was aware of exactly where your mind had gone. With a wave of embarrassment flooding your body you cleared your throat and muttered halfhearted, sorry, his way as you tried to shuffle around him.

"Why don't you make it up to me?" He grunted a laugh at the taken aback expression on your face. "Dirty mind, I meant there's a pastry shop down the road."

Your face heated in embarrassment. Of course that was what he meant. Get your mind out of the gutter, seriously. This was only the second time you'd met him, even if the first was under unique circumstances.

He looked at you steadily, impressing upon you the sincerity of his words. With a breathy, Okay, you found yourself seated across from him, a breakfast sandwich and tea sitting in front of you both.

"I haven't seen you or your partner at the House recently," he mentioned as he pulled his mask down to take a bite.

You were right. He was handsome.

"We're not together anymore so you won't be seeing us again."

He didn't say anything as he continued to chew, just hummed a low hmm that invited further explanation.

"I realized we weren't really compatible,"—you picked up your tea to have something to do with your hands—"our needs didn't quite line up so we decided to split amicably."

"Sorry to hear that, love, that must've been difficult."

"No. No, it was for the best. Truly. I'm happier now even if I miss certain parts about being in a relationship." You smiled softly as you thought longingly of movie nights, shared dinners and warm hugs.

You missed the companionship of having a partner. Someone to bounce ideas off of, or to back you up, reassure you that you weren't blowing things out of proportion and that neighbor really was being snotty towards you. Someone to just be there with you.

Simon was looking into your soul again, the same as that first night. He wasn't blinking, wasn't moving, was he even breathing? What was he looking for? Was he going to find it?

You were surprised by how unconcerned you were with his staring. It never came across as malicious, so that might be why. You honestly wouldn't be surprised if there was a bit of social ineptitude mixed in with anything else he had going on. The long silent looks and general disposition painted it's own picture.

Still, it was a relief when he broke the spell and looked away with a grunt, taking the last bite of his sandwich before pulling his mask into place once more.

You glanced down at your half of a sandwich shocked at how fast he'd eaten. You guessed it was a necessity to eat quickly if having his mask off made him uncomfortable.

By the time you were finished with your sandwich and both teas were empty, you and Simon had exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up that weekend for a beer. All in all a pretty successful morning of running errands.

Next

|||

Current Stories || Main Repository

[mythos-writes]

My Ferrari

Toto Wolff x Ferrari principal (wife) reader

Plot: Toto and his wife use the grid as ponds in their plans to mess with each other... inspired by @pucksandpower Social Media AU cause I think it's so cute

Formula 1 Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: fluffy moments, Lewis and Charles getting 'kidnapped', google translated german + italian,

Lewis was walking by the Ferarri paddock, minding his business and preparing for free practice. His music playing in his AirPods, when he heard a voice trying to get his attention.

“Lewis!” a voice gets his attention. He takes out a bud and looks around. He sees (Y/N) Wolff running up to him.

“Hey, (Y/N), what can I do for you?” He asks, still clueless about her plans.

“I want to play with Toto a little, and I need your help,” she explains but keeps it vague.

“Ok, with what?” he asks, not noticing Charles and Carlos coming up behind him.

“GET HIM!” she yells. Lewis feels arms around him, and him leaving the ground. “What are you going?!” he says, trying to not giggle because he knows he won’t get hurt.

“You are going to be my ransom against your famous principal,” She says with a smile. They take him into the garage and to (Y/N)’s office. They place him on a folding chair and tie him up in some take they had found in the garage.

All Lewis could do is give (Y/N) a ‘why do you have to drag me into this’ look. Once the two drivers finished tapping up the other driver, they were giggling like toddlers getting a pass for bad behaviour. “Thanks’ you two, you guys are good to go,” she tells her drivers.

“(Y/N) what is all this for?” Lewis questions, knowing she couldn’t hide things from him. [Things that were non-racing related] 

“I know your season hasn’t been the best, and I just wanted to have some fun. Even though we’re rivals, we’re also family and it hurts seeing Toto come off a race and just look frustrated and sad. So I’m trying to just have some fun,” she tells.

“ I appreciate that you’re trying to cheer him up…BUT… why do you have to drag me into this?” he questions, pulling at the tap a little. 

“Oh, because you’re his golden child, and it would be easier to get Carlos and Charles to carry you than George,” she says while pulling her phone out. “And don’t worry, you’ll be out of the tap, just as soon as I get a picture, to send to Toto,” she states while getting a few pictures. 

"Perfect, now I'm going to take the tap off, but you can't return to the Mercedes paddock just yet," she states. Lewis moves to the couch and lays out. "Yeah, I figured as much."

Toto was walking around the Paddock, looking for Lewis. He wasn’t in his driver's room, and he wasn’t with Roscoe, cause Angela took the pup on his paddock walk. He asked George and the other team members but hadn’t seen him. His phone pings, as he gets a series of texts. He sees his wife's name pop up and he feels a smile grow. But when he opens the texts, he tries not to laugh. 

He is greeted with a photo of Lewis tied up with a nervous face on. The text that followed almost made him laugh...

Toto, I have in my possession I have your precious 7-time champion. If you want him back before free practice, you must meet my demands. If you bring yourself and some food from your catering to your dear wife. Then you’ll leave with your precious driver. If not met, Lewis will become a Ferarri driver

Toto looks up and he see’s Goerge talking to Alex Albon just outside of the paddock. He waived the two over. 

“What can we do for you boos man?” Alex asks. 

“Well you two, I had a job for you…”

Charles was getting ready for the practice and he was doing his normal pre-race routine. Because of this, he didn’t hear George or Alex sneak up behind him. George grabbed his hands and Alex grabbed his legs, and they started to carry him off to the Mercedes paddock. 

“What are you two doing?!” Charles asks, he is confused about why he is being dragged into this. Before they could answer, Ted Kravitz spotted the ‘kidnapping’ of Charles  Leclerc. 

“We have just spotted Alex Albon and George Russell carrying Ferarri’s Charles Leclerc. George what is going on here?” he asks. 

“We’re just working orders by the boss,” he replies as they walk into the garage. 

By now, (Y/N) had untapped Lewis, and he was just chilling out in her office. Her phone pinged, notifying her that she had gotten a text. When she opened it, she was shocked to be greeted by a picture of Charles, tapped up just like how they had Lewis. A text followed the picture that read… 

Two can play this game, Liebe. If you want your driver back, I suggest we make a truce and do a driver swap on neutral ground… in front of the McLaren paddock in 20 minutes. If you can’t meet these requirements, Charles will become the newest Mercedes driver this weekend... Also, bring some of Ferarri's catering coffee, you know how I like my coffee

She showed Lewis the texts, and he just started giggling at Charles's face. The two looked at each other, knowing the fun and games were coming to an end. 

“Well, it looks like we need to stop at the coffee booth before we meet my dearest husband,” (Y/N) comments before getting ready to meet the Meracdes principal. 

The end of the 20 minutes was closely approaching, and by now, the whole grid and paddocks knew what was happening between the two teams. So when they saw Toto standing with George and Charles, at one end, outside of the entrance of McLaren’s paddock. The other racers and team principals were standing outside, waiting for the Ferarri principal and the famous Mercedes driver.

“There they are,” someone yells out. Everyone looked up and saw the people of the hour come walking over, with a minute to spare. (Y/N), Carlos and Lewis stop and face off with Toto, George and Charles.

“Do you have what I asked for?” she yells across, they’re about 2 meters apart. Toto raised a bag, that was filled with her favourites from catering.

“And you?” he questions. She holds up the cup of coffee, made how he likes it. He walks closer, signalling she walks towards him. They meet in the middle and hand off their trades. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, amore,” she says with a smile. Toto rolls his eyes, but he found this whole thing amusing. He brought her into a hug, causing the grid to burst out into comedic cheers.  

“Come find me before heading back to the hotel,” he whispers in her ear. She nods.

“Does this mean we can go back to our teams now?!” Lewis yells. The two laugh at the driver’s antics. 

“Yes, you can go back Lewis,” she says as the two drivers swap back to their right teams.

“May the best team win,” he says with his cheeky smile. “May the best team win,” she replies with the same smile. The FIA marshals come by and dismiss everyone, as free practice was about to start.

After free practice and they had their debriefs, (Y/N) made her way to the Mercedes paddock. She was ready for the qualifying race tomorrow. She notified some of the Mercedes crew to let Toto know that she was there. As she waited for him, she ended up finishing some last-minute emails on her phone.

“ Geez, and they call me a workaholic,” Toto’s voice breaks her concentration. She looked up to see him walking towards her. (Y/N) put her phone away and greeted him with a hug. Both teams performed well in practice and had a bright weekend. 

“Come on, we have a long day tomorrow,” she says, just wanting to get room service and get some well-needed cuddles. They get into the car and made their way back to the hotel. It was quiet for most of the drive. 

“So about the antic you pulled,” Toto broke the silence. She looked over at him in the driver's seat. “That was quite the start of the weekend,” he says, trying to stay stoic. 

“Well, I know that this season hasn’t been the one you were expecting, and I hated coming home and seeing you so disappointed and frustrated. So, I decided to have a little fun,” she explains herself. Toto brought his hand to her lap and wrapped his large hand around her smaller one. He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss against the back of her hand. 

“I appreciate that Liebe, and I must say, I did have fun today,” he says, remembering the way he recruited drivers to do his bidding. She smiles and returned the kiss he just placed on her hand. 

“I’m glad that my plan worked,” she replies. Silence fell between the two, but it was a peaceful and comfortable silence. 

“The next time you plan to kidnap one of my drivers again, I’m just going to steal you and have Charles and Carlos come to rescue you,” he comments, causing her to erupt into laughter. Their relationship had its ups and downs, but right now it was the perfect relationship anyone could dream of. 

~~~~~~~~~

google translate:

German: Love- Liebe

Italian: My Love- amore

[planethibiscus]

What would it be like if the yandere characters from Until Dawn were jealous of Reader?

JEALOUSY 🌸 UD

An: I interpreted the wording of this ask as the characters being jealous of the reader, but if you meant over reader, send another request and I'll write that.

Jessica is an insecure individual. She envies both readers looks and confidence. She ties her appearance to her level of importance, so it shocks her how ugly she feels in comparison to you. How little you seem to prioritise your looks might anger her because she has to fight for her presence to even slightly match yours. It makes her feel undeserving of you, like she's not worthy to be anything more with someone so much better than her.

Emily is a control freak. She envies readers influence. She notices your natural ability to sway others around you almost without trying, and it aggravates her that she doesn't possess that same power. People will do things for you simply because they want to. You don't have to play mind games or even ask. It's unfair. She wants that too, because then you'd be so much easier to make hers.

Hannah is desperate. She envies readers nonchalant manner of being. Hannah could never, she's in too deep with the “I love you”s and “I need you”s. She's so easily swept up in the throes of love that she forgets herself. She doesn't want to be less clingy until she sees how easily you cope without her. She resents you for it, how you're able to just keep on living without every thought being about her, whilst her every thought is about you.

Ashley is lonely. She envies readers ability to make friends. Your easy way of making those around you comfortable is something she wishes she knew how to do. She'd use it on you if she could. Make you open up to her, relax a little beside her, but she can't help feeling that she's creeping you out. She wants to share in your peace of not overthinking simple “hello”s and “how are you?”s because it's driving her insane.

Josh is vindictive. He envies readers compassion. He used to be a loving person to all of his friends in his own silly way, but now he feels like an outsider in his own inner circle. He can't stand these people, he doesn't like them anymore, but you do. It makes him bitter, he wishes he could be as forgiving as you are, but watching you be so warm with them leads him to believe that he's just not as good of a person as you need.

Chris is skeptical. He envies readers trust. Chris does not trust himself around you at all. He feels like he'll screw up something, lose some nerve and say something stupid that'll make you never want to talk to him again. He doesn't like how he's beginning to feel uncomfortable around his friends, but he just can't trust them around you, and he can't trust himself to let his guard down when someone else might hurt you, or god forbid, swoon you first.

Mike is invested. He envies readers indifference. Before he met you, he was an easy man with easy morals. Now he finds himself wanting to settle down, his fear of commitment squashed under your smile. But he knows it's crazy to ask you for anything serious when you hardly know eachother, so for once he'll have to dread playing the slow game instead of feeling empowered by it.

Beth is honest. She envies readers filter. She's always been a truthful type, but since meeting you she's become unable to hold words in. Things she doesn't mean to say will slip out and horrify her. Compliments too deep and specific to be from a friend will leave her lips before she realises she was distracted by your eyes. Biting remarks towards old friends will be spat out in a natural way that she fears will disgust you.

Matt is emotional. He envies readers stability. Head over heels isn't a bad way to be in his opinion, afterall it's quite rewarding to have someone who can immediately give you that dopamine boost, but it's also dangerous. You hold far too much power over his mood. A smile from you can set him up for a whole week. A frown from you can ruin his month.

Sam is smitten. She can't find any reason to be jealous of you. There's no need to envy you because she's simply so lucky to have you, even if you're not actually hers yet. Things she sees in you, she doesn't need to have in herself. You bring those things to her life by being there. You fulfil her by being. That's all.

An2: thank you for your request!

[xjulixred45x]

Platonic! Korra Gang x Chef! Reader

This is the Request of @chantillymoon i hope You're doing good with your Cooking, i'm sure it's fantastic😋! I hope this give you a little motivation💞

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Korra

Korra probably met you in the events of book 1 (did you see the Gala where Mako went with Asami? one of those), you were in food service.

and since Korra was a bit moody and in a new city, you were friendly with her and they got along quite well. You tried to entertain her a little with your cooking (like the chefs in certain Asian places, if you're a firebending master or something like that, even better).

Thanks to this Korra was going to see you when she needed to talk and generally let loose a little. You guys became friends pretty quickly.

If you have your own place, Korra tries to promote you when she interacts with important people and the topic of Catering comes up.

She firmly believes that your food is much better than the holidays food honestly. especially those of Unalaq.

I have a feeling that in the water tribe, especially in the south, there is not a very complex gastronomy thanks to literally living at a pole.

It's a more personal hc, but I think Korra grew up eating mainly fish and its variables (maybe rice and vegetables)

Obviously, she ate more things in her training to be an avatar, but it's not like it was food as such to "eat" but rather those for nutrition purposes.

so when she becomes a friend of yours (cutie) and you give her VERY varied and VERY delicious food, she is delighted.

like “FINALLY something that is nutritious and TASTES GOOD!”

Besides, you cook a lot of variety, so Korra doesn't know where to choose. but she has a big appetite, so it's not unreasonable to think that you probably won't run out of leftovers with her.

If you're stressed about a particular recipe, she may try to help you by giving you a hand with things in the kitchen that she knows she can't screw up, like reading you the recipe book or handing you things, all while trying to joke with you to relax you and make you laugh.

If you want a definitive break, flour war! Whoever ends up completely white loses and Naga will have to clean it up!

Now, apart from improvised or high-survival food, Korra doesn't cook shit, she doesn't know how to handle herself very well, so seeing you be so fluent in that habit is something new for her. Of course, she was used to her parents cooking. but not at your level, so there's a lot of excitement on Korra's part about how you learned all this.

If you try to teach her, can she go either very badly or...decent? which cannot be said whether it is good or bad.

Since at first Korra may even, trying to make things easier (or imitate you, if you use your elemental control to cook) use her avatar skills in the kitchen, which since she has no experience ends very badly 😅 with muddy dough everywhere.

or even with BURNT water in some way??

but after a few attempts and several burnt bouls, Korra gets the hang of it and manages to start improving her cooking skills!

She can make simple meals now at least.

but she always prefers yours, you make them much more delicious, according to her.

Korra is not going to tolerate any destructive criticism of you, who does she have to hit?she's going to scare them with the fucking avatar state🤣😅

Sure, she can TOLERATE constructive criticism because it's not malicious, but she doesn't understand why people eat your products if they're not going to like it anyway?

do not understand.

In general, Korra encourages your vocation a lot and encourages you to try new things with her :3

Asami

Asami knows you because of Varrik, he needed as many staff as possible, including the kitchen, so he hired you as soon as he liked one of your meals without thinking about it.

Asami needed a break from all of Varrik's antics, so she went to the staff areas for a while (without realizing it) and you noticed her state.

So you talked to her while you prepared something simple for her to eat and get energy back.

It was kind of nice, since you didn't feel intimidated by her or what had happened with her father, a breath of fresh air, so you continued seeing each other after that (in a platonic way).

Asami is used to eat in High Quality and/or fancy places before this, and still doing it.

which most of the time is not bad, on the contrary, it usually produces rich and delicious food.

but there are also times when for some people (ahem VARRIKahem) it just needs to be prettier and tasteless to be considered "gourmet" and even if it's not high quality food, Asami sometimes misses the feeling of having a normal meal. .

That's when you come into her life, her bubbly friend, to make things way better.

Asami probably never had a home-cooked meal as such (no, it doesn't count if CHEFS make it for you Asami) so it was a new experience for her. In the good sense.

Instead of eating aesthetically impressive but disgusting food, with you I could eat things that were really modest but that TASTED GOOD.

If you are having problems like not finding someone to give you more advanced cooking classes, don't worry! Asami will give you a hand with her contacts and help you find a good tutor.

If you already have your own place, rest assured that Asami (and in general the entire Avatar team) will come to see you and buy you food often no matter what you sell.

Even if you have any financial problems with the place, Asami has your back and helps you as much as possible. You may even become a constant Catering associate for the company!

Asami also tries not to let her friendship with you affect you so directly, especially when scandals arise with her father.

He goes to you for advice when they go out to eat, your food gives him a certain feeling of peace after all, so when you both go out he can be with a cooler head.

It's a feeling of familiarity that she hasn't felt in a LONG time.

You can definitely see Asami especially liking food with meat or more complicated things, but then again, he also really likes it when you make really simple things, like pasta or pizza, for example.

She says that it is because "you do it with love" and it is partly true, that you put so much effort into the preparation makes it much more special and she appreciates it a lot.

but in general I think she doesn't usually give you negative comments.

I mean, if you happen to screw up some food and it tastes REALLY bad, you know it just by looking at her face, even so she will never give you a "bad" word so to speak, she use very sweet constructive criticism and still assure you that you did a good job.

and you can also guarantee that if there is a particular food that she likes, she will pay you to make a couple of reservations for her ;) she can't help it! She loves how you cook!

If someone tries to criticize you in a non-constructive way and is simply Bullying you, she will directly kick their ass and deal with the consequences then why would someone be mean to a little sun like you? It doesn't make sense to her.

In general, a friend who supports you financially, emotionally and psychologically is always willing to give you a hand in the kitchen.

That's right, don't let her cook☠️ she may hace good intentions but she'll burn everything.

Mako

OMFG he LOVES THE FOOD YOU MAKE FOR HIM.

Now, let's get a little sentimental.

Mako and Bolin growing up on the streets probably never really had much to eat, not to mention they probably didn't eat every day.

especially Mako, I imagine that he probably even gave what little they had to eat to Bolin.

It's a habit for him.

So when he meets you and you give him a taste of your food, for FREE, he thinks you're too good to be true.

but he appreciates it very much.

but seeing how much his opinion matters to you. warms his heart.

For the same reason you could feed him the most disgusting thing you could cook and he would eat it like a big child.

He will tell you the truth, but he doesn't leave a crumb.

For the same reason, I have two possible versions of how the two of you met and became close friends.

One, the one I like the most, is that probably when you were younger and trying to cook on your own, Mako and Bolin tried to steal your food, failing miserably.

But from then on you started leaving food scraps on your window for them to grab so they wouldn't die of hunger.

Thanks to this little by little they began to interact more and even began to help you to apply seriously in the kitchen!

and the other possibility is that he knew you thanks to Pro-control, being the one who will be in charge of the food at the events.

In this scenario at first he would be colder but eventually either because of Bolin or because of your adorable personality, you end up liking him.

other than that he can see that you can't swing a fly, and that you're REALLY passionate about your job, so he respects you a lot for that.

We all know that Mako is more of a tough guy or expresses that he cares through actions, so he shows that he cares by showing interest in your hobby and helping you as much as he can.

But when he already has a stable job and can give you a hand.

When something specific goes wrong, he tries to cheer you up in an unconventional way, such as telling you something about his work to distract you a little or even inviting you something to eat to de-stress.

Maybe even Mako himself has learned to cook from you, of course, he is not at the same level but when you are very stressed or tired he has your back.

and when you manage to do what you want, he sincerely congratulates you, he knows that you deserve it after all.

Similar to his other friends and Bolin, Mako is quite protective of you, especially if you can't control any elements.

It's like the dynamic of "Sunshine + Sunshine protector" basically.

It also tries to help you accept criticism well, which is necessary to improve after all.

Although of course, if there is someone who is telling you shit just because and without really wanting to help you, give them the names, they will not tolerate it.

In general, he is a friend who is a bit rude but who defends you, appreciates you and supports you in your tastes, hobbies and career. regardless of how You two met.

He knows that you are as good a person as you cook well, and you are a VERY good cook ;)

Bolin

Again, HE LOVES THE FOOD YOU MAKE FOR HIM.

Bolin, similarly to Mako, has two possibilities for how he met you.

one more painful than the other.

the first, in which he knew you for trying to steal something from your leftovers when he was little, in itself, living on the streets of a republic city is not nice.

but at least you took pity on him and started leaving him leftovers. which left him EXTRACTED because (according to him) YOU COOKED AMAZING. even if at that time you were just practicing.

Even if you try to tell him that he was probably just saying that because it was his first meal in god knows how long, he still thinks the same thing.

and the second way, unlike his brother, is that he simply found you working somewhere he likes.

Maybe even with his amorous nature, at first he had a crush on you, but over time he realized that it wasn't what he really felt.

In general he is your personal cheerleader.

No matter how many times you fail to make a particular meal, Bolin eats it like his life depends on it. unlike Mako, he doesn't have the heart to say anything even remotely critical of your food :,)

He's also the kind of friend who constantly gives you ideas for new recipes. some good, some not so good, and some quite extravagant.

ex: some dessert based on Pabu.

It breaks Bolin's heart to see you sad when you don't get a particular recipe, but he will immediately move on to a session of giving you compliments and reminding you how you made other recipes to motivate you.

I can definitely see him recommending you to the important people he hung out with when he worked with Varrik, both to do you a favor and to be able to see you in those moments when Mako couldn't pay attention to him.

Bolin's favorite food is definitely desserts. cakes, cupcakes, pies, candies, anything that is sugary.

and if you get to practice making animal food (like for Pabu) Bolin is OVER THE MOON.

I can see Bolin trying to learn cooking things with you, both to spend time together and to be more independent, to help Mako out.

Apart from that, he would have the opportunity to try more of your food :D but he makes a great effort to listen to your advice and follow the instructions you leave him.

The results are quite promising! along with Mako, he is the best cook of the group (hc personal).

Similarly to Asami, he seeks advice from you when he feels left out of the group and doesn't know what to do.

Normally you prepare something hot for him so he doesn't feel so bad. It would probably be his second favorite food of yours, hot soups. In general they remind him of you, a warm and comforting presence.

Bolin is more passive when it comes to criticism and when it is constructive he makes sure to remember it and even writes it down so as not to forget it and thus apply it in his own attempts.

but eventually you can better distinguish between constructive and destructive criticism.

and when someone like that shows up, no matter how strange it may seem, they usually just ignore it. He wants to believe that he is better than them after all...

...only to launch Pabu on the attack in defense of your honor. Although well, didn't you see it coming?

He is generally a very sweet friend, he does not distinguish in social class or how or how long the two of you have known each other. He is convinced that you have genuine talent for cooking.

and he is very willing to show you that you have that talent and support you through everything.

Conclusion: They all love your food but they love the person behind that food more and how you support them in difficult times :,)

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome!

Thank you very much for this Request ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[liquidorcard]

HEY Y'ALL IT'S MIKAILER WITH AN "ER" WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO GRASP!?

---

Did I get your attention, Mikaila? I hope so, let's see.

Mikaila, I don't like you. You've done shit that's soured my opinion of you. I'm acknowledging that now to get that out of the way. I'm not here to be two-faced about this or blow smoke up your ass.

But as one idiot who stayed in a toxic relationship to another-- I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better. I know. Being in a relationship like that brings out some ugly shit. You resent and fear people will never forgive you. You don't know if you will forgive yourself. I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better than you.

And it feels kinda good, being treated badly? In a weird way? When you're used to it? When you feel you kind of deserve it? It did for me too. My abuser did some fucked up shit to me. I don't know how to describe to you the strange feelings I'm left with now. Sometimes I think I finally hate her, sometimes, as pathetic as it makes me feel, I still miss her. It's a rot in you that never really goes away, but you learn to live with it. I understand that agony. I understand that anger of how fucking unfair it is.

You know my opinion of Lily. You're not going to trust me that I'm not saying all this just to get you two to break up to hurt her. Fair. Very fair, not going to pretend like it's not. But if Lily loves you, nothing I'm about to say should be an issue. She should want what's best for you, right?

Here's the rub Mikaila, it's been a few years now. I know you want out of your situation at home, but it doesn't seem like Lily's going to be able to help you with that at this point. I'm sure Lily's given you plenty of reasons as to why, and it's time to listen to her.

If you're heart's set on coming to Canada, your best bet is getting a job here. Or even, going to school. Art degrees (Here in Canada) aren't as expensive, provided you go to the right school. Even taking out a student loan for just one year to figure your shit out. I know you're in quite a bit of debt right now and don't want to get into more, but. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Here's the college I went to. Yes, your work is sufficient to potentially get admitted. Believe it or not, art school's get that illustration is a learned skill. Artists start from all different levels:

Look through the admissions requirements to see if you have the academic records to be admitted. If not, you could also consider upgrading through online classes aswell.

Again though, your best bet is to try to find employment. The cost of living isn't great here right now, but it isn't great anywhere. I doubt you'll be able to find cheaper rent in America.

Once you're here or wherever you end up, away from the chaos of your home, you might find it a lot easier to get your head around, establishing some better independence and becoming a citizen by yourself. It's a shitty process, but not as bad as the one you guys have in the States. We stan an immigrant here.

You need to look out for you, Mikaila. It's not selfish. It's not a matter of whether you "really deserve it or not." Nobody's going to save you. You're emotionally spent because of your parents, You're emotionally spent because of Lily. And it feels kind of nice how much Lily needs you. But you can't help her until you help yourself - and again, if we're all wrong and Lily really loves you, she shouldn't have a problem with you finding your way.

My own mother once told me I was "born sad." I've never not hated myself. I ate up any little bit of love and validation no matter how many bitter, razor pills that came with it too. That's just how it is for some of us.

But you know what Mikaila? Fuck em. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. Fuck me, Mikaila. You've got one life. One body. One you. Whatever you think of her, someone's gotta fight for that poor bitch. Why not you fight for you?

Everyone's a stinky meat bag stripped down, Mikaila. Everyone's made a fool in the wake of the shit people like you and I have been through. Not everyone's going to be able to forgive everything, but everyone's not wholly past forgiveness.

I'm no better than you Mikaila. Nobody is. Some of us just get to know the worst sides of ourselves better than others.

I don't like some of the things you've done, girl. But I see you. I get it. Tell us all to eat shit. Fix your life. Don't rely on Lily to make you feel whole or to save you. To make you feel worthy. No person can do that. She could be the reincarnation of Mary Mother of God herself, and you couldn't expect that from her. Be your own advocate. If your relationship isn't toxic, it can survive you becoming a more whole you.

This asshole is rooting for you. Give me an excuse to undoomer "Mikailer." My girl needs a win.

[oneshlut]

Can you do The Amazing Digital Circus characters meeting the reader for the first time?

A/N: ofcofc!! thanks for the request, i ADORE writing for tadc! <33 (keeping these platonic since most characters i write for in tadc are platonic)

Another New Home (TADC & Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: General meeting/friendship headcanons for ALL characters of TADC

Caine:

Seeing as he's the ringmaster, Caine introduces himself first!

Tries to be a bit less louder than he was with Pomni. She's actually been talking with him lately, trying to get him to be a bit more friendly! And human!

Can you blame him for being slightly rude? He's not even human, so he can't be blamed for not understanding certain emotions.

But you help him understand! He'll ask you from time to time about what certain human things mean.

When you first spawned into the circus, Caine helped pick out a name for you! By that I mean he chose it for you. You didn't get a say in anything.

Your relationship now? Well, he makes sure you don't get abstracted! That's enough for a good friend, right?

Pomni:

Immediately freaked out hearing a new name in the theme song. DESPERATELY hopes you're not too weird, like Kinger or.. Jax? Well, she hopes you're not rude like Jax

After meeting you, she's pleasantly surprised! You two can kinda relate to your situation. Jax likes to call you two the "newbies".

Pomni tries her best to explain to you what the digital circus even means for you, what abstraction is, and what not. She may not be able to answer all of your questions, though.

Thinks you're one of the "normal" ones to hang out with. Tries sticking with you during Caine's adventures. (She just needs someone else that gets her. Luckily, you fit that role perfectly.)

If she's comfortable enough with you, some days she may visit you in your room! Pomni doesn't do this often, though, so feel lucky.

Overall, the two of you are existential crisis buddies! If you become friends with her, be prepared for lots of deep thoughts and.. well, confusion.

Ragatha:

Ragatha is always eager to meet someone new in the circus! Despite how dire your situation may be, she tries her best to cheer you up.

Every morning she checks the doors before going down to the grounds, and that morning she found your door. Your design intrigued her, she just had to meet you!

She definitely explains abstraction better than Pomni tried to. When you get nervous about.. well, going insane, she heavily reassures you. Although Caine's adventures may seem like hell, they're actually pretty fun! Sometimes.

Ragatha shows you to your room, before she lets you get to know everyone else. She tries to stay optimistic for you, but you can kinda feel her underlying worries about the situation as she explains it.

She's definitely one of the easier people in the circus to get along with. If you get to know her a bit better, she may open up to you! Ragatha will try to tell you everything she knows about her past self, but she's left with very little wisps of what she used to be like.

Ragatha is on the more nicer and motherly side of the group, so when you can you try to spend time with her. If you put in the right effort, Ragatha will become really fond of you!

Jax:

If you've read my other works, you'll know Jax isn't one for new people. And at the same time he is. He's really indecisive.

But meeting you wasn't too bad. You weren't overwhelmingly annoying, but you did have some elements to your character that he could tease or make fun of.

Your first impression of Jax was.. honestly kind of bad. He was a complete dick, what more do you expect? To say the least, his antics did not help your increasing confusion.

If you still hang out with him after your horrible introductions, he would be.. amused. Becoming friends with Jax was just setting yourself for failure. Walking into a bear trap.

He teased you, pranked you relentlessly, and made sure you failed horribly during Caine's adventures. Why? I dunno, it was funny.

Jax will tone down his asshole nature as time goes on, and the closer you are with him.

You'll know he's placed his full trust in you when he asks you to help him out with a prank.

Zooble:

According to Zooble, her name for you was 'weirdo' in her head until she met you. As is for everyone, I suppose.

Your first meeting was.. awkward? You had asked her how her limbs worked, detachable and all. It was intriguing to hear about, though.

One thing you shared in common with her was probably both of your lackluster attempts at Caine's adventures, before just deciding to give up.

When you were too tired to commit to an adventure, you'd hang out with Zooble. She was nice company, and much different from others who were much more chaotic. Spending time with Zooble gave your brain a rest, a chance to slow down. And.. it was nice.

Zooble may seem unwilling to befriend you, but I promise she's trying. Not many people actually try to befriend her, unless it's Jax. If you count Jax's pranks as a way of befriending.

In all honesty, when you first met her, you kinda thought she would be.. crazy. Like Kinger. Maybe it was her design, with all the colors in all its glory, but you found yourself pleasantly surprised!

As long as you aren't a natural annoying person, or push buttons like Jax, Zooble eill probably grow fond of you! She won't admit it, though.

Gangle:

Oohh, Gangle. She's a tough one. Right now she's focused on her comedy mask, and doesn't even notice you when you first spawn in.

When you come to say hi, she's still in sorrows. She wishes you could've seen her happier side when you first arrived..

You try to help Gangle fix her mask, but you.. kinda end up making it worse. You apologize profusely. Don't worry, she forgives you. She may have just cried a bit more.

The more you hang out with her, the more comfortable she will get with you. She's a tough one to break, so it may take a while for Gangle to become fully trusting in you.

Try not to make any sudden movements or bursts of affection, because she will cry. Gangle, being as emotional as she is, will probably break down if you're too nice to her. They're happy tears, I swear. She's just not as used to affection like she was before.

As you grow closer, you begin to notice the little things. Gangle begins to show hints of smiles, and if you're lucky, she'll giggle a bit at a joke.

If you're patient with Gangle, she'll get attached to you. Sorry, no take backsies. She's just happy to finally have someone to feel safe around.

Kinger:

Kinger is.. a wild card. Don't get me wrong, Kinger is one of my favorite characters, but you have to admit he's a bit startling at times. And confusing. So imagine meeting him after being transported to another reality, already confused enough with your current situation, and now having to deal with Kinger's personality.

Him being a bit, you know.. coo-coo, he kinda ignored you at first. Kinger thought he was just hallucinating again, as per usual. Then you spoke, and he immediately jumped.

Speaking to him leaves you a bit frazzled, but you don't mind. He asks a lot of confusing questions about you, like how many half-syllables are in your name. You don't even know your name yet..

But you spend time with him anyways, he can be fun at times! He's decently helpful on adventures, and is a joy to have outside of Caine's antics. (What I'm trying to say here is that you build fortresses together.)

Kinger categorizes all of his friends using chess pieces. He says your a knight. Not even he knows why, he just one day told you that you seemed like a knight.

Grow close enough, and this humanized chess piece will ramble on and on about plants and insects to you. When he's ranting, you can barely make out anything he says, as his words naturally seem to blend together. Honestly? He's probably neurodivergent.

One day he'll tell you about Queenie. But it's gonna take a while. Estimated 5 years. For now, you two are great friends! In a way, Kinger feels like this weird childhood friend you never had. And Kinger.. still sees you as a knight.

[itsjustlux]

Screw It, Tony Baddingham Analysis

Yes, I said I wasn't going to do a Rivals essay. Yes, I totally lied.

** TW for unhealthy power dynamics and discussions of ab*se/violence/violence towards women. Honestly, the man is just a walking warning, read accordingly **

Let's talk Tony. Because I can't help but be constantly intrigued by this simultaneously devastatingly sexy and utterly rizz-less (did I use that right? Kids these days...) sad wet cat creature.

He's relatable. Understandable. Someone who's been constantly put on the outs for being "new money". As someone who's spent her whole life trying to fit into academia and traditionally wealthy spaces and failing spectacularly, I understand that. And I understand the thought process that having enough money, and enough status will finally make it go away. They can't make fun of you if you're the one in control. If you're the one calling the shots.

I see Tony as a character fundamentally motivated by deep, deep insecurity. We don't know much about his childhood (season 2 I beg), but I would put a fair amount of money on him being the sort of traditionally bullied nerdy kid. The kind that starts out well-meaning, but eventually just fucking snaps. Tony is the kind of character determined to either make those around him fall in line or pay the price. When put through this lens, he just sort of looks like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Because, while Tony's motivations come from a reasonable place, the actions he takes are so far out of the left field he blasts himself out of sympathetic morally grey dude territory straight into the land of big bad evil guys like a member of Team Rocket. See, it's Tony's continuous feeding of his bottled-up resentment and shame that fuel his ego and general shittiness. He is capable of being a decent human being. Everyone is capable of that, I think. But he's trapped himself in a cycle of rage and isolation. The more angry he gets, the more people will leave him. The more that happens, the more isolated and ashamed he becomes. The more that happens, the more angry he gets. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It's why we get that sort of switching on and off of different personalities. That sad, wet cat creature I mentioned in the introduction? That's who Tony really is, underneath all his schemes. When you see that, you're seeing a genuine representation of what's going on inside his head. When he's angry and cruel, that's who he really is. Everything else is an act. Charming, confident Tony? A lie. Sweet, sympathetic Tony? A lie. Any time he needs something from someone, he puts on that charismatic personality. If he needs to draw them in, to pull them in closer so he can feel better about himself, he puts on an act. (Bonus points that DT is so good at what he does that it works on the audience, too)

The irony, of course, is that if any of that behavior was genuine, he'd probably have a hell of a lot of an easier time getting what he wants.

Oh and that last scene? Isn't that just the perfect epitome of all of this? Because it's a result of him trying and failing to pull in Cameron one final time, first with that false personality, and then with who he really is. And, of course, who he is is Not Great (TM), and she knows that. So, he's screwed from the outset. And she hits him with the goddamn trophy, the physical representation of what he's achieved. Proof that he can do more, that he is more than some misfit kid. Demonstrating once and for all that no, Tony. You will never be more than what you are. What you have always been. Even while your show plays in the background, even in your giant office, none of it matters. You have lost, and you will always lose. You will lose the girl, you will lose the company, you will lose the legacy. All of it.

So, now it's time for a little customary speculation. In the event he survives (and that's reliant on like...several factors so this all might be moot), I can see a few different directions for his character. Full disclosure, I haven't read the books. So, this is purely going off of the show and what they've put forward. There are a few places we know we're going to end up. Taggie/Rupert is endgame, Tony will 'lose' again in some fashion, and Cameron/Tony is pretty obviously done. The most likely scenario is that Tony will continue to lash out, and may become an even bigger threat now that he's heartbroken. Some grand final attempt to hurt his rivals, and then some final crushing defeat. I could also see them taking the route of a more obsessive Tony. Some Kilgrave vibes towards Cameron could be horrifying, but not unexpected. It would really push the question of how much he actually cares for her versus how much he thinks he cares for her. All of this keeping in mind he's probably going to have further conflicts with his wife, who's the only one who sees the real Tony and isn't scared off by it. Whatever happens, it'll be interesting.

I'll definitely be tuning in. ;)

[foiledbyvoile]

HEAD EMPTY, ONLY SILLY DEMENTED DEER MAN.

The last two episodes really got me over here pondering and shit. Didn't think my 2019 Alastor phase would make a comeback, but here we fuckin' are. Seriously though, what is his deal? I love that you can't quite make sense of him, but also I NEED to make sense of him.

SPOILERS AHOY.

Clearly he's somewhat emotionally invested in all this, that little (cute as fuck) scene with nifty the night before the battle showed us a sentimental softness in him, but he's also definitely cozying up to Charlie to use her powers for something big.

Something like breaking a deal he'd made, and I've got money on Lilith. That bad bitch seaside moment was too iconic, she's pulling strings and catching rays, living her best life.

But I need DETAILS, man. I wanna know what the stipulations of the contract are, I wanna know why it was made, what was gained and what was lost, if this deal gave him the power he wields in the first place. What does Alastor need to do to fulfill his end of the deal? I want the nitty gritty of it, man.

Speaking of deals, Alastor and Charlie??? I know we're probably meant to sweep it under the rug, Alastor says not to worry about it, it's not for Charlie's soul, the whole scene was just brushed aside...but what about the desperation he fucking reeked of?? He was beyond eager to make that deal.

Alastor held onto that information for months, waited for the perfect moment, when Charlie was backed into a corner and desperate, and he used that groundbreaking leverage for a favor. That could be anything! Like breaking a deal only someone with her power could, or, since he clearly likes playing the long game, it could be something far less definitive, easier for Charlie to get behind. Something like helping him make his next move.

(Then the next, and the next, and the manipulation continues--ideally, I'm sure. Narrative folly and character development will almost definitely nip that evil scheme in the bud.)

You gotta love that classic Alastor guile when he tells her it's not for her soul. What it really is is a foot in the door for him, and a show of good faith for Charlie. It's a chess move, and if Alastor is as conniving and methodical as I hope he is, it's the equivalence of moving a pawn.

But then he backs up that dubious display of altruism by introducing Charlie to Rosie and the cannibals. Would Alastor really implicate a close friend and her community for something he wasn't truly invested in? That's a genuine question at this point. It's pretty much confirmed in the song that Alastor is choosing to help Charlie, that he sees the potential in her, but again, for his own benefit.

Which brings us to the radio tower, post fight. The vibes I picked up were immaculate. He's incredulous, desperate, shaken and very clearly trapped in circumstances that drive him absolutely insane.

Alastor's all about control. I think back on his spiel to Charlie about maintaining that control with a smile, but even now, when Alastor is cracking under the realization that he doesn't have that, he continues to smile.

I'm really under the impression that Alastor literally cannot stop smiling. (I'm not counting the single-frame-debacle.) It's either that, or he's forcing himself to smile, desperately vying for some semblance of control in a moment where he well and truly has none.

Then there's the line, "Great Alastor Altruist died for his friends". It feels sardonic. Bitter, like he regrets putting himself in that position, but was it really a choice to begin with? Because he let himself get too involved, too comfortable, and realized that that sentimentality he'd developed has become a weakness?

I think he really was forced to protect Charlie and the hotel (it would explain the seven year coincidence, and Alastor appearing at Charlie's doorstep so serendipitously). This is almost cemented by the following line, "I'm hungry for freedom like never before, the constraints of my deal, surely you have a back door."

He almost died (again), for the sake of Charlie and her hotel. That's a helluva fucking thing for a being who's toppled overlords and held power like he has. No amount of entertainment is worth his own life, there's just no way he willingly pits himself against Adam for anyone's sake.

Assuming that the source of his power is also the source of his subjugation, and considering how Alastor openly strives for control--yeah, he's having a bit of a moment™.  

I do hope that there's some genuine conflict in him in regards to his relationship with Charlie and the gang. That everything he's doing isn't inherently selfish anymore, but he veils that 'weakness' under his perpetual guise of deviant mirth. Bonus points if he's tormented by the good Charlie brings out in him. He deserves the angst, the fuzzy-fucker (/affectionate).

Couple of side notes here:

Thoughts on the way Alastor's mouth is sewn up when he strikes the deal with Charlie? Was he made to smile all the time, is it just a design choice? Personally, I'm hoping there's some angsty lore there, like maybe it's part of his contract as some twisted joke, idk.

I have a love/hate relationship with the Alastor vs Adam smackdown extravaganza. Yes, it was rad as fuck. Yes, of course Alastor was going to lose. But the way it was handled felt like a bit of a disservice, Alastor's reaction felt ooc. But then again that could just be me projecting my perspective of Alastor unto the character.

ALSO, having a character who is well known for not swearing dropping some casual, outta pocket f-bombs was a bit trite. it's supposed to feel like a reward, y'know?

ANWAYS. Yeah. Good shit. I'm losing my goddamn mind.

[bloody-cupcakes]

Yandere/dark! beta! Jenny Humphrey x alpha! reader; she can't help but love you despite her low status

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, a/b/o dynamics (alpha reader/beta Jenny), obsessive behavior, mild stalking, mentions of taking drugs to force having a unnatural heat, this is pretty tame as far as these type of fics go

A/N: two posts in one day is so crazy what a treat for y'all lmao

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

Jenny loved you. She loved you despite being only a beta from Brooklyn who in no way stood a chance with an alpha from the Upper East Side. You were always so nice to her despite being friends with Blair, voluntarily modeling her latest designs and always being there for her if she needed it. How could she not love you?

It was hard to stay away from you, even after she fell out of favor with the UES crowd. She liked to tail you around the city, your strong scent making it quite easy to follow you and her lack of one making it easier to avoid being caught.

Sometimes she'd "accidentally" bump into you, using the excuse of checking out the nearby fabric shops so it wouldn't seem as suspicious that she wasn't in Brooklyn. You always knew she was there on purpose, but played along anyway so she wouldn't feel bad about how easily you'd picked up on the real reason she was in the city.

The truth was, you felt overly protective when it came to Jenny. You were well aware of just how cruel alphas could be, especially on the Upper East Side, and her pretending to be one for the short time that she did certainly didn't help win her any favors.

Even if you weren't fully aware of how deep her obsession with you ran, it was hard not to notice the little crush she had. You thought the way she always sought you out whenever attending events or galas and how she clung to you the whole night so another alpha wouldn't be able to mess with her was cute, and it made you want to protect her even more.

Maybe it wasn't exactly your best move to allow her to live with you, but she insisted on staying in Manhattan and there was no way you could ever risk her getting hurt if she chose to stay by herself. If that happened, you'd never be able to forgive yourself for it. (And Dan wouldn't either as he trusted you to keep her safe.)

The two of you grew closer over the time you spent sharing a penthouse, Jenny becoming more and more obsessed with you in a way that wasn't healthy or natural. After all, it made much more sense for an omega to be clingy with the alpha of their choice and vice versa, but for a beta to become so attached to someone who wasn't another beta was quite unheard of.

She was so desperate to get you to love her back that she started taking some meds she got off Damien that were supposed to help give betas something similar to an omega's heat. Of course it backfired because omegas didn't have strong scent glands nor could they produce slick, so all it did was leave her needy and uncomfortable for the week or so that it lasted.

When you found out about it, you weren't angry like she thought you'd be, just worried. How could you be so blind as to not see what was right in front of you? It should've been obvious that she wanted to take you as a mate.

You gently reassured her that she didn't need to take anything to try to alter the natural way her body worked and that you'd be honored to be her mate... as soon as you had a discussion with her family, that was.

Dan giving her his blessing to be with you was the greatest day of her life. Never had she felt a love like this ever before, not with Nate, not with Damien, not with anyone but you. Even though her scent glands were weak due to being a beta, you still marked her anyway so everyone could know that you were hers and that she was yours.

From then on, she no longer had to worry about facing the shun or scorn from the Upper East Side's elite because she had you there to be by her side every step of the way. And everyone knew better than to mess with an alpha's mate, even if that mate was a beta. It was all she ever wanted in life, and now it was finally hers.

[randoimago]

May I please request Gwen, Peter B, Pavitar, and Hobie reacting to their S/O(and if I may ask, best friend instead of S/O for Peter pls) being turned into their universe's version of the spot pls?

Please go light on the angst if that's how you wanna write it, otherwise I look forward to your ideas especially for a new fandom because your writing is great!

S/O Becoming Their Version of The Spot

Fandom: Spiderverse

Character(s): Gwen, Peter B, Pavitar, and Hobie

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): I'll do my best to go light with angst, but some of these characters (Gwen mostly) will have some angst!

Gwen

Oh boy does she feel a lot of conflicting emotions when she sees you and what you've turned into. First thing, it's the PTSD from her Peter at seeing that you somehow turned into this. And then it's guilt because, was she the cause of your transformation? Did she fail to save you?

The most conflicting feeling she has is what she's going to do. If the Spider Society learns about your abilities, then what if they want you destroyed or something to stop anomalies? No way in hell is she going to let that happen, but she's also afraid of what might happen if there is no other choice with saving you.

So, for now, she tries to help you with your powers. She tries to see what you both can do to try and gain some control with them. She can't and she won't lose you. That's not even an option to her.

Hobie

Well, your powers would make it a lot easier to break into corrupt government buildings to trash the place.

Joking aside, of course he's worried, but he doesn't think any good will come from showing that he's worried. So he's pushing that aside and thinking up ways to help you. He's seen what Miles' spot did, so now it's time to see what you both can do to prevent that.

Honestly, it's a bit annoying how cool and calm he is about the fact that you're opening holes all over the place. But hey, it's part of the learning process. If you break his things, then it just shows how punk you are (might actually be a bit peeved if his guitar got broken tho).

Pavitr

A very chaotic mix of "Don't worry, we'll fix it!" and "Oh my god, are you okay?!" He tries to be upbeat and optimistic about your condition with you, but he can't help worrying because he's seen what could potentially happen.

Tries not to make it obvious that he's constantly eyeing you, but he's constantly eyeing you to make sure you're okay. Don't even give him the "I'm fine" stuff because he's worried like a mother hen. Even if you are legitimately fine, he still thinks you're putting a brave face on for him.

He does get over his worry but that's when you're the one to help calm him down. After that, he takes several deep breaths and you two get to work with figuring out how to help you.

Peter

Yeah, so no offense but you're not allowed to babysit Mayday like that. He understands if you glare at him, it was a bad joke. Hiding behind jokes due to traumatic events is his specialty.

Will sit down with you and ask what happened, how it happened, and how you can fix it. Serious Peter is on because you're his friend and there's no way he's not going to try and help reverse this.

In the meantime, while he puts his super smart science skills to work, you're going to experiment with your powers. Just little things, but he wants to make sure you can control the basics just to be on the safe side.

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .08

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, reader having a crisis, pregnancy, angst, probably slight cringe cause i've been sleep deprived and think everything good idea then, and most likely other shit i can't think of atm

A/N: apparently my body can't decide whether to write Kid or Kidd cause i wrote Kidd half way through this after spelling it 'Kid' in the last two fic's. So please bare with my stupidity

music playlist

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11

~~~

Even though you’ve been counting down the months to finally reach Sabaody, a part of you yearned for just a few more weeks with G-5. Now, with only three more days till you dock at the archipelago, the excitement is palpable. Time seemed to have a mind of its own, neither hastening nor slowing. They say time flies when you're having fun, and indeed it did. Four months dwindled to three, then two, and before you knew it, you were down to mere days.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone, to reveal the person you’ve become during the two-year separation. The anticipation to demonstrate your newfound devil fruit powers and everything Smoker and G-5 have instilled in you. To prove that you've earned the title of a Straw Hat.  That even in the face of pregnancy, you stand strong, capable of protecting yourself and your friends. You’ve toiled day and night to hone your abilities and devil fruit powers, all while nurturing the life growing within you.

Tashigi helped you in buying things that’d make your life a bit easier. Pregnancy pillows, maternity clothes, vitamins to keep yourself healthy, and everything in between. She even convinced you to write a journal for every day of your pregnancy. It did help a lot more than you thought it would. You wrote what you wouldn’t tell anyone else and how you truly felt about your situation that day. Some good and some bad.

A wave of emotions would often overwhelm you when something triggered memories of your time with Kidd. The echo of people calling your name, the rumble of thunder, all reminiscent of your time spent in the shadows. While you knew you’d never be the same person you were before Kidd, you have strived to heal from all the things that have transpired.

It wasn’t working very well, though.

Looking at any reflective surface has your heart shattering when your eyes land on the visible scars on your body. Trying to picture yourself without the scars was impossible as you struggled not to imagine Kidd in the image as well. It was almost easier to pretend you were born with your scars rather than think about the one that gave them to you. Even in everyday life, he'd pop into your head when you weren’t thinking about him. Closing your eyes, you still see his amber eyes staring right back at you.

Being alone with your thoughts always makes things difficult. If it were too quiet, you’d hear his voice whispering in your ear. Feeling his fingers touching your skin when you wore short-sleeved shirts was also common. Times when you were so close to slumber, you’d start to smell his presence. The only thing that seems to calm you down now is a tune your mother used to sing to you.

It had been sealed away in your memories for years, and now you managed to remember the words and tune after having a dream about her singing it to you. You watched her rock yourself as she sang the little song before tucking you in. Her face was a blur, but you could still hear her. At least you could still remember her voice. Yet when she stopped singing, you immediately woke up.

Since then, you’ve been subconsciously humming it when working around the ship. You remember getting embarrassed when Tashigi asked you what you were singing. When you told her that it was something your mother sang to you when you were a baby, she got stars in her eyes.

“You should sing to them! I heard it’s extremely beneficial to the baby!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your more invested in this pregnancy than I am, and I'm the one carrying the baby.”

“I heard it’s great for bonding and-” She stopped herself before she could finish. You knew what she was trying to say and that there was no ill will behind it.

“It’s okay. I know you meant well. Maybe if the situation were different, I’d be more excited. But I don’t want to get too close to them since I’m putting them up for adoption.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that. I guess I just got excited for something other than listening to men yelling and fighting.”

“No, I promise it’s okay! Things happen. You meant well, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the setting sun. The beautiful colors you memorize as you imagine sailing off with the Straw Hats. Happy laughter as you’d hear them tell their stories of their adventures from the two years you’ve been separated. You couldn’t wait to hear Luffy’s infectious laughter or see Robin's calming smile. Only three more days until you make it to Sabaody then-...

…What then?

You’d still be pregnant, on the run, and scared that any second Kidd’s going to show up and whisk you away. Even after you put up the baby for adoption, your body would still look pregnant for a while before going back to normal. Your body would wonder where the baby had gone and when it’d come back. How were you supposed to live life normally after this? Knowing that you have a baby out there that you’ll never get to see grow up. Always worry if they're safe and scared that Kidd might find them and use them as leverage to make you come back.

But at the same time, you couldn’t take them with you. The sea is no place to raise a child, let alone a baby. They could fall overboard, get kidnapped by Marines or rival pirate groups, hell, they could get ill at sea, and you wouldn’t have the medicine to make them better!

Anyway, you looked at it, it felt like nothing was the right choice. The negatives outweighed the positives in your head. It’s possible that everything you’ve experienced has made you an internal pessimist. That, or maybe you were just thinking logically. Either or, it still sucked.

“What are you thinking about?” Tashigi’s voice pulled you from your negative thoughts as she stood beside you.

“Everything and nothing at all. Three days, and then we’ll be enemies. Feels weird knowing that.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird not having you around. I’m gonna be stuck as the only girl once again.” You laugh a bit at her admission.

“If only we’d be able to call one another. But it’s too much of a risk in case any higher-ups were to find out.” Both of you sigh before turning to each other.

“Why do you have to be a pirate?”

“Why do you have to be a Marine?” The two of you laugh as you see the stars start to appear in the night sky.

“The stars are pretty, huh? Maybe we can find constellations if we look hard enough.” You can see Tashigi thinking out of the corner of your eye before her head perks up.

“What if we take pictures? Like a group picture? We’d be able to remember each other even if we can’t talk.”

“You're right! We can do it tomorrow morning! I heard it’s supposed to be sunny and clear!”

“Perfect! We can go around telling the other Marines about it, and they’ll all agree. Vice Admiral Smoker, we might have to convince or drag.”

“I think it’ll be worth the extra chores.”

~~~

As you lay in your bed once more, you look out over the multiple sleeping marines. In a few days' time, you’ll never see them again. If you do, then you’d have to fight them. Once you get back to the Straw Hats, you’ll undoubtedly have a bounty from the government. Then you’ll genuinely be ‘enemies,’ but the thought of hurting any of them made you want to cry. How could you hurt those who took you in, no matter who you were? They risked getting in trouble and put themselves in danger just for you.

Maybe if your forced to fight them, you could just run away? Usopp does it a lot, so why couldn’t you?

You move slightly to get more comfy, only to hear a ‘thud’ come from the side of your bed. Gently moving to the best of your pregnant abilities, you manage to see a particular journal that you haven’t read since the first week you met the G-5.

Heat’s journal.

Biting your lip, you mentally fight to figure out whether you should read it or not. After taking months to try and process Heat’s internal thoughts and the truth about your home, perhaps you were ready to read the rest of it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you manage to grab the book by the tips of your fingers. You bring it up just enough for your other hand to hold it. A slight pain rummages through your body as you try to bring it up. Thankfully, you manage to pull it up just enough to grab it with your other hand. Snuggling into the bed more, you use the moon as a light source to read the book.

Something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly, but whatever it was, put (Y/N) in the hospital on the island we’re currently docked at. No one but Killer and Kidd himself were allowed to see her. Doctors must have been in and out of that room when (Y/N) first entered.

I can’t see (Y/N) trying to kill herself. Not with the small determination I can still see in her eyes. It had to be something involving Kidd. If Kidd can put a hot metal branding on her, then I don’t think he’d be above doing something to land her in the hospital.

I’ve talked to Wire about his thoughts on what could have happened. He told me that while he saw nothing, he heard multiple thuds and yelling coming from beneath the deck. Immediately upon hearing that, a sour taste filled my mouth. I have to go down and see for myself the room Kidd has been keeping (Y/N) in. There has to be something down there that could tell me something.

Of course, Kidd didn’t want his crew to know he almost killed you. Typical. What did Heat say when he saw you come back from the hospital? When what was the starting time when you forgot your memories. Gently skimming through the pages, you found the entry you were looking for.

I don’t think my eyes have ever widened as much as they did when I saw Kidd and (Y/N) holding hands. There was a bright smile on (Y/N)’s face when she finally came aboard the deck. Her legs are wobbly, and it looks like she’s learning how to walk again. She had bandages covering her head. Behind her and Kid was a doctor along with Killer.

Obviously, somethings not right. (Y/N) or Kidd must have hit her head so hard that a real doctor is needed. While I know it’s a very cliche scenario, I think that she must have hit her head so hard that her memory fogged. And if that’s so, what lies had Kidd told her already? Maybe if I'm able to get the doctor alone, I can get some information.

So Heat saw you the day you returned to the Victoria Punk after the incident? You were shocked that Kidd didn’t bring you back to the ship during the night. But thankfully, he was too stupid, and it allowed Heat to see the first part of the aftermath in real-time.

You don’t remember the first week or two when you got back to the Victoria. Not the doctors or leaving the hospital. It was probably for the best, though. You don’t need any more trauma than you already have.

“What were his thoughts during those five months?” Looking back at the marines to ensure they were sleeping, you flip through the pages again.

Caught (Y/N) staring out to sea earlier before the night entirely took over. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, honestly. I felt like I was going insane trying to figure out how or if I should help her now. She looks so happy now, but at the same time, her happiness is based on lies and blood.

Why did this have to happen? What sins did (Y/N) do in a past life that made this her reality? One minute, she was living her life, then the next, she’s stuck in a storage room on a pirate ship. I try not to think how alone she must have felt before this incident. Always being stuck in the dark and only seeing the same people over and over again. Me talking to her can only do so much. It won’t bring back her parents or friends. Nor will it bring back her home.

It still eats me knowing that I’m the reason this woman has no one left. No friends or family. Well, there’s those Straw Hats she’s told me about.

I remember them from Sabaody. Their captain was a strange one, but it did seem like he cared for his crew. If he’s willing to risk his life by storming Impel Down and Navy headquarters just to save his brother, then I think if there is any place or pirate crew for her to be in, it’d be the Straw Hats.

Maybe if I mention Saboady, it’ll spark something and clear the fog that’s invaded her mind.

"If only you knew Heat. It was the thing that made me realize somethings not right.” For a Kidd Pirate, he truly was a fallen angel in disguise. While you’ll never forgive him for what he did to your home, he proved that almost everyone deserves a second chance.

Holy shit. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t run as quickly and quietly as I could in forever. Not to mention the underlying threat of getting caught giving (Y/N) a devil fruit.

Finding the damn thing was entirely on accident but a pain in the ass to bring on the ship without anyone noticing. Even stealing the fruit was a feat in itself. I don’t know how that fisherman found it or what he was planning on doing with it, but in the end, it’s going to a better cause. 

I managed to have (Y/N) eat it by luring her outside the dining hall earlier. When I watched her eat it all, it made a slight ease wash over me. At least now, she’d have a bit more of a fighting chance against Kidd if he did anything.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell her everything right then and there, but I was already pushing it by being so close to everyone, especially with Killer being somewhere on deck. I didn’t want to cause a scene and have Kidd freak out or anything. The longer he’s in the dark, the safer it is for (Y/N) and myself.

Honestly, I thought Killer would have knocked some sense into Kidd when he found out about (Y/N). I was obviously very wrong. 

“If anything, he was just as insane as Kidd. Fueling his crazed thoughts and obsession. I still remember that dumb conversation I heard between him and Kidd about boarding up the storage room.” It pissed you off more that if it weren’t for Killer’s mask, you probably would have put two and two together quicker. Facial expressions are everything. 

I caught (Y/N) staring at the sky again. Thankfully, Killer and Wire were on the opposite side of the ship, so I was finally able to talk to (Y/N) alone. She didn’t know what I made her eat initially, which shocked me. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to trigger it yet.

We both found out pretty quickly what her devil fruit power was, though.

I was trying to tell her that everything she knew about Kidd was a lie. That her life was a lie. I wanted to be more collected and calm about it, but how do you carefully say something like that?  It was hard seeing her eyes flash all her emotions, but it soon turned to pain when a harsh shock hit my hands. It felt like a burning hot pole went straight through my hands. 

It hurt like a bitch, but the pain subsided when I saw her looking at her hands. When I also looked at them, I saw electricity slither across her hands. I watched her put her hands together and was speechless when a ball of pure electricity formed. She started panicking when the ball was getting too big for her to control and starting to hurt her. I told her to throw it out to sea, and when she did, I felt like I was watching the moon shrink. It was so bright and slightly calming. The farther it went, the more at ease I felt. (Y/N) had a chance. She had a chance to defend herself and run away.

And I’ll be there to make sure she’s safe.

Tears fall profusely down your face, reading the last line. How can the world be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help, and yet he lost his life.

You go to read the next page only to see it’s blank. Feeling your throat dry, you start skimming through the rest of the pages, hoping to see more writing, yet there is nothing. It felt like your heart had been ripped directly from your chest. That was the last thing Heat has ever written, and it just had to be the most heartbreaking thing to read.

Curling up as best you can, considering your belly, you hold Heat’s journal close to your chest. You try your best not to sob as you don’t want to wake up the rest of the Marines sleeping next to you. Between sniffles and the slight shaking as you try to control your breathing, you whisper to yourself in hopes that wherever Heat is, he’ll hear you.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Another island was reduced to ashes after falling victim to Eustass Kidd’s wraith. A once lush and thriving island is now in flames and crumbling as the ruthless pirate searched tirelessly for a certain someone last seen there.

“God fucking damnit! When I get my hands on whatever Marines are holding her, I’m going to kill every single one of them! They’ll wish they never got involved when I break each of their bones!” Kidd’s voice boomed across the town as his amber eyes scanned everywhere.

Where are you?! Why aren’t you here?!

“Kid.” Killer’s voice breaks through the brute's rage, making him turn his head.

“What Killer?!”

“We’ve searched everywhere, and there's no sign of her. It’s not like we can ask anyone either since everyone has evacuated before we arrived.”

Ever since the incident on Halyard Island, as soon as your location was revealed in the paper, people would evacuate their homes to try to save their families and avoid the unstable tornado of destruction that was Eustass Kidd. 

Some people stayed because it’d been their home since birth, and they’d rather die than leave it defenseless. There have been rebellions to try to stop Kidd, but they were always snuffed out the moment Kidd saw them. The same could be said for any Marines that were sent to stop him. Getting sent on a mission to any island that you had been spotted at was a death wish. Sometimes, the Marines were too late, and Kidd had already destroyed the island. But when Kidd would see them, he wouldn’t let any Marines leave until he talked to each and every single one of them. And since none of them had you, none of them would leave the island alive.

Your name had become a jinx to any Marine that spoke it. Speaking your name would always have the Marine that spoke it sent out on the next mission to stop Kid from destroying yet another island just to find you. And since none of them had you, they’d never come back alive to say what they’ve experienced.

After being the ‘cause’ of death for so many Marines, some rookies have given you the nickname ‘Devil’s Darling.’ It was a joke at first, but as the death toll rose and how Kidd’s name got more infamous, more and more people adopted it. And with a nickname like that, more people have come to hate you.

While you haven’t done anything, the fact is that if it weren’t for you escaping, no one would have gotten hurt. If only you had bit the bullet, no one would have lost their lives. Many victims of Kidd’s rage blame you for it. Anger and fear take over the hearts of many, and to the civilians of the New World, you’ve become as feared and hated as the man hunting you down.

The government had become more conflicted on where to stand with you. While you were technically innocent, the people have been nagging them to put an official bounty on your head. If they did, you’d only be wanted alive. The power they could hold if they managed to capture you. You could be the key to finally catching and imprisoning Eustass Kidd.

And Kidd knew all of this.

He knew the hatred the people had started to hold for you. How they’d give you to him if they managed to recognize and grab you before you left the island. In a way, he had the whole New World in his hand. Their hatred and fear was and will be the town’s own undoing.

The only people stopping him were fucking journalists who don’t say or do a thing when they see you. They are so desperate for a story and to lead him on that they don’t care about how they’ve helped in the destruction.

“Of course, she isn’t here. Fucking hate those journalists and Marines.” Kidd kicked a smoldering piece of wood in anger. Ashes fly to the sky as it did nothing to soothe his rage.

They don’t understand that he needs you. He dreams of you every night. Dreams of you laying next to him and kissing his face. Some where you were holding his child, soothing them to sleep. Humming a small tune before noticing him and smiling. You’d say something to him, but he could never remember what it was when he woke up.

And while there were dreams, nightmares followed suit. Nightmares of you falling into the ocean and sinking to the bottom with your hand outstretched for Kidd to grab and save you. Or the times when you’d be running from Marines to him only for you to get shot as soon as he had you in your arms. The nightmares plagued him much more than he dreamt of you. He’s always had nightmares when you weren’t lying next to him. Ever since the first night you’ve slept with him in his bed, he’s never been able to sleep alone without waking up sometimes during the night. The warmth your body gave him while you slept, go thim addicted.

Those first few months you left and joined those damn Straw Hats, the same nightmare happened every night. It replayed the scene of you sailing away from him over and over again. No matter what, those months without you behind closed doors were pure hell for Kidd. You were just gone from his life after being by his side for a year and a half. He’d never get to kiss you or hold you close again.

But just as Killer tried to get Kidd over you, he saw you.

He was fighting a pacifista next to that dweeb Trafalgar Law when he turned his head, and there you were. You were running as fast as you could, and there he saw you. What you were running from, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that you were alone. No Straw Hats or Marines to take you away now. You were his for the taking once more, and this time, he’d make sure you knew it-

“Earth to Kidd!” Blinking a few times, Kidd’s pulled from his memories by Killer snapping his fingers in his face.

“I was thinking! What is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern? How each island she’s at, she gets closer and closer to the Navy Headquarters?” A pit filled Kidd’s stomach hearing Killer’s words.

“What are you saying, Killer? Spill it!”

“What if their taking her to the safety of Navy Headquarters? Or worse, Impel Down?” Kidd grits his teeth at the thought. No way in hell was he gonna let those fuckers take you.

“Any Marine ship we see, attack. Don’t care if they're not in our course. No Marine ship will get past the Victoria. Search every part of the Marine ship, and if she isn’t there, sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.”

“And the Marines on it?”

“Kill them all.”

~~~

“You wanted to see me, Vice Admiral? If it’s about the pictures we did yesterday, I have some here if you want to choose one.-”

“Sit. We need to talk.” Your heart stopped for a second, but you managed to snap back and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The way he sat in his chair behind the desk made you bite the inside of your cheek. When Tashigi told you that he wanted to see you, you were nervous. She said that while she didn’t know why he wanted to, you had no need to be scared.

Obviously, she was wrong.

“O-Oh? What about?” You can feel your palms sweat as the room seems to heat up.

“The government has finally put up a bounty for you.” Hearing those words come from Smoker's mouth made time stop as thousands of scenarios played through your head. Would he turn you in?

“But I haven’t done anything! Why do I have a bounty?!”

“You haven’t done anything. But Kidd has.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He’s been destroying islands, villages, and Marine ships nonstop. Anything in his path has become a victim of his rage. According to headquarters, we’ve lost a lot of good men to him. Rookies, Vice Admirals, and Admirals even have been killed. His bounty has tripled in the last six months. Wouldn’t shock me if it raises the next time the new bounty posters come up.” You were speechless. How many people have been hurt or killed because of you? So many deaths for simply living. This has to be a nightmare.

“I don’t understand. Why do I have a bounty for things he’s done? I’m not out here hurting people!” Smoker sighed before running a hand through his hair.

“They want to use you to lure Kidd so they can capture him. That and many people of the New World are treating you as much of a threat as kid himself is.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone! I hate Kidd as much as they do, so why do they hate me?...”

“Fear. Kidd’s insanity has caused fear to cover the entire New World. Seeing your name and last known location in the paper is a death wish for the island you were last seen at. I don’t know how these damn journalists keep spotting you no matter what disguise we put you in.”

“It’s like they’re actively looking for me. Why are they so determined to find me? People have been hurt, yet they don’t care!” Guilt starts to eat at you as the thought of countless people getting hurt because of your problems eats at your heart.

“First Heat…now this? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?” You whisper to yourself as you lay your hands on your thighs before gripping your pants tightly. Tears start to whelm in your eyes as you bite your lip. The images of people's faces you’ve never seen before start to pop up in your mind as if to make you suffer more. The survivor's guilt already consumed you after Heat’s death, but now, with having so much more ‘blood’ on your hands, the pain was unbearable.

“Heat? Where have I heard that name before?”

“He was a crewmate on Kidd’s ship. He’s…no longer with us.”

“A Marine kill him? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Kidd Pirates getting sent to Impel Down.”

“No. Kidd did.” Even though you spoke between sobs, SMoker still managed to catch your words. He was stunned to hear such a thing. Killing his own crew? If he can do that without remorse, what else is he willing to do?

“He helped me escape the first time I was stuck with Kidd. He undid the chain that was connected to a collar Kidd had me wear and told me to run. When he saw that I had gotten captured again, he tried to help me again, but…”

“But?”

You ran as fast as you could around teh deck to try and find Heat and Kidd. In the dark, the whole boat felt like a maze. Each passing second was an eternity. How can you find them in time?

“Your fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t notice how you're trying to play hero! At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you let her go the first time. But now, when everything’s good, you're trying to ruin it!” Kidd’s voice rang in your left ear, making you stop in your tracks.

“What are you talking about Kidd? Are you drunk or something?”

“Don’t play dumb! You know damn well what I’m talking about! Your telling (Y/N) shit she doesn’t need to remember! Telling her things that’ll ruin what I’ve worked so hard for! She’s happy, and you want her to be sad?!”

“That’s not happiness, Kidd! Her ‘happiness’ is based on lies! I know I’m not the greatest person. I have skeletons in my closet, but what you're doing is insane!” Hearing Heat bite back makes you dash towards the two voices.

Just then, a few loud thumps accompanied by a cough echoed across the deck. A bang was soon heard right after, and it only made you run faster. When you finally made it to the source, your horrified to see Kidd with his back facing you and a bloody, jagged knife in his hand. In front of him, you see Heat on the deck with his back leaning against the railing. Red starts to seep through his clothes, as you can hear his breathing become erratic. You watched him cough harshly and see droplets of blood shooting out from his mouth.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, Heat. I won’t let you ruin this for me. If only you had minded your business, then none of this would have to happen.” Heat gives Kidd a strong glare before laughing at him. His teeth covered in blood as he smiled at Kidd.

“She’ll find out. It may not be by me, but your house of cards is crumbling, Kidd. She’s gonna find out whether you like it or not.” You can hear Kidd crack his neck at Heat’s words.

“Not to mention, she and the rest of the crew are gonna wonder what’s happened to me. How are you gonna explain that?”

“I can just say you fell overboard. Since your a devil fruit user, you’ll sink to the bottom. The crew will believe it, and so will (Y/N).”

“Doubt it. She’s not stupid, Kidd. She’s gonna remember everything that’s happened. Her home, friends, family, and everything you’ve done to her, she’s gonna remember. And when she does, I’ll be laughing in hell.” You watch Kidd charge at Heat with the knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“No!” Running from your hiding spot, you jump in front of Heat. Despite the fear that coursed through you, you spread your arms out to a T so you can protect him from your knife-wielding lover. Your arrival brought silence among the three of you.

“(Y/N)...” Glancing back to Heat, you see the shock in his eyes. Your heart bleeds as Heats breath becomes more ragged with each second that passes. 

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?! You need to get away from him! He’s working for the Marines! He’s a traitor!” Biting your lip between your teeth, you try not to cry as your lover lies directly in your face so casually. 

A strong, familiar tingling feeling circulated through your arms and legs as you stood in front of Heat. Buzzing rings in your ears as the feeling grows stronger as you anticipate Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you! He’s going to hurt you, it’s not safe next to him.” Looking into Kidd’s eyes, you stand yoru ground and still stand in his path. You can feel your heart race as he reaches out to you. The feeling of his fingertips from his real arm just barely touching your wrist before a loud ZAP could be heard echoing across the Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Kid recoils his hand back and tries brushing it against his red feathered coat. The buzzing of the zap still ringing in your ears as you quickly turn your attention to Heat. You're quick to start inspecting him for more wounds but can only see one. A stab wound dangerously close to the heart but at a perfect position for it to be in the lungs. While Kidd missed the heart, he managed to puncture a lung which could be just as fatal. It also explains the coughing up of blood.

“Heat! Hang on! Everything will be okay! Just give me a second!-”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers?...” You stutter as you try to figure out a lie to say. Yet, you watch Heat give Kidd a bloody smirk. From that, it didn’t take long for Kidd to put two and two together.

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!” Your heart almost stops completely as you see Kidd stomping towards the two of you. The way his face looked so sinister made it feel like you were living another nightmare.

Quick to jump to your feet again, you place yourself between Heat and Kidd. The buzzing continued, and you watched as electricity slithers around your arms and legs, helping you give off a threatening aura.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Kidd!” Despite the electricity covering you, Kidd still reaches out. Just as you watch him reach for your arm, he changes direction and grabs your hair. With a harsh tug, Kidd throws you behind him. Your body hits against the hard wooden deck with a ‘thunk.’

You can feel the air being knocked out of your lungs as tears prickle your eyes. As you struggle to get over the pounding in your head and the ache in your body, you hear Heat cough harshly again. When you open your eyes to look at the two men, your eyes widen in horror as you watch Kidd hold Heat up by the throat. Lifting him to his feet, you see Heat struggle to get Kidd’s metal hand off his throat. 

“Enjoy the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings that’ll feast on your corpse, will ya?” Jumping to your feet despite still being dizzy, you dash towards Kidd and Heat. But just as you took three steps in, you watched as Kidd threw Heat against the railing, making him tumble over it and fall off the boat. 

Running to the railing and praying that he’s simply hanging on, your hopes were crushed as soon as you heard the heartbreaking sound of water splashing. Leaning over the edge to see if you could throw him a rope, you only had time to see bubbles rising to the water's surface before Kidd grabbed you by the hair and began to drag you away.

“Kidd found out about it. My devil fruit powers wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t for Heat. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long I would have been stuck with Kidd and his web of lies.”

“How long has it been since his death?” While he could see that this was obviously a sensitive topic for you, perhaps if you spoke about it, it might loosen whatever burden his death has caused.

“A week had passed after his death when you guys found me. So, as long as I’ve been here plus a week.” Letting out a hum, Smoker continued to listen.

“It’s all my fault…If only I had been more careful then maybe he’d still be here. He’d still be alive instead of at the bottom of the sea.”

“I watched Kidd kill him. I saw Kidd kill the only friend I had and there was nothing I could do about it!”

‘That explains a lot. There’s a lot more layers of trauma she hasn’t told me or Tashigi about. If there's something that traumatic she’s keeping to herself, what else could be going on inside that she’s not talking about?’

“There are times when I feel like he’s haunting me. I see him sometimes in my nightmares. Or times when I’m leaning against the railing and go to look down at the sea only to see Heat standing beside me. But when I go to check if he’s really there, it’s always an empty space. I’ve caught glimpses of him staring at me through the crowd. People walk back and forth and I see him staring at me. But then somebody walks in front of him, and then he’s gone!” Smoker watches as your body shakes and tears begin pouring down your face. You grip your uniform pants even harder as you try to stabilize yourself as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Every time I see him, I don’t see the Heat I know. I see him as a corpse. No matter what he’s always just staring at me with lifeless eyes. It always looks like he’s…”

“At the bottom of the sea?”

“Yeah. Down there.” A minute os silence passes before SMoker speaks.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for his death. From how much you’ve told me, it sounds like he knew the risks that came with trying to set you free. That he’d be putting his own life in danger to help yours. Do you think he’d want you to feel guilty for a sacrifice he was willing to make?”

“No.”

“Then don’t blame yourself for something that someone did of their own free will.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” While Smoker knew a single sentence wouldn’t fix all the trauma Heat’s death had obviously caused, he supposed it was better to get it off your chest. With Heat’s death, along with the people Kidd’s hurt in your name lingering in your mind, he can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you.

~~~

Today’s the day. According to Tashigi, you guys should be at Sabaody before 3 pm. After months of training and pregnancy, along with your time with Kidd, you’ll finally be able to return to the Straw Hats.

It feels unreal. Almost as if it’s a dream. Yet, the dangers of Sabaody didn’t slip your mind. Bounty hunters, potential civilians willing to hunt you down, and the navy waiting to use you as bait. All odds were against you.

You did know the sunny was docked at tree 41, so maybe you could have G-5 bring you close but not too close to the sunny? The closer you are to it, the safer it’ll be for you. Well, you and the baby.

Not a second goes by where it’s not on your mind. Any time you move, you have to be cautious you don’t hit your tummy on anything. Eating foods became a test as foods you used to love, you now despise. Now, you're studying foods that are healthy for the baby and what’s not. Anything an over-paranoid pregnant woman does, you did. Even though you're gonna give up the baby for adoption when the time comes, you are gonna make sure the baby is healthy. 

There was a nagging feeling that ate at you whenever you were alone. Sometimes, you could feel the baby kick whenever you tapped your belly purposefully or on accident. It was as if they were responding to you. If they could feel the vibrations from a simple tap, could they also hear you talk about not wanting them? Even if six months old, what if? You knew it was impossible for them to understand you, but the nagging feeling never went away. 

Maybe when you reunite with the Straw Hats, that nagging feeling will fade away.

~~~

Another art thing. not really proud of it but it is what it is