#the only things that go both ways are his shadow weapons

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear! I need to get another idea out of my head. And I know, that it'll be here in good hands ^-^

Wdisappearance (and also Mylo's and Claggor's) death and Vi's disappearance, Powder was her last everything.

So, even though Silco was one of the main reasons all of this happened, she decided to work for him, to be as close to Powder as possible. Even though she knew, that working for him would change her (negatively) as a person.

Years passed and all of the sudden Vi stood in front of Reader, asking for her sister. Both of them started a big, emotional argument. Trying to understand each others side. What happened, what changed - How they changed as a person.

So it's like Sister Reader x Jinx but also kinda Vi x Sister Reader?

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ

ᴊɪɴx x ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ) || ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 4193 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ!! ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! < 3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴠɪ

Y/N stood in the shadows of the undercity, the faint glow of neon lights from the depths of Zaun painting the air around her in harsh hues of blue and red. She had been here for weeks now, lost in the haze of her own grief and guilt. The streets of Zaun had changed since the explosion at the factory, since that fateful night when Powder, the girl she had once shared a bond with, became something else. A bomb, a betrayal, and a fire that consumed everything—Vi, Mylo, Vander, and Claggor were gone, leaving only ashes and broken pieces of what used to be.

Powder was the last thing Y/N had left. Her name was etched into her heart like a scar, a reminder of the innocent girl she had tried to protect, the girl she had failed. But now, Powder was no longer the same. The girl who had once looked at Y/N with wide, hopeful eyes had turned into something dangerous, someone willing to destroy anything in her path for the sake of vengeance.

And Silco… Silco had been the one to take advantage of that. The undercity was his to control, and he knew exactly how to manipulate Powder’s anger and grief. He was the one who kept her close, fed her rage, and used her as a weapon. Y/N knew Silco was one of the architects of their destruction, but there was no going back now. In a way, she had chosen this path. She had chosen to be here, in the heart of the chaos, where the promise of reconnecting with Powder lingered like a fragile thread.

"You're late," a cold voice broke her reverie.

Y/N turned to face him. Silco, sitting in his high-backed chair, eyes glinting with calculated malice, didn’t seem surprised. He never did. He watched her, his posture relaxed but the air around him charged with an authority that commanded respect. He had been patient with her, understanding of her pain, and she hated herself for the way she responded to that understanding.

"I’m not here to talk," Y/N replied, her voice steady but hollow. She had long since stopped fighting the darkness that Silco offered. "I’m here because I need to see her."

His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "You’ll see her when I allow it. You know how this works, little one. Loyalty has a price."

Y/N didn’t flinch. "I know."

But it was a lie. She didn’t know what she was getting into. She was too lost in her need to find Powder, to make things right, even if it meant becoming something she never wanted to be. Silco knew it, too. He had seen the cracks in her, the way the girl who had once been full of hope and ideals now teetered on the edge of despair.

"I want to help you, Y/N," Silco continued, leaning forward. "But you need to understand that to be close to her, you have to do more than just exist in the shadows. You need to prove your loyalty."

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if she had already made the decision, even before hearing the answer.

Silco’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping on the armrest. "There’s someone in Piltover who’s been a thorn in my side. A scientist. You’ll take care of them."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time Silco had made such a request. She had already done his bidding—small things, easy things, things that didn’t matter much. But now, it was different. Piltover wasn’t just some distant city. It was a place she had once dreamed of. The city where everything had seemed so full of promise before everything fell apart. Before Powder’s descent into chaos, before the factory explosion that took everything from her—her family, her sense of self, her place in the world.

But all of that was gone. She couldn’t afford to think about the past now, about the people she used to care about. She needed to focus on finding Powder. She needed to prove to herself, to Silco, that she was worthy of being in the same room as her again.

"Consider it done," Y/N said, her voice hollow, void of any real emotion. She had made her choice. She would do whatever it took.

Silco smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. "Good. You’ll find your way back to her, Y/N. But remember, nothing comes without a cost."

The mission was simple, but the weight of it crushed her. As she made her way into Piltover, Y/N couldn't help but remember the dreams she once had of the city—the idealistic visions of what it could be, what it should have been. The buildings, so grand and beautiful, now seemed like a mocking reminder of everything she had lost. The city had always been a distant world to her, a place that existed beyond her reach, beyond the walls of Zaun.

Now, it was a battleground. Her battleground. The faces of Piltover’s elite—people she had once admired, people she had once believed were different from the corruption she had seen in Zaun—walked the halls without a clue of what she had become. No one knew the things she had done to survive, to stay close to Powder. No one knew what she had sacrificed, the person she had become.

Y/N found her target, but when she saw the figure before her, something stirred inside her. She hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in her hand. The mission was so clear, so simple—one more kill, one more task for Silco. But in that moment, her grip faltered. She remembered who she had been, long ago, before everything had gone wrong. She remembered a time when she hadn’t been consumed by darkness, when she had hoped to change things, to find a balance between Piltover and Zaun.

That person was gone. She had died the moment Powder’s bomb had detonated, when everything had shattered into pieces.

With a swift motion, she silenced her conscience and completed the mission. Her hands were stained with blood, but it didn't matter. The weight of her actions no longer weighed on her. She had buried those feelings long ago.

As she stepped back into the shadows of Zaun, the finality of her choice settled in. She wasn’t Y/N anymore. She was something else. She was a shadow, a weapon, a tool. And in that darkness, she would remain until she found her way back to Powder.

Because Powder—her last hope—was waiting for her.

Y/N’s steps were heavy as she walked through the labyrinth of alleys and shadows, the weight of her mission pressing down on her. The blood on her hands felt as if it had seeped into her very soul, leaving an indelible mark that she could never scrub away. The streets of Zaun passed by in a blur, the neon lights flickering like distant stars in a dying sky, the air thick with the smell of oil, sweat, and decay.

By the time she reached Silco’s office, her hands were still trembling, but her mind was set. The moment she stepped through the door of The Last Drop, the world outside fell away. Everything was muted, dim, as if the bar itself was a place of refuge for the broken, the lost, and the damned.

Silco was sitting at his desk, the same cold, calculating figure she had come to know. His expression flickered with mild amusement when he saw the blood on her clothes, but his eyes gleamed with approval.

“You’re back,” he said, his voice smooth and controlled. He didn’t need to ask about the mission. He knew.

Y/N didn’t speak. Her eyes were fixed on him for a long moment before she turned, as if the weight of his gaze was too much. Silco gestured to a door behind him, his posture relaxed but commanding.

“Go ahead,” he said, his tone almost mocking in its calmness. “She’s waiting for you.”

=

Her heart hammered in her chest as she crossed the threshold. The door creaked as it swung open, and there, in the middle of a dimly lit room, stood her.

Powder—or rather, Jinx—the girl she had once known. The girl who had been full of hope, and now, seemed so far removed from the innocence she had once clung to. Her hair was wild and streaked with colors, her eyes a burning mix of madness and grief, the spark of chaos that now defined her.

Jinx’s gaze locked onto Y/N’s, and for a heartbeat, the world outside disappeared. She stared at Y/N as if trying to place her, as if the face in front of her felt like a memory she couldn’t quite grasp.

Then, in an instant, Jinx cried out, her voice wild and broken. Before Y/N could even react, she was pulled into a tight embrace, the younger girl’s arms wrapping around her like a lifeline. The force of it nearly knocked the breath from Y/N’s lungs, but she instinctively wrapped her arms around Jinx, holding her just as tightly.

Everything else fell away. The blood, the guilt, the distance between them—none of it mattered anymore. In this moment, the world was just the two of them, two broken souls that had lost everything, but somehow still had each other.

Jinx’s sobs were muffled against Y/N’s chest, her small body trembling violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Y/N could feel the tremors coursing through her, the weight of the chaos Jinx had carried alone. The explosion, the betrayal, the destruction—it was all still fresh in her mind.

"I thought I lost you," Jinx whispered, her voice a desperate mix of relief and confusion, her hands clutching Y/N’s shirt like she was afraid to let go.

Y/N’s throat tightened as she held her tighter. She didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could make this better. But she didn’t need to say anything.

“I’m here,” Y/N finally whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ll always be here, Powder. I’m not leaving you.”

Jinx pulled back just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, searching for something, some sign that this wasn’t just another cruel trick of fate. She found it—found the truth in Y/N’s gaze. Slowly, her lips curled into a small, shaky smile.

"Together?" Jinx asked, her voice almost playful, as if testing the weight of the word.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She smiled back, her heart aching but full in the same breath.

"Together," she whispered.

And in that moment, time seemed to stop. The blood on her hands, the terrible price she had paid, the path that led them here—it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because they were together again. The last two pieces of a broken family.

Years passed, each one blurring into the next, as the weight of Silco’s demands continued to shape and redefine Y/N. The girl who had once dreamed of balance and hope, the girl who had once fought for a better future, was no more. In her place stood a shadow, a weapon forged from the fires of betrayal and chaos, with every mission, every task, stripping away the remnants of her humanity.

Under Silco’s watchful eye, Y/N became an extension of his will—a blade sharpened to cut through anyone who stood in his way. She no longer hesitated when the order was given. The blood on her hands had long since dried, and the voices of the past—Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Vi —faded into distant memories, replaced by the cold, ever-present weight of the choices she had made. Every night, she drifted into a restless sleep, her thoughts haunted by the ghosts of those she had loved and lost, yet the nightmares no longer carried the same weight. She had become numb to it all.

She was good at what she did. Silco had made sure of it.

Her name, once a source of meaning, was little more than a faint echo now. She had become a tool, a force of nature working in silence, her hands doing his bidding without question. Whether it was eliminating rivals, infiltrating Piltover’s defences, or securing the loyalty of Zaun’s most dangerous criminals, Y/N was always there, always moving in the shadows, her presence felt but rarely seen. She was a ghost in Silco’s world, and that was exactly how he wanted her.

=

It had been three years since that fateful day when she had reunited with Jinx, and in all that time, Y/N had watched the girl she had once known slowly slip further away from the person she had been. Jinx had changed, and Y/N knew it was because of Silco. He had moulded her into something new, something untouchable, just as he had done with Y/N.

Powder was still there—still the spark of chaos, still the wild and unpredictable force of nature—but now, there was something else in her eyes. A coldness, a hardness, as if she too had lost everything in the pursuit of a dream that could never be realized. Y/N had come to accept that the girl she had once fought to protect no longer needed protection. Jinx was her own force now, carving her path with reckless abandon, and while that terrified Y/N in some quiet corner of her mind, she didn’t have the energy to fight against it anymore.

Tonight was no different. Silco’s voice echoed in her mind as she stood outside a run-down warehouse, the chill of Zaun’s night air cutting through her like a blade. She was to make an example of someone—someone who had dared to cross him. Y/N hadn’t asked for the details. She didn’t need to anymore. She was simply the weapon, not the strategist.

The door creaked open, the faint sound swallowed by the hum of Zaun’s industrial heartbeat. Inside, the dim glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows across the floor. Y/N moved silently, her boots barely making a sound as she approached the target—a man whose life was now worth less than the contract Silco had signed for him. He was cowering in the corner, a pitiful mess of desperation. His fear was palpable, but to Y/N, it was just another job.

She didn’t hesitate.

The man was silent before she moved, his terror evident as she closed the distance between them. The faint tremor in his breath was the only sound she heard as she pulled the weapon from her belt. It was quick, and it was clean. No emotion, no thought. Just action. Just Silco’s will made flesh.

As she stepped away, the blood splattered across the floor, a dull reminder of what she had become. Another body. Another life taken for Silco’s empire.

=

Y/N returned to the Last Drop in silence, her hands still slick with blood, her heart still cold. She entered Silco’s office without a word, her face an unreadable mask, her eyes distant and void of any emotion. Silco didn’t look up from his desk, but he knew she had completed her task.

“Good,” he said, the word almost dismissive. “You’re becoming more efficient. I’m pleased.”

Y/N nodded but said nothing. She had long stopped feeling anything about Silco’s praise or scorn. It was all the same to her now. A small part of her—the part that still remembered who she used to be—hoped that one day it would be different. But that part was a whisper now, drowned out by the ever-present noise of her duty.

A sound at the door caught her attention. Jinx stepped into the room, her eyes wild and alive, her smile erratic but real. She was a storm contained in a fragile vessel, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the familiar pang of longing for the girl she had once known.

“Y/N!” Jinx shouted, her voice high and full of excitement. “Guess what I did! Guess! I blew up a whole damn warehouse, just for fun!” She laughed manically, the sound unsettling in the silence of the room.

Y/N’s gaze softened for a moment, just for a moment. “I’m glad you had fun,” she said quietly, but the words were hollow. She wasn’t sure if she was lying to Jinx or to herself.

Jinx, oblivious to the distance that had grown between them, rushed over to Y/N, her arms flailing as she tried to grab her attention. “You should’ve seen it! The look on their faces, the way everything just went boom!”

Y/N nodded, her eyes distant as she watched Jinx in her wild, uncontained joy. She had always been the unpredictable one, the one who thrived on chaos. But for a brief, fleeting moment, Y/N could almost see the younger girl she had once tried to protect, the girl who had held her so tightly and whispered promises of a future together.

But that was before the blood, before Silco had fully taken hold of them both.

Now, they were just two sides of the same coin—both molded by the same hands, both irrevocably lost in the world Silco had crafted for them.

Y/N looked at Jinx, her heart aching, but she said nothing. The weight of the years, of the choices she had made, crushed the words in her chest.

She was his weapon. She would always be his weapon.

And she would never leave Jinx. But they were both beyond saving now.

The air on the rooftop was thick with tension, charged with the anger and pain that had been simmering for years. The sounds of the city below seemed to fade into the background as Y/N and Vi stood across from each other, fists clenched, breaths heavy.

Vi moved first, lunging toward Y/N with a fierce cry, her fist aimed directly at her face. Y/N barely dodged it, but the force of the punch made her stumble back. She retaliated quickly, throwing a punch of her own, her knuckles connecting with Vi’s jaw with a satisfying thud. The impact sent Vi staggering but she quickly regained her footing.

“You think you can just show up and everything will be fine?” Y/N spat, eyes blazing with emotion. “Where the hell were you, Vi? Where were you when she needed you?” She threw another punch, her anger only intensifying as Vi blocked it and retaliated.

“I was trying to save you both!” Vi shouted back, her voice breaking as she swung her fist at Y/N. “I never wanted to leave you! But after the explosion, I was thrown in prison! Do you think I wanted that? Do you think I wanted to be stuck in there while you—while you stayed with Silco?” She punched Y/N hard in the stomach, making her double over, gasping for air.

Y/N straightened herself, barely fazed, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “I didn’t have a choice, Vi! I stayed because I had to stay close to her,” she snarled, gritting her teeth. “I had to stay with Powder to keep her safe! I stayed for her, and look at what she’s become now. Do you think I wanted to become this? A tool for Silco?”

Vi hesitated for a moment, her face contorting with a mixture of confusion and anger. “You think I don’t know how hard it was?” she retorted, her voice shaking. “I was stuck in that godforsaken prison, trying to figure out how to get back to you. And when I finally got out, all I found was the wreckage. All I found was you—changed. And I couldn’t find Powder. I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix any of it.”

Y/N stepped back, her chest heaving as she processed Vi’s words. “You left us, Vi,” she said, her voice quieter now, but still laced with bitterness. “You were supposed to protect her, too. You were supposed to help us when everything fell apart. And you weren’t there. You were gone, and I was the one left to pick up the pieces.” Her hands balled into fists again, her emotions rising once more. “Do you know what I had to do to stay close to her? Do you know what it cost me?”

Vi’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she seemed to falter. “What do you mean? What did you have to do, Y/N?” Her voice was low, almost desperate, as she stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, the memories rushing back. “I had to bury everything I was. I had to do things I never thought I would be capable of. I did it because I needed to stay with Powder. I stayed with Silco, took on his orders—became part of his world—because it was the only way I could be close to her. To keep her from falling deeper into whatever nightmare she was becoming. I had to.”

The words came out in a rush, like a dam finally breaking, and Y/N’s fists trembled at her sides. “I had to make a choice, Vi. And I chose her. I chose to stay with the monster in order to keep her safe. And all this time, I kept pretending I wasn’t losing myself in the process. But I didn’t have a choice.”

Vi stood still, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her mind racing to process what Y/N had just revealed. She didn’t know how to respond. She had spent years imagining what had happened to Y/N, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to lose myself, too?” Y/N said bitterly, her eyes locked onto Vi’s, her chest rising and falling with the weight of everything they had never said. “I became a weapon, a tool for Silco’s empire, because that was the only way I could stay in the same damn city as Powder. And I stayed for her. But look at me now. Look at what I’ve become.”

Vi shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened to us, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But I’m not going to let you keep falling. I’m not going to leave you again. You are still my sister.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the words, but she shook her head, a pained laugh escaping her lips. “You think you can save me now, Vi?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of despair and anger. “It’s too late for me. I’m already too far gone.”

But Vi didn’t give up. She stepped forward again, this time slower, more cautiously, her fists lowering at her sides. “Then we’ll fix this together,” she said softly, her eyes searching Y/N’s for something—anything—that could prove her wrong.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her eyes locked on Vi’s, but her thoughts racing a mile a minute. The fire in Vi’s eyes was strong, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe it—not fully. The girl she once was, the one who fought for a better world, was long gone. The person standing before Vi now was a stranger, shaped by the darkness of Silco’s empire, molded by years of violence and manipulation.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Vi,” Y/N said finally, her voice almost inaudible. She shook her head, her expression softening for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve already lost myself. Who I was—she’s gone. I don’t even know how to be that person anymore. What Silco made me... that's all I know now.” Her words were barely a whisper, but they felt like a weight on her chest.

Vi’s face dropped, her hope beginning to flicker as she saw the depth of Y/N’s pain. She took a step closer, but Y/N took a step back, her resolve hardening again, a wall going up between them.

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Y/N whispered, her voice rough with the bitter truth. “But I’m not that person anymore. And I never will be.”

Before Vi could say anything, Y/N’s hand moved instinctively to her belt. She pulled out one of Jinx’s smoke bombs, her fingers trembling slightly as she held it up, feeling the weight of it in her palm. It felt familiar—too familiar. It was the only thing that had kept her alive through the chaos, the one thing she could still rely on.

With a swift motion, she tossed the smoke bomb to the ground, and in an instant, a thick cloud of purple smoke enveloped them both, clouding their vision and choking the air. Coughing, Vi tried to push through the smoke, but by the time she cleared her lungs and eyes, Y/N was already gone.

The rooftop was silent once more, the echoes of their battle still lingering in the thick fog. And Vi stood there, alone, the weight of everything they had said, and everything they hadn’t, hanging heavily in the air.

[lady-quen]

"NO! You cannot roast a hotdog over the Commander's personal portal to hell!"

"For the hundredth time it's NOT a portal to hell, Taimi!"

[limethefirst]

Hellooo, i hope your having a beautiful day. I saw your requests are open and that you wrote for movie shadow once. Would it be okay if maybe i requested movie shadow x a reader who prehaps eggmans niece. Maybe then when its just shadow, stone and her on the crab prehaps she takes shadow to her room on the crab and trys to play and show him some of her stuff not scared of him. Then maybe she remind him of maria 🥹? Idk i have sonic brainrot after seeing the movie today lol and ive had this idea since.

Do I look like her?

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehogs x reader (platonic)

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers

summary: as the niece of Eggman you are left behind on the crab with Shadow as the men finish their mission, but every time Shadow looks at you he sees someone else.

a/n: hii thank you so much for the request! I’ve been wanting to write more Sonic 3 fics because I love the movie so much! I hope this is to your liking and you have an amazing day!!!

You watched your uncle Robotnik and Gerald walked away together, planning to sneak into GUN and steal the final keycard they needed, leaving you, Stone and Shadow.

“I have avocados in The Crab. Let’s go make guac!” Stone chimed, both you and Shadow turned your head to look at him.

“Revenge guac.” Shadow responded, his brows furrowed watching as Stone slowly helped you back into the sewer drain.

You were warned about Shadow, he was dangerous Robotnik had told you. Robotnik was somewhat caring when it came to you, he wasn’t harsh nor rude, he saw you as a responsibility but not a burden. He was kinder around you, maybe he saw a bit of himself, being all alone in a world that tended to abandon.

Whatever it was, you knew his warnings were usually right, but having been around the hedgehog for a while you honestly didn’t believe your uncle. Shadow, although seemed tough, you could tell there was more behind the persona and all the walls he’d put up.

Stone walked over to the island in the middle of the Crab, preparing the avocados for the guacamole he planned to make.

You took the opportunity to show Shadow around. Being the youngest of the bunch you didn’t have many friends and this was a chance to make a new one.

Quickly you walked in front of Shadow, a bright smile on your face highlighting the innocence in all your features, it was eerily reminiscent of someone.

“Come, I wanna show you around!” You told Shadow, grabbing his gloved hand unannounced, making him slightly more on guard. Stone looked up from the guac he was currently working on, he seemed happy; smiling at the two kids.

Shadow didn’t say much as you dragged him to your room, he just looked at you. Watching as your hand gripped onto his, he couldn’t help but hold on as well. Fearing that if he let go he may never find it again.

As he watched you near the closed door, he couldn’t help but take in all that you were, your demeanor, your way of speaking, your bright attitude, it was just like hers.

“This is my room!” Your hand started letting go of his but his grip only tightened. You looked down at his hand and back up at him as his eyes scanned the small room. You only smiled at his gesture, not feeling the need to point it out.

As you guided him around still hand in hand you saw his eyes checking every corner of the room, “It’s small,”

Your sudden laugh catches him off guard, his head quickly turning to see your free hand covering your mouth, “Sorry sorry! It’s just that’s the first thing you say to me?” You jokingly tell the hedgehog.

He watches you for a little bit longer, his eyes widening. As he stares up at you, all he sees is her. It wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that you looked like Maria, no not at all, it was the fact your personality towards him resembled her so much.

You weren’t afraid, you approached him and didn’t see him as a weapon or some type of lab rat. It was like he was really a person around you, like he was capable of caring again.

Shadow didn’t say much, and that was okay, you could do most of the talking anyway, you enjoyed being able to finally talk to someone.

You sat Shadow down on the floor, letting go of his hand so you could show him some of the toys and games you owned, knowing he lived 50 years in the past you wanted to keep him up to date on all the newer stuff that had come up. While you were grabbing some items you decided to also play a movie, it would be cool to show him the new films they’d come out with.

He silently watched you hurry around the room, dropping strange toys onto him. He felt some weird string toys get stuck in his quills.

You heard him rustle around, seeing him pull out your worm on a string, “Very colorful,” he grunted, as he tossed the toy in the pile in front of him.

All you did was smile as you sat in front of him, describing each toy and how they worked, as the latest Godzilla movie played in the background.

It was ironic really, back then Godzilla was a monster and now he was a friend protecting the people from the other monsters.

He no longer sat with Maria watching movies and playing games, now he sat with you. Oh how things really have changed.

[fangdokja]

Forbidden Fruits (FF) : Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

Step into a world where love is a weapon, devotion is madness, and desire knows no boundaries. Forbidden Fruits is a collection of intensely dark and unapologetically explicit stories that plunge you into the arms of your most dangerous obsessions.

Each tale invites you to surrender to the irresistible pull of yanderes from across your favorite anime, manga, manhwa, and games. They’ll devour you whole—body, mind, and soul—with a love that is as passionate as it is possessive. From bloodstained confessions to twisted vows whispered in the dark, this anthology explores every forbidden craving, every unspoken taboo, and every edge of desire.

There’s no escape. They’ll have you, ruin you, and cherish every shattered piece of you. Because in their world, you are theirs—and they will destroy anyone, even you, to keep it that way.

Forbidden Fruits is a feast for the bold, where no sin is too dark, no boundary is sacred, and the sweetest pleasures are found in the shadows.

Trigger Warnings (Dead Dove): Contains extremely dark themes, explicit non-consensual content, and depictions of taboo scenarios. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

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Table of Contents

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)

♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:

────────────

General Stories

Yandere! Family & Daughter

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Grandfather, Father, Older Brother, Twin Brother

Novella 1 : Daddy Issues

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Yandere! Fan/s & Playgirl

Novella 1 : Savage Love

🔞Savage Love 1

🔞Savage Love 2

Savage Love 3

Savage Love 4

Savage Love 5

Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister

Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart

⭐You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

⭐🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

Yandere! Serial Killer/s & Little Detective (?)

Novella 1 : Hybristophilia

⭐"The first time I touched death, I vowed it wouldn’t be the last."

🔞Hybristophilia 2

🔞Hybristophilia 3

🔞Hybristophilia 4

🔞Hybristophilia 5

Hybristophilia 6

Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter

Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege

He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.

🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.

🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.

🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.

🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.

She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.

Yandere! Valentines Special

Novella : Red Roses, Black Hearts

⭐This Valentine’s, your heart might be the last thing you give away.

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse AU

Novella 1 : “If I Can’t Have You, No One Can.”

Zombie Apocalypse 1

Zombie Apocalypse 2

Zombie Apocalypse 3

Zombie Apocalypse 4

Zombie Apocalypse 5

Zombie Apocalypse 6

Specific Stories

Multiverse / Crossovers

Headcanons

Oneshots

WuWa! Scar, HXH! Hisoka!, BL! Shido

———

Mixed Character Stories

Headcanons

Deon Hardt, Villain! Deku

Novella 1 : Dominate Me, Daddy. (Brat Tamer)

🔞Will you scream? Or will you beg? (Bakugo Katsuki, Yoichi Isagi, Ryōmen Sukuna, Rex Lapis, Sunday)

Novelette 1 : Rivals (Enemies to ...?)

Alhaitham, Dr. Ratio, Mortefi, Viktor

———

Note: Before the NSFW Jealousy Headcanons Scenarios and other noncon NSFW, there will be 2 Headcanons Series (General + Jealousy) for every set of characters.

Blue Lock

Headcanons 1 : A Slave To His Will (General)

With him, there’s no ‘no’. Only ‘yes, sir’. (Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi)

Headcanons 2 : (Jealousy)

(Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi)

Boku no Hero Academia

Headcanons 1 : Ruined, Owned, Loved. (General)

You’re the light he vowed to keep, even if he has to snuff it out first. (Katsuki, Shouto, Villain! Deku, Dabi)

(Endeavor, All Might, Eraserhead, ...?)

Genshin Impact

Headcanons 2 : Heart's Chains (Jealousy)

The cage he’s built for you is so beautiful, you almost forget it’s there. (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif)

"You’ll love me," he whispered. "Even if it kills you." (Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya)

His affection is a slow poison—sweet, deadly, and inevitable. (Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney)

He’ll pay any price for your love—what’s your worth? (Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

[Meme] "The Genshin Yandere You Picked Could Have a Lot to Say About Your… Interests" (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif, Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney, Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

Headcanons 3 : Heart's Sins (SNAPPED! Jealous NSFW)

[Prelude] "You didn’t just break my heart; you shattered it. And now I’ll make you pay for it." (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif, Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney, Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

Haikyuu!!

Headcanons 1 : General

(Atsumu Miya, Oikawa Tooru, Tetsurou Kuroo, Wakatoshi Ushijima)

Honkai Star Rail

Headcanons 1 : The Game of Surrender (General)

He doesn’t need your trust—he just needs your surrender. (Boothill, Blade, Sunday, Aventurine)

They’re not heroes. They’re your tormentors, and you’ll love every second of it. (Mr. Reca, Mydei, Anaxa, Phainon)

(Dr. Ratio, Caelus, Nanook, ...?)

Headcanons 2 : Falling Into Darkness (Jealousy)

He doesn’t love like anyone else—he loves you like you’re the last thing that matters. (Boothill, Blade, Sunday, Aventurine)

🔞Every glance you give someone is a dagger in his heart, and he's ready to make you bleed. (Mr. Reca, Mydei, Anaxa, Phainon)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Headcanons 1 : The Ruin of You (General)

He made the word “forever” sound like a death sentence. (Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Ryōmen Sukuna, Naoya Zen’in)

[Meme] 🔞You like them crazy because deep down, you are too. (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong)

Headcanons 4 : Eclipse Paradiso (Otome Isekai)

In a world where love is a curse, who will you trust to keep you alive? (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong)

Novella 1 : Two Birds Forever Young (Sukuna)

Two Birds Forever Young 1

Two Birds Forever Young 2

Two Birds Forever Young 3

Two Birds Forever Young 4

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang

Headcanons 1 : When Love Kills (General)

⭐️Fleeing is futile. The hunt has only just begun. (Granger, Gusion, Aamon, Xavier)

Headcanons 2 : (Jealousy)

(Granger, Gusion, Aamon, Xavier)

Wuthering Waves

Headcanons 1 : Unholy Possession (General)

⭐️He’ll destroy you—because that’s how much he loves you. (Scar, Geshu Lin, Jiyan, Xiangli Yao)

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud , @songbirdgardensworld , @monamuskay , @yandreams-storageblog , @tnsophiaayaonly

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2 [you are here]. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. ♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[triptuckers]

drunk in love - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing: remy lebeau x reader Summary: remy is comes home drunk, so you take care of him Warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, mentions of sexual themes/making out but not actually the real thing dont worry, remy being a whiny lovesick puppy, one mention of throwing up but no actual throwing up Word count: 1.7K A/N: currently binge watching x men 97 PLEASE give me more gambit content pls marvel I'm willing to beg you on my knees. based on a screenshot I saw of a comic page. enjoy!

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you're sitting on the couch, reading your book. it's dark outside, and the clock on the wall tells you it's way too late for you to be awake. you weren't a night owl, but this book was just too good. every time you want to put it away, a chapter ends in a cliffhanger. you couldn't bring yourself to close it without finding out what happened next.

the story is so good and you're so focused on it, you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the door knob rattle.

it was late and remy wasn't home. he went out drinking with some of the other x-men. it wasn't often they were all free and in the same city, so you knew if it did happen, remy would usually stay out til late. not coming home til long after you'd gone to bed already.

you weren't expecting him to come home this early, so you're immediately on guard. slowly, you put your book down and creep closer to the front door. you grab the closest thing you can find to use as a weapon. you don't know how much damage a tissue box could do, but at the very least you could throw it at the intruder and run away.

remy had tried to teach you some self defence tricks in case something happened and he wasn't home, but he was nearly always right there with you, so you never really learned it.

you wish you had paid him more attention now.

as you get closer to the front door, you see a shadow silhouetted against the glass. and then you hear a voice, cursing while trying to open the door.

'merde... why won't this fucking key fit... fuck off...'

you unlock the door and open it. maybe a little too quickly, because remy all but stumbles into you. you barely manage to catch him.

when he looks up at you, he gives you a dazzling smile with his eyes half closed. 'hello, mon amour.' he says.

you laugh softly and roll your eyes as you shake your head. of course he'd stumble home drunk. you already know your evening is far from over when he's like this.

'come on.' you say. 'let's get you inside.'

remy does a spectacularly bad job at getting up. and he's heavy.

'remy.' you say, holding on to him. 'work with me here.'

you manage to get him inside and lock the door again. remy is looking at you with a smile on his face.

'I hadn't expected you back yet.' you say, walking into the kitchen.

remy follows you and grabs one of your hands with both of his.

'I missed you, chéri.' he says, pulling you close and nuzzling his face in your neck.

'we live together, remy. I saw you this afternoon.' you say.

you feel his lips press against the side of your neck. you briefly close your eyes and allow yourself to revel in the feeling. then you gently push him away.

you hear remy whine and turn to see him pout at you.

'you don't love me anymore?' he says.

'of course I do, my love.' you say. 'but you're drunk. you need to drink some water and go to bed.'

you grab a clean glass and walk over to the sink. as you're filling it up with water, you can sense remy's presence behind you. seconds later, you feel his hands on your hips and his chin on your shoulder.

you mange to turn around in his arms and hand him the glass of water.

'drink up.'

'can I get a kiss afterwards?'

you roll your eyes. you don't want to admit you think it's adorable when he's this handsy and affectionate. you would only encourage him and you really meant it: you wouldn't do anything when he's drunk. he'd do the same if the roles were reversed.

'sure, love, you can get a kiss afterwards.'

you have to hold back your laughter as remy's eyes light up and he downs the glass in one go. you smirk and blow him a kiss before he can lean in.

'hey, what the fuck! no fair!' he exclaims, frowning.

'come on.' you say, holding out your hand to him. 'let's go to bed.'

he all but stumbles over his feet in his haste to grab your hand and follow you.

'yeah, let's go to bed.' you hear remy say behind you. you can tell by the tone in his voice you two have different ideas about 'going to bed'.

'to sleep, remy.' you clarify.

he sighs so loudly you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. you smile to yourself, amused at how fast his moods change when he's drunk. and about the fact he's such a love sick puppy when he's had a few. that is, more of a love sick puppy than he normally is. god, he really loves you.

when you get to your bedroom, you motion for remy to sit down on the bed. you kneel down to untie his boots.

'loving this view, mon amour.' comes remy's voice from above you. 'you know I love it when you get on your knees for me.'

'I'm just taking off your boots.'

'sure you are.'

'I am, remy.'

'are you sure?'

'yes, I am sure.'

remy sighs dramatically and lets himself fall back onto the bed. you glance up at him and see how tight his pants are. of course he'd not only be overly affectionate, but also turned on.

you tug off his boots and socks, raising to your feet.

'stand up for me, please.' you say.

remy opens his eyes and smirks at you from his position on the bed.

'now this view, I like.'

'it's literally so late remy, come on, I want to go to bed.'

he takes a hold of the hand you offer him and lets you pull him to his feet. you reach out to undo his belt.

'wow, chéri, buy me dinner first.' remy mumbles above you. you can tell by his quiet voice he's ready to go to sleep but fighting to stay awake. you wonder how much of this he'll remember tomorrow.

after undoing his belt and helping him out of his pants, you tell him to put his arms up so you can pull his shirt over his head. he does what you ask and doesn't even make a flirty comment about it. that tells you his tiredness is really kicking in.

you briefly step away to get a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of the closet. as you hand them to him, you allow remy to rest his hand on your shoulder as he puts on the pants you've given him. you let your eyes linger on his muscular chest as he puts on the shirt. you really did get lucky with him, even if he can't keep his hands off of you when he's drunk.

you gently guide him to the bed and help him lay down. you get into the bed next to him and feel how remy pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck.

'you will kiss me tomorrow, right?' he mumbles against your skin.

you run your hands lazily through his hair. 'if you aren't hungover as fuck, which I think you will be, then yes, I'll kiss you, my love.' you say.

'oh fuck yes.' he says, making you chuckle softly.

'goodnight, remy.' you say.

'sweet dreams, mon amour.' he says.

just as you expected, remy falls asleep within seconds. you lay there for a while, absently running your fingers through his hair and thinking about how much you love him, before you eventually fall asleep as well.

when you wake up in the morning, your chest feels heavy. you open your eyes to see remy has somehow put his entire body on yours during the night.

you stay like that for a while, until you can no longer deny you really want breakfast.

with some effort, you push remy off of you so you can get up. he's still asleep as you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.

as you make breakfast, you're softly humming to yourself while you're in the kitchen.

your morning is quiet. you decide to let remy sleep for as long as he wants, maybe it would make his hangover less extreme.

just as you're making your lunch, you hear remy coming down the stairs. he stumbles into the kitchen, grumbling something in thick accented cajun you can't understand.

then he all but leans his entire body weight on you as he's standing behind you.

'why does the world hate me?' he says.

you laugh. 'good afternoon to you too, my love.'

'morning.' he mumbles. 'your voice is so loud, chéri.'

'this is the thanks I get for taking care of your drunk ass last night?'

'sorry. was I being an asshole?'

'no, just the usual. you couldn't keep your hands off of me.'

'you're used to that.'

'I am.'

you turn around. remy wraps his arms around you and drops his forehead to your shoulder.

'is this what dying feels like?' he mumbles.

'no, my love, this is what being extremely hungover feels like.' you say. 'you want coffee?'

'dear god no, the thought of it makes me want to throw up. I'll just lay on the couch.'

'you're so dramatic.' you say, gently taking a hold of his face and holding it in front of you.

remy closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 'this is making me feel better already.'

you lean in and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. when you pull back, he opens his eyes and smiles briefly at you. then he sways a bit on his feet and sucks in a sharp breath.

'still want to kiss me like you said yesterday?'

'oh, mon amour, I think if I stand really still and you don't move, the world stops spinning.'

you laugh at him as he groans, pressing one hand to his forehead. you decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. the two of you alternate between taking naps and you reading your book out loud to him. as the day passes, you can't help but to think that maybe a hungover remy isn't so bad. you secretly love how he refuses to leave your side when he's hungover.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[sahisan]

— curiousity killed the cat.

featuring . pm!dazai osamu.

tags . suggestive, so slight nsfw. civilian!gn!reader. dazai's a bit sick. just pmzai things yk (he's scary). weapons described (he has a gun). blood mentioned. gunplay mentioned (brief suggestive description). wc 1.8k.

author note . this is so random i don't even know if the paragraphs do well together bc i just poured my most random thoughts into it and i was sleepy and barely managed to proofread it. yep. i imagined mostly 20-22!pmzai here. continuation kinda here.

dazai hid many things. he hid them well; years of being on constant standby, awaiting, on guard about anything enemy or not related. he hid in the shadows no matter day or night, but the shadows didn't always necessarily mean him only scrambling around in narrow alleyways or in the safety of the headquarters—in reality, he spent little time in the latter, nor did he 'lurk in the shadows' often, unless on a mission.

he hid everything from everyone, including you; of course including you. and the thing that bothered him the most was you finding out about what he does. did. has done. keeps on doing every day. not only does he not want the port mafia's countless enemies to know about you, but dazai also dreads the thought of you getting even a little bit closer to the truth of what he does for a living. he thinks of how he might slip one day and just reveal his true nature, intentionally or not, and either let you be disgusted and scared or kill you immediately because you might report to the police; it bothers him in both ways.

dazai avoids the area of your home when out at work. he makes sure to put on some casual clothes before visiting your place. when things are bad, work routine and you colliding together closer to night, he makes sure to hold a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his inner pocket to quickly wash away the stains of blood from his clothes. he keeps a bit of cologne there as well, to hide the stench of blood he usually reeks of during the day—he doesn't even use cologne daily. if you need him right after work, he disposes of his weapons, giving them away to the underlings that follow his word.

everything is always under control.

like tonight. he'd had a "kill and dispose" assignment, after which he'd had to go to yours and spoil you with a movie night he promised you. ah, the long-awaited respite from everyday bloodshed.

yet he was still on guard; he always has been, but today was busy and rough and all he needed was your embrace and a movie as a background noise while he showered you with kisses and cuddled you with neverending hugs.

and dazai forgot.

already at your doorstep, already having ringed the bell by your front door when dazai looked down at himself and—

fuck.

there was a small but clear blood stain right next to his tie. ah. how great. he definitely won't have time to remove it, but he might try to win some time to divert your attention from it if you notice—and you will, if he doesn't do anything about it.

with the door opening, dazai threw himself at you, literally waltzing into your apartment, hip to hip, your left hand in his right and his left hand at your waist, he led you through the corridor in an almost hasty improvisation of a dance, causing his tie to sway just in the right direction and have you giving him a look that screamed "you and your antics again?". good.

"ah, you look especially divine tonight," he mused, nuzzling your neck and making you place your chin on his shoulder; very good, the stain was out of your sight at least for now, and he couldn't be happier about that. "i haven't had dinner yet but i already know what i want for dessert."

distract. distract and avert and keep away—best tactic of dazai's that rarely failed, and he was used to putting it to use everywhere he could, including you. you could be perceptive or gullible, didn't matter—it worked wonders on anyone and will continue working for as long as he wanted to.

dazai swayed you around a few more times, dancing his way into your living room while humming a nauseatingly sweet, random tune he made up in his head a second ago. hip against yours again, he let a content smirk wash over his lips.

a clank. soft, quiet sound of metal clanking once echoed through the room, and it was almost eerie silence aside from his barely audible humming just as his hipbone met yours.

that didn't sound good, considering the only thing on his hip was—

ah. dazai forgot two things tonight.

in reverie about cursing himself head to toe in his mind, he lost the sensation of your touch until it felt too suspicious and he was too late, you reaching for the side hem of his coat and tugging it away from his side to reveal it to the light. you were always so curious, and he couldn't tell whether it was bad or good for him in general.

the soft clink echoed once more as your fingers grazed the object, and his eyes narrowed. the gun. shit. in his distracted state, he'd forgotten to dispose of it along with wiping away the blood.

dazai's hand shot out from beneath the coat, and he knew he wasn't doing himself a favor by raising his hand to grab yours, only revealing the holster further, but he didn't necessarily give a shit right now. he ought to do more than care about the gun right now, like a proper boyfriend, first being calming you down and assuring you it's not loaded and isn't as scary as it looks and that you shouldn't be afraid and the second being change of course of the conversation so seamlessly that you forget about the weapon for the rest of the night at least (unfortunately, the last sentence never crossed his mind).

but when did dazai ever go according to an adequate plan?

his hand held yours in the air, palm gliding up and down your inner forearm, trying to, first, soothe every negative emotion that might come up on the surface of your face, as well as keeping your curious hand away.

"ah-ah-ah, how naughty," dazai purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as his eyes glinted with dangerous amusement; what he was supposed to be doing absolutely slipped from his thoughts the second he sensed the quickening of your heartbeat and breath and the cautious halting and tensing of your body against his, and he was already getting hard just from this. sick. "what did i tell you about wandering hands, hmm?"

he ground his hips against yours once after that, letting you feel the growing hardness in his pants. distraction. that was the key. keep you focused on his body, on the pleasure he could give you, and you'd forget all about that pesky gun in no time.

“careful there, baby. wouldn’t want you to accidentally shoot yourself,” he said with a twisted, growing grin. his other hand, previously holding your left one, slid away from it to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your jawline in a mockery of tenderness, visible eye looking down at your mouth.

"i'd hate to see those pretty lips marred by blood."

and yet, once he'd lifted his eyes up to yours, dazai could feel you tense under his touch, heart racing beneath your skin. he knew that look in your eyes, that widening of your pupils; he was all too familiar with it. fear. he had been so focused on the thrilling, twisted satisfaction the situation brought him momentarily, that he hadn't noticed how his actions were affecting you. his grip on your wrist loosened, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your inner wrist.

dazai sighed, deciding it was time to stop scaring you with both his demeanor and the weapon, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now at all; he had a switch to pull off, an appearance to keep up in front of you. ah, but how he'd love to prolong that moment for just a little longer: your fear palpable in the air, that scared glance you cast at him once, the trembling of your hands, hitch in your breathing and increase of your heartbeat.

maybe later.

"easy, easy," he murmured, voice low and soothing even as his mind raced. he tapped the holster twice. "it's not loaded, see?" a lie. "just a little souvenir," a lie. the gun was always loaded, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, but you surely didn't need to know that. he'd already subjected you to more horror than a civilian would need to witness.

dazai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "you know i'd never be involved with these types of things and would never hurt you, right?" honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity words. what he was absolutely best at was lying and manipulating, and he couldn't even control it anymore; if he needed you to believe, he will make you believe, one way or another.

"but you also shouldn't go poking around where you don't belong," he purred lowly with an audible dangerous lilt to his tone, lips now moving lower and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. "who knows what kind of trouble you might find yourself in. curiosity killed the cat, you know. you never know when you'll be the cat. and I'm not sure i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dazai could try to keep you away from his sicko tendencies and mind and thoughts that were all over the place and mingled together; the thoughts of protecting you from all of this meeting the ones of putting that gun to better use that just shooting people. and right now, he was barely holding it all in.

think of it this way: the thoughts of keeping his precious favourite civilian away from the corrupted knowledge and pain and feeling you tremble in fear underneath him, with the barrel of his gun tracing over your bare skin and getting dangerously close to where you'd need him most? oh, did the latter make dazai's stomach contort with desire and hips buckle up into yours. he would have to think more clearly about this later when his head wasn't a wreck of everything at once, but now...

"you want to play with something hard, baby?" dazai murmured in the end, all sultry and beaming with desire. "i'll give you something much better than a piece of metal to wrap your pretty fingers around."

dazai was sick and his mind twisted and he didn't get how he could ever keep someone like you by his side, but he supposed it was fate; and for as long as fate was merciful to him, he would make good use of it.

"but behave, hmm?"

[shotmrmiller]

tw: simon's mean and a sexist.

Simon who doesn't like you. He respects Laswell, who's intel is vital to their missions. Price as the leader of the Task Force. Gaz because he's proved his mettle time and time again, and Soap whose stubborn self has burrowed under Simon's thick, knotted flesh.

Not you, though.

You've yet to do anything substantial.

As a sniper, your job is to aim and kill; provide overwatch. Why Johnny insists on giving you praise for doing what is required of you is beyond him.

You aren't taken to below-zero temperatures as emotional support. Why you're taken at all is also another mystery.

Without your gun, you're utterly useless. And Simon proves it, time and time again during training spars at base.

He comes at you as if you're the enemy, with dangerous precision and quick movements. Simon gets enjoyment out of seeing your eyes widen when he moves, like an injured gazelle who's just spotted a ravenous lion.

His grip is bruising— the force that he slams you to the ground with devastating.

Simon can hear the air punched out of your lungs once your back hits the mat, and the time it takes for your vision to sharpen, he's already pinning you down viciously with a knee to the sternum.

Useless. Women don't belong in combat. He's seen that big brute from KorTac. He'd crush your pathetic little head under his palm, he'd kick your ribs hard enough to crack and the splintered ends pierce your lungs.

He'd kill you without a hint of effort.

And Simon intends to remind you that there is no place for weak, bitty things like you in the front lines. Unless you're to be used as a distraction by flashing your tits at the bad guys.

Out of place.

Every time you go up against him, he uses his size and strength against you, just like every other person will. He launches you across the floor with a single arm, only to watch you struggle to get up and continue this sham of a fight.

Confidence born of ignorance.

As if sheer will would ever beat physical prowess.

If your feet won't touch the ground, then the rest of your body will. Through spilled blood and bruised flesh, may you learn.

He whistles at Johnny, gesturing at him to take his place, only for the end result to be the same, albeit much more gently.

Simon watches you through half-lidded eyes as he leans up against the wall. You fight against inevitability.

Pathetic.

And then one day, you come at him with a snarl on your lips. Blunt teeth that have never had to sink into someone's neck and rip a throat out, out of utter desperation. An unblemished face that's never felt the sting of a sharp blade as it's sliced open contorted into 'rage.' Frothing at the mouth like a lap dog with rabies, barking out words that are as empty as your future.

A forceful wave of his hand abruptly halts you mid-sentence, causing you to involuntarily flinch in response. Good.

"If ya have a complaint, take it to Price. I am not obligated to humor your stupidity."

He spins on the balls of his feet, leaving you to sputter indignantly.

Then on a mission, you get shot. Simon grabs the handgun that's holstered on his chest, and places it in your bloodied hands. "Keep them off of us, or we're both dead!"

His fingers are curled around the thick strap of your tac vest as he drags you toward the LZ; his pace never faltering even while getting clipped by stray bullets. But you?

He'd think you got your legs cut off. Wailing like a cat in heat over a wound above your hip. A clean in and out, nothing vital hit.

Simon has seen Gaz fall out of a helicopter, dangle from a rope, and still use his gun. He's seen Johnny cross a town full of Graves' Shadows bleeding from his shoulder, armed with nothing but the makeshift weapons he crafted on the way to the church. Price inhaled toxic gas and made it out just fine. Even Laswell was taken hostage and didn't crack under the pressure, going as far as killing her captor with her bare hands.

And you're decomposing in front of his very eyes over a superficial wound.

Landing at base, he walks out without a glance back and heads straight for Price's office. He didn't join the 141 to babysit anyone, least of all someone who belongs in either intelligence or a kitchen.

[oh-my-damn]

Cat Behavior

Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav/reader

Summary: You've noticed certain behaviors in your vampire lover. And it's adorable.

Wordcount: 1600

Warnings: None. Pure, unadulterated fluff. Fun and sassy (and in love) Astarion. Astarion being a kitty-cat.

Masterlist

The best part about getting that damn worm inserted in his head was the fact it took away some of the side effects from being a vampire.

Astarion had never been able to enjoy the benefits of being one - for 200 years he was forced to do his masters bidding, always hiding in the shadows and being fed rats to sustain himself - if he was allowed to eat, at all. That's without even mentioning the things he was forced to do, the matter of his consent not even an afterthought in Cazadors mind.

But the tadpole had taken away those issues, even if it was only temporarily for now, which allowed him to enjoy the things about himself he hasn't been able to for the past 200 years. Those things included his speed and agility when fighting, using his fangs as both a weapon but also as a way to taste the sweetest nectar he could ever imagine. Nothing quite compared to sinking his teeth into your beautiful neck, the little shivers in your body as he drank from you.

Except maybe one thing.

The tadpole allowed him to be in the sun, again.

When the nautiloid first crash landed and he was thrown from it haphazardly, he thought it would be the end of him. He woke up on that beach, and he immediately felt heat - something he hasn't felt in several lifetimes. He thought that would be the end; that he would perish right there, on some disgusting beach surrounded by smelly fishermen and even smellier mindflayers, burning in the sun.

But when his scarlet eyes popped open after minutes of feeling that heat but no pain, he realized that whatever had been done to him must have had an affect on his vampirism, in some strange way.

And since then, he has cherished being in the sun – almost as much as he cherishes being around you.

You've noticed how he tends to gravitate towards the sunny spots wherever you go. The first time you took note of it was in Grymforge. Astarion had managed to find the only spot in your entire camp where, despite Grymforge being in the Underdark, a small beam of sunlight had made it's way through the rubbles.

You chose not to comment on it, though. It didn't surprise you to learn that he wanted to enjoy the sun for as much as possible, after hundreds of years of lurking in the shadows. Seeing him in that spot in your camp reminded you of the first time the two of you spent the night together - or rather, it reminded you of the morning after the two of you had spent your first night together.

Waking up to see him standing in that clearing, his eyes closed and head tilted backwards, soaking in the warmth of the sun. You hadn't fully realized what it meant at the time, being so early on in your acquaintance, but you understood now.

Which is why you've never mentioned it to him when you notice him subtly moving around whenever you're in camp, to try and find the best patch of sun to sit in. Part of you is unsure whether he is even aware he is doing it - it starts out with him leaning towards where the sun is moving, and then shifting short distances when it moves too far; all while still reading his book, or talking with the others, or drinking his wine.

The one time it does annoy you, however, is during times like today.

You're all back at camp, enjoying a well deserved half day off, and the sun has been beating down on you for most of the day. The afternoon is lurking, which means the sun is slowly moving across the sky, preparing to set for the day.

You're sitting around the un-lit campfire with the others, Karlach and Wyll sitting at your left, Gale and Shadowheart at your right, and Halsin and Jaheira straight across.

Everyone is talking casually or reading a book, seemingly all enjoying an afternoon of quiet resting before your next big confrontation interrupts it.

You and Astarion are sitting on a blanket, each of you with a glass of well deserved wine in hand. Well, perhaps sitting is not the right word; he is leaning back on his hands with his legs in front of him, and you're resting your head on his thigh. He's deep in conversation with Halsin, and you wouldn't have considered Astarion to be as interested in the druid as he seemingly is, if it wasn't for the fact you suspect he might be just a teensy bit attracted to the beefy elf.

You're having a conversation with Karlach and Wyll, the two of them asking questions about your past and defending their inquiries with the fact that you know so much about them and they barely know anything about you.

You're replying with chuckles and smiles for the most part, indulging them, carefully taking sips of wine with your head leaning on Astarions thigh.

The sun moves slightly on the blue sky, as it always does this time of day, and you want to curse at yourself for not seeing what happens next coming in advance.

Just as you're about to reply to one of Karlach's questions, your pillow (Astarion's thigh) is snatched away from under your head, resulting in it thunking against the grass. Your boyfriend shifts away, completely oblivious to what just happened as he lets out a delighted laugh at whatever Halsin tells him.

Your let out a hrmpf at the impact, your brows pulling into a frown when you sit up, rubbing the back of your head with your fingers, "Ow."

Karlach and Wyll both watch you with widened eyes, their gaze bouncing between yourself and Astarion, the latter still completely unaware of how he just moved away from you to accommodate for the moving sunbeam he always chases.

"What just happened?" Karlach muses, tilting her head. The question makes Astarion glance over at her, taking a sip of his wine, "What do you mean?"

You narrow your eyes when they find your lover, letting out another disgruntled noise, "My head just hit the grass, you oaf!"

You push at his shoulder (gently) to make your point, making him spill af few drops of wine, "Hey, watch it! This is a perfectly balanced red!"

You glare at him, his scarlet eyes searching your face in confusion, "Astarion!"

"What?!" He exclaims, looking utterly confused as he looks between you and the others, "What is it?"

"You made my head hit the ground when you moved, you doofus!" You exclaim in exasperation, scooting closer to him to get back to your former position, your lips forming a pout, "Apologize."

That makes him frown instantly as if the notion of apologizing is obscene, his nose wrinkling as he glances down at the blanket, "What are you talking about, I didn't even move?"

"Yes you did!" You exclaim, and Karlach chimes in with a "Yeah, you did," which makes you look at him pointedly.

Astarion's expression only gets more confused, but he glances at the others who look equally confused yet entertained by whatever is happening between the two of you right now.

You let out a dramatic sigh, sitting up to point at your former spot, "We were over here, now you're over here. See? You always do this."

"Do what?" He asks in annoyance, "I don't even remember moving."

"I know," you quip, grabbing his glass of wine out of his hand to take a sip, "But you always do it. As soon as the sun moves, you do too."

He blinks in surprise, and the others around you snicker in response.

"What do you mean?"

"You move with the sun, vampy," you jest, cupping his confused face in your hands, "And normally it's real cute, but not when I'm using you as a pillow. Got it?"

His eyes search yours, his lips lifting slightly at your teasing expression, but he looks a little embarrassed when he asks, "I move with the sun?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, ruffling his hair and making him sputter in protest, "Whenever the sun moves so you're no longer in it's direct path, you move to wherever you need to in order to get back in it. It's very cute, all things considered, but it's not very practical when I need to use your milky thighs for resting. Okay?"

He pushes your hands off at your little comment, making the others chuckle, and instead he reaches up to curls his hand around the back of your neck. He smirks, clearly embarrassed and a little flustered but trying to hide it as he pulls you closer, "All right, I think we all got it. I move with the sun."

"Yep," you quip, "Just like a kitty cat."

His eyes narrow as the others laugh, and then the two of you have a staring contest, each refusing to back down. Your smile turns wider, enjoying the teasing banter between the two of you, your previous gripe already forgotten.

"Are you calling me a cat, darling?" He asks, his voice lowered, "Is that what I am to you?"

"Yes, just a cute kitty. Like Halsin!" You muse, glancing over at the wood elf. Astarions eyes dart over to look at him momentarily, and you can tell he gets even more flustered when the large elf only smiles back at him.

"You hear that, Astarion? Guess we have more in common than we thought."

[generic-sonic-fan]

The concept of Punk Omega won't leave my mind.

He showed up to a local punk show in the back of a run-down dive bar one day because he heard it was going to be "violent". People did a double take at him (which is normal) but what was strange is that they left him alone after. They didn't protest to him being there, didn't panic, didn't run or complain or object like the "good people" of the nicer parts of town. The screeching guitars and thumping percussion were both things he could feel beneath his plating. And seeing people in the mosh pit, seeing the way they let themselves be angry and physical in a way he'd never seen meatbags act before, left a really big impression on him.

Omega hates going to the big box stores of suburbia and the "cleaned up" downtown of his city, but you'll catch him wandering down the back alleys of the rough districts. People don't stare at him here at all anymore. And if anyone does have a problem with him, it's socially acceptable here to brandish his weapons and tell them to fuck off.

Shadow and Rouge only find out about this when they try to make plans to scout for more Eggman bases, only for Omega to say "I AM BUSY TONIGHT, LET'S RESCHEDULE." Upon Rouge asking what on this good green planet could possibly get Omega to delay the destruction of more Eggman robots, Omega answers "THE DEATHSKULL SPLITTERS ARE HAVING THEIR ANNIVERSARY CONCERT. I CAN DESTROY BADNIKS ANY DAY OF THE WEEK; THIS SHOW IS ONLY TONIGHT".

(They go with him and have a fantastic time. For Christmas that year they get him a custom jean vest with patches of all his favorite local bands sewn on.)

[sky-is-the-limit]

Captain Price and Commander Graves fighting for your attention would consist of:

(Reader is part of TF141 and only has a professional relationship with both. On the outside at least.)

Explicit part 2 here

➳ Price having to hastily leave the room whenever Graves would so blatantly hit on you by either complimenting your shooting skills or devouring you whole with his gaze so he wouldn't remove Grave's head from his neck.

➳ Graves daydreaming about Price getting blown off whenever you'd call him 'Captain' or look at him with those puppy eyes awaiting for a command and Price staring at your lips for way too long.

➳ Price purposely pairing you up with him so you wouldn't have to be the one to go with Graves and his Shadows (plus a lot of whining from Soap cause he'd always have to do the dirty job.)

➳ Gaz would have to physically remove Price from the meeting room when Graves wouldn't agree on moving forward with the mission unless he had you on the team.

➳ Graves insisting loudly on you joining the Shadow Company after this mission cause he'd be a much better boss and he'd take such a good care of you under his command, a thousand filthy words hiding behind that everlasting smirk on his face.

➳ Price trying to hide his smile whenever you'd tell Graves to fuck off cause your team, especially your boss are just fine and you're good where you are.

➳ Price taking advantage of how comfortable and safe you feel with him with gentle touches, even better if Graves would be there to watch, touching your shoulder, fixing something on your uniform, lingering his fingertips a bit too long whenever handing you something.

➳ Graves biting back by making you laugh, telling you the stupidest jokes quietly enough so no one else would hear just to watch your cold exterior towards him crumble, earning a giggle from your lips before you replace it with your usual annoyed expression towards him.

➳ Price ordering you to do little things outside of the mission just to prove how obedient and eager you are to follow his every command with your usual, playful "Yes, Captain" or "Right away, sir" with a tone that revealed your obvious favoritism and Price having to excuse himself way too early for 'bed' cause that's all he could think about.

➳ Graves feeling so jealous he would unfortunately take it out on his Shadows, wishing you were calling him your Commander instead. One time, it accidentally fell from your lips while you had to pair up with them and Price wasn't present, and he almost finished in his pants.

➳ Price accidentally letting his calm composure slip and mumbling a soft "Don't leave." Wanting to add a silent 'me' at the end but then quickly realising how frustrating it was that Graves proposal got under his skin even though he knows how loyal to him you are. "Don't leave the task force, Y/L/N. We need you here."

➳ Graves following you outside in the beautiful quiet of the night, only the stars and the cool breeze accompanying you as you both sat in silence on the ground. He would let his guard down a bit, telling you all about the starry night sky back in his hometown in the US and how you'd love to see it, indirectly asking you to.

➳ Price bringing you coffee late in the armory while you'd be cleaning your weapon, sitting down next to you with his warm tea in hand. Just your presence would be enough to calm the thousand waves crushing in his mind.

➳ Graves would definitely become a stalker accidentally, trying to catch you alone cause whenever you'd be around your task force or Price, you wouldn't pay him much attention. "Running away from me, soldier?" He'd corner you against a surface, gaze intimidating like a predator about to devour his prey.

If you were to reply with his title like "Why would you think that, Commander?" He'd probably forget where the two of you were and press you up against the nearest wall.

➳ Price would notice you easing up for Graves and would take matters into his own hands, asking you straight away if there was something going on between the two of you and telling you how unprofessional it was, jealousy so very visible on his face.

"Are you jealous, Captain?" Your tone playful and unserious like always. He'd finally do something bolder, frustration catching up to him like a wildfire. "What if I am, Y/N?" He'd throw his cigar on the floor, eyes never leaving yours before closing in so the remaining smoke would hit your face along with the realisation.

"Do something about it then." And so he would.

➳ Graves would intentionally let slip something about yourself that you have told him on your little private midnight walks in front of Price, to let him know that the coldness you display is in fact only for show and that he knows more about you on a personal level.

➳ Price would have to take a step outside before doing something he'd regret, cursing the universe and Shepherd for bringing this asshole into his path to steal you away from him before his racing thoughts would get interrupted by the very person he despised the most.

"We're both grown men here, Price. Oh, and you know what they say. Sharing is caring."

What Graves would imply made him look even more dangerous in Price's eyes. Either let the better man win your affections or have them both share you so you wouldn't have to choose, even at the same time:).

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! In celebration of the Ithaca saga release (and yes, I am still sobbing over that ending), here's an Epic au that's been rolling around my head for far too long! Enjoy!

In a few mythology stories, there is a theme of "if you kill a monster, you become a monster yourself." And, with the theme of Odysseus abandoning his humanity and becoming a monster being so prevalent in the second act, why not take it one step further?

What if, when Odysseus nearly killed Poseidon with his own godly weapon, some of that divine power found its way into Odysseus? What if the combined power of wielding the trident and the act of defeating a god and spilling his ichor ascended Odysseus unwillingly into godhood?

And, given what Odysseus was doing when he attained godhood, what of Odysseus specifically became the god of monsters?

By the time Odysseus has finished mutilating Poseidon and sails the short distance to Ithaca's shores, the ascension is already almost complete, despite Odysseus's resistance to it. When Odysseus finally sets foot on Ithaca's beach, he is no longer human at all. He is, in many ways, no longer himself.

Sure, he looks human enough at first glance, but his shadow writhes with twisting, monstrous forms, and his form blurs around the edges if one looks for long enough, as if he had to put conscious effort into appearing human.

It takes all of Odysseus's concentration to both keep himself looking human and to put one foot in front of the other, determined to ensure that the first time his family sees him again, they see him, not some monster.

But then, Odysseus finds the suitors. He hears Antinous speaking of killing his son and doing vile things to his wife, and suddenly, Odysseus doesn't feel like holding back the writhing, howling beasts under his skin anymore. No, no, he is going to revel in releasing them on these dogs.

Odysseus, still unseen by the suitors, lets his mortal disguise disappear in an instant, and a horrible roar has the suitors all stiffening with primordial terror, their minds frozen at the sight of something that their instincts screamed was a predator, unlike anything they had seen before.

The beast that they now beheld, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere, was horrific, with its body shifting and changing between all manner of monsters. One moment it was a hydra, then in the next it was a minotaur, and then it took the form of a chimera. The suitors watched in grotesque horror for a few seconds as the beast's body could not decide on a shape, its head and eyes and limbs always shifting, before the monster took a step towards them, its clawed foot shaking the ground.

At that, the suitors suddenly realized that this was real and that they were in a room with this creature. And then, all hell broke loose as the 108 suitors screamed with terror and scrambled away from the monster in all directions.

Then, the hunt began.

The monster chased them down the long hallways of the palace, killing any suitor it got its hands on. Some were shredded by its claws, others trampled under its feet like bugs, and some were even devoured with a single bite of its jaws. And all the while, The beast showed no mercy, no remorse, and no signs of that its bloodlust was even remotely slaked.

One suitor, when cornered by the beast, got on his knees and begged for mercy, only to be crushed with one swipe of a club that had manifested itself from the beast's body, which now took the shape of a savage cyclops.

Soon, blood painted the walls and floor of the palace, while the surviving suitors armed themselves for battle. After all, it was impossible to flee from the beast, so their only chance was to fight it.

However, at the armory, Telemachus appeared, back from his diplomatic mission and demanding to know what was happening, asking the suitors about the beast. Then, Antinous, one of the only surviving suitors, got an idea.

He ordered the others suitors to hold Telemachus down and tie him up as he explained his plan. They could still go through with their previous plot if they played this well enough.

After all, the beast out there was clearly either a punishment sent by the gods or a god in of itself. And the only way to appease a god was through an offering or sacrifice.

So, the suitors could present the bound prince to the beast as a sacrifice, which would appease the gods. After all, a blood sacrifice of a royal held great significance.

And when Penelope was mourning her poor, sacrificed son, Antinous and his men would be hailed as heroes by all of Ithaca for appeasing the monster, and Penelope would have no choice but to wed one of them.

Telemachus was screaming with rage and fear behind his makeshift gag as Antinous finished explaining his plan to the other suitors, who enthusiastically agreed to it.

Together, the suitors dragged Telemachus, his limbs bound with rope, out into the hallway, where it took the monster only a matter of seconds to find them.

Telemachus' eyes widened with shock at the sight of the monster, with its ever-changing limbs and body. The only constant feature on the beast was its ferocious glowing red eyes, which chilled the prince to the bone.

Antinous kicked Telemachus forwards towards the beast, sending him sprawling out over the floor.

"Great beast! We know not why you are here, but we humbly apologize for whatever wrong this kingdom has done to you! Please, accept this honored sacrifice: Telemachus, the prince of this land, and leave us in peace."

The monster, for the first time since it appeared, stood still, though its form still shifted fluidly. The suitors watched with baited breath as the beast ever so slowly inched forwards, towards a squirming and terrified Telemachus.

As the creature got closer, however, its form stopped changing as much, until its seemed to stabilize, taking on the shape of a giant human figure, but its body and face were featureless, simply a mass of shadows, except for its ever-present red eyes.

The now human-shaped monster picked Telemachus up in of of its hands slowly, handling him far gentler than it had any of the suitors. On the ground, Antinous and his men watched on in barely-contained excitement, overjoyed that everything was going as planned.

"I take it that you accept and are appeased by this sacrifice, great one?" Antinous, ever confident, spoke up.

The beast was still silent, giving no indication that it even heard Antinous, with all of its attention still focused on Telemachus, who was convinced that this was the end for him.

Gingerly, the creature rearranged its hold on Telemachus, until it was cradling him in its arms as a human would with an infant. The suitors look on in confusion, unsure what to make of this. What kind of monster cradled its sacrifice? Why wasn't it mindlessly slaughtering the prince just as it had the other suitors?

Then, the creature's gaze shifted from Telemachus to the suitors, filling them with an instinctive fear that told them to run. But before they could even take a step, a massive serpent's head shot out of the creature's chest, devouring all of them in a single bite. Telemachus, still bound and gagged, screamed with terror at the sight of it.

The beast, with Telemachus still trapped in its arms, started lumbering its way through the halls again, swiftly killing any remaining suitors it came across while the prince shook with terror in its arms.

After a while, the beast had finally killed the last of the suitors, leaving a trail of mutilated corpses and blood throughout the entire palace. There would be no one left inside the palace except for Telemachus and... his mother.

Telemachus came to this horrifying realization as he recognized exactly where the monster was heading. It was going to his mother's room, and the reinforced door would not protect her from this creature.

Telemachus renewed his struggles against his bindings, begging as best he could from behind the gag, "not her, please, not her!"

But the beast, of course, did not listen, and continued its path of destruction until it reached Penelope's door, still carrying the furiously squirming prince in its arms.

The doors, reinforced with bronze, did not stand a chance against the monster's strength, and Telemachus was forced to watch on in horror as his mother screamed at the sight of the beast, and he could do nothing as the monster grabbed ahold of her with a gigantic hand.

Telemachus had felt helpless and useless many times over the years as suitors invaded their home and disrespected his mother, but that was nothing compared to the sheer hopelessness and terror of seeing his mother struggling in the grasp of this monster and being unable to even move.

Now that Penelope was in his grasp, the monster slowly, almost gingerly, made his way to the throne room, trampling the scattered and bloodied corpses of the suitors that were in his path.

There, in the middle of the throne room, the beast finally sat down, halting its rampage through the halls of the palace at long last. Penelope and Telemachus, still trapped in the monster's arms, held each other as close as they could, trembling with fear at the massive, gore-covered monster that held their lives quite literally in its merciless hands.

(But little did they know that, as the hours went by, the monster would slowly shrink, diminishing in size, until it revealed a man, a very familiar man, underneath it all. And that man would like nothing more than to hold his family close for as long as he can.)

And that's all for this story! I might do a continuation if the inspiration strikes! Please let me know if you'd like to see a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[jasmines-library]

👀 'tis me, i loved the other one so much ❤️❤️❤️, and am back with this wAcky idea muahahaaa:

batboy (you choose) x villain!reader

they are supposed to hate each other because of circumstances (you choose) BUT they got caught in a fight and are working together. after that fight, batboy finds that reader is actually a HUGE softie, and has never really had relationships, and when batboy does find out, he teases reader to embarrassment. they end up falling in love they kiss and fluffy things, under the moonlight, but then reader goes spiraling. like- is it safe to do this? is it okay to show weakness like that? will they put batboy in danger? and they are on the verge of a panic attack. they run away from batboy, which breaks both of them 🥹. reader avoids batboy for months, not really coping with their feelings, having panic attacks every night and all. and then one night, batboy sees reader fighting in an alley. reader takes out the thugs quickly and batboy approaches, and he can see through reader's eyes a whirlwind of emotions and it breaks his heart... and then they somehow make up and a lot of fluff pleeasee <3 (omg it's not totally angst 🥹)

ilyyy muah! (platonic ofc 😘)

Bullet With Butterfly Wings

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: This is so cute! I love this idea and I hope you like it. I just wanted to make a side note and say that i am queer, and whilst I am very happy to write romantically for the batboys, It may not be super great (which is why most of my work is platonic tbh) so apologies in advance for that. I also chose to write for Jay so I hope that's okay!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Minor injuries, self doubt, manipulative parent (bane) but only brief, swearing teasing, kissing but no smut (SFW)

Word Count: 5k (it took me 40 years but it was worth it)

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Jason Todd was your enemy.

That is what you have always been told. It had been ingrained in you since you were very young. Batman and his band of proteges were a nuisance. Bothers. Vermin that needed to be exterminated from Gotham. Your father had countless rivalries: and that had extended to you. Your whole life was dedicated to training to cause havoc and trying to remove Gothams vigilantes.

Jason Todd was your enemy. And you despised him. He despised you too. Not that you cared, he had every right to. Your father had broken his many times.

He had always been tricky. He slunk around the shadows and always put a stop to your fun. His brothers weren’t much better. So when he was killed… you should have been ecstatic. You should have clenched your fists in rage when he returned…but instead you felt…lost.

Jason Todd was your enemy. So why were you helping him…?

You had heard the commotion from nearly a block over. The cacophony of shattering glass, the ricochet of bullets followed by the screeching of the building's alarm: you were over there speedily, tugging your pistols from your holsters as you weaved towards the orange glow of the flickering lights.

The building was completely destroyed. The windows were smashed in, spidering where the bullets had passed through them or jagged where what looked like a brick had been lobbed into it. The frames of the windows were completely broken too, splintering under the brute force of the coloured bandits that had weasled their way inside. Dressed in unsubtle colours, they seemed to be searching for something; they overturned desks and sent an array of papers scattering to the ground. It was that or they were just looking to have fun. You smirked, taking a step closer to the building ready to join them but then you caught a flash of the triangular emblem they had haphazardly spray painted on the back of their jackets and cursed. Safe to say that they weren’t going to tolerate you being near them. Your father had royally pissed them off. More than once. But who were you to back down from a fight?

Shouldering your weapons, you stepped closer crouching to try and keep out of their sight. It was going to be much easier for you if you could take them by surprise. Much more entertaining for you too. Though it seemed that luck wasn’t on your side because one of them, a tall girl with blonde hair she had tied back in a braid, turned her head just before you could dash out of the way and with a cry of your alias, all heads turned to you.

There was no use hiding now your cover was blown so with your guns raised high you aimed and fired. They were quick to retaliate and with their the sheer number of them it was difficult to predict their movements and stay out of their line of fire despite all of your training. The whole ordeal was a mess, bullets and punches flew left, right and centre. The whole ordeal only got a fuck ton more complicated when he arrived. The knight in fucking black and red armour. He perched on top of the roof, teetering dangerously to the edge, before landing on his feet only a few metres away, no doubt with a smug grin hidden behind his red mask. It didn’t do him much good. You knew exactly who he was and it hadn’t taken you much to figure it out. But perhaps that was because you were much more perceptive than most. Perhaps it was because you spent far too much time thinking about him.

Red Hood stood towering over you, glaring at you through his brows. He tutted. “Y/N Bane. Should have known you would be here.”

“And miss the chance to beat your pretty face?” You mocked. “You should know better.”

Red Hood rolled his eyes, shifting his weight as he reached for his weapon. He looked as though he was going to say something; another jest or sly remark, but the moment was ruined when one of the bandits ran up behind him bearing a weapon he intended to plunge into the vigilantes side. However he was much quicker, twisting around to grab the boy by his wrists and flinging him over his shoulder. He landed with a grunt before trying to grab at Red Hood's legs. You beat him to it though, landing a harsh blow to his back and sending him slumping back to the ground.

That seemed to set the rest of them off and all of a sudden the pair of you were surrounded. The street quickly became a flurry of punches and rounds of bullets that lodged themselves in the crackstone bricks or ricocheted off of the metal pipes with a cloud clang. None of them found their mark. Strange for a group of people who wielded their weapons so confidently.

It seemed to be going well. Some sort of unseen rivalry seemed to bloom between you and Red Hood, trying to see who could take the most thugs down. Those that didn’t flee dropped like flies. But you were outnumbered. And even though the pair of you were twice as skilled as them combined, you began to find it difficult to push them back.

Darting into the building to shelter from their hail of bullets, you managed to take down the pair that were hurtling things at Hood. And then it all fell silent.

Exhaling heavily, you wiped the sweat from your brow and holstered your weapons after checking the coast was clear. Smirking, you slid out of the doorway ready to jest to the vigilante. But he seemed to be nowhere to be seen. You rolled your eyes. Coward.

“Given up already?” You jested. “Honestly for a man of your size it thought that you would last a lot longer than-”

Your stomach sank when you turned the corner and saw the vigilante hunched up against the wall, his one hand pressed firmly into the wall, the other pushing hard up against his right side. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath, his back still turned away from you. You furrowed your brow, taking a hesitant step toward him. It was then that you noticed the crimson that oozed between his fingers.

“Here to finish me off?” He spat, words laced with a thick and potent venom.

“I’m thinking about it.”

He turned toward you, his body jolting in agony as he twisted. From there you could see the two small but ragged circles that jutted out from his suit; one above his left hip and the other a few inches to the right of it. Only one of them seemed to have an exit wound.

“Get on with it then.” He grumbled trying to keep his composure. You could see the way his legs trembled as he tried to keep his composure. “They’re not coming any time soon.” He gestured to his coms. The screen was blank. Broken. “Comms are down.” his voice was torn up by a sickening cough. “But I'd get it over with quickly so you can leave before they catch your trail.”

Your fingers twitched as you reached for your pistol. Instinct. You should finish him off. It would make your father proud. It would end your years of resentment and it would bring you oh so much glorious fame. He was already practically cowering on the ground; an easy kill. Jason Todd was your enemy. You should have pulled the trigger. But instead, you found yourself darting forward as Jason as his body careened forwards.

~

When Jason awoke, he did so in a panic. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded in his chest. It was only when he tried to push himself up and was met by a sudden pinch in his side that everything came back to him. He didn’t recognise his surroundings. The walls were decorated in artwork that he didn’t recognise, and he was laying in a bed with streets that belonged to a stranger. He scrambled for his pistols only to realise that they weren’t there. And that his mask had been removed.

“Lay back down, you idiot.” You scolded from across the room. “Your wounds are still healing, And relax.” You gestured to his mask and the top half of his suit that you had folded up and laid on a chair. It was then that he realised that he was not wearing his shirt and that the eternity of his torso was wrapped securely in bandages. “I knew who you were.”

Jason had to do a double take. But he soon turned sour. “What the fuck am I doing here?”

You scoffed, placing the glass of water you had brought in on the bedside table. “A thank you would be nice.”

“I’m serious” he narrowed his eyes on you.

You faltered, eyeing him cautiously and pursing your lips. Truthfully, you had struggled to get him back to your apartment. You had to move fast with the amount of blood he had lost. You were glad that he lost consciousness when he did because although you should have left him there to rot… you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him writhe beneath you as you dug a pair of tweezers under his skin to dig out the bullet.

The vigilante eyed you cautiously, still confused as to why you had decided to drag him all the way back here. It couldn’t have been easy for you. He watched as you dug around in one of the draws in your bedroom. He had never seen you properly without your suit on. And he could fully see your face now it wasn’t obscured by the black and white mask that sat comfortably around your eyes. Jason stared for a little too long and found his thoughts wandering a little too far for his liking. He was supposed to loathe you. He was supposed to think you were vile. But yet again…you were the furthest thing from what he had convinced himself to believe.

“You’re staring.” You could feel his eyes on you.

Jason’s cheeks flushed and he turned his gaze away. Rolling your eyes you tossed him a bottle of painkillers that you had pulled out of the mess of your draw. They rattled as they hit the side of the plastic container when he caught them.

“Take some of those. They should help with the ache.

He gave you an unamused look, hand hovering on the seal.

“Relax, bird boy. If I wanted you dead you would be.”

Jason popped two in his mouth hesitantly and swallowed them down with the water you had left on the side. A loud buzzing sounded from out of the room. You disappeared briefly out of the doorway. Not being able to see you made him nervous, but you returned soon with two items in your hand. The first, his phone and the source of the incessant buzzing, and the second his comlink which was no longer dark like it was before but instead was lit up around the crack on the screen. You handed the two to him.

“You might want to let them know that you’re alive. That damn thing’s been going off all night.” You told him.

“You fixed it.” Jason gawped, turning the small device over in his hands.

You shrugged. “Had to make sure the GPS was off. Besides, I had nothing better to do.”

After sending a quick message to reassure his family that he was alive, Jason frowned at you. “Why are you helping me?”

You faltered. Why were you helping him? It went completely against everything you had been taught. But you hadn’t really thought much about what you were doing. It was like your body was on autopilot, moving without thought of feeling and just following someone’s orders blindly. You shrugged at him. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

Jason practically laughed. “But doesn’t that go against your entire image?”

“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Todd.”

The vigilante smirked, the corners of his lips creeping upward. Snarky. He liked you. “Then perhaps I should get to know you more.”

~

No matter how hard he tried, Jason couldn’t take his mind off you. Even once he had long returned home, he couldn’t get the image of your face out of his thoughts. There was something about you that was just so enthralling to him. And that bothered him greatly. His hours passed by quickly as he thought of you. What you had done. And god he was so conflicted. But the part of him that seemed to want to inch closer to you won.

After struggling to pull on his hoodie, no thanks to the dull ache that still emimated from his wounds, he slipped on his shoes and trudged down the stairs. He was just about to slip out of the door when a voice stopped him.

“Jay?” Dick asked, scowling at his brother. “Where are you going?”

“Out?”

“Again? You’ve only just got back after completely wiping off the radar and now you’re sneaking off?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

Dick cocked his brow.

The younger Wayne sighed and with a roll of his eyes told him defensively “It’s nothing, Grayson.”

Jason slipped out of the door.

Even though he had only been there once, Jason seemed to practically have the route to your apartment engraved in his mind. After all, he had walked in over and over again in his head as he thought about returning to see you. Although he was confident on how to get there, when he stood in front of the door with his fist poised to rap against the panel, a very rare occurrence happened to Jason. He was nervous. His stomach fluttered and churned underneath the bandages and then the door flew open.

And there you stood. You looked more awake than before. Perhaps because you had actually managed to get some sleep since he had left. It had been a well needed rest. The ache in your bones from the previous night had nearly vanished once you awoke. However, similarly to the vigilante, when you awoke you too had found your mind wandering back to the boy you had dragged back into your home.

There he was. Standing in your doorway.

“Todd?” You darkened your brow. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to get to know you.”

Gripping his wrist you pulled him inside and shut the door behind you.

~

You and Jason had grown close very quickly. After he had slunk up to your apartment, the pair of you exchanged numbers. This led to many rendezvous and you began to actually enjoy spending time with him. He was an intricate person. He had so many layers to him, each one more interesting than the next. He had also discovered that there was much more to you than your facade let on. You were kind, funny, and deeply compassionate despite your history. It was ironic really. But that made Jason love you even more. He loved the way you smiled with your eyes and the way they lit up when you saw something you adored. He loved the curves of your cheekbones, your nose, your jawline and your figure. He had grown to love your laugh and the way your voice softened when you were tired. He loved all of you. But he wasn’t sure if you so much as even liked him back.

It would be a complete lie to say didn’t. Slowly, the pair of you began to open up to each other. You knew little about his past and hearing him open up about it brought tears to your eyes. That was the first time that you had hugged him. Wrapping him up in your arms seemed to come almost naturally and despite the fact that Jason wasn’t a huge people person, he found himself leaning into your embrace. The two of you began to learn things about each other very quickly. You would tell him something and he would exchange the favour. Countless hours were spent as the two of you messaged back and forth or lounged around on your couch as you talked over the movies you tried to watch but failed because you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him. He was smart and he was kind and it was nice to have someone to really open up to. You had never really had that before Jason. Of course, when he found out about that and your lack of relationships, he couldn’t help but tease you. He thought it was adorable the way that your cheeks flushed and you shrunk into yourself.

Tonight, you were sitting on a hillside. It was a little far out of the city, but Jay had insisted that it was going to be worth it. Reluctantly, but with a little grin, you had followed him up the small hill.

The view was truly magnificent. From here, you had a view of the entire city. You could see all of the lights flickering throughout the skyscrapers and the neon lights of the signs as they reflected off of the dark windows. But what was even more magical were the stars. They twinkled above you brighter than a thousand diamonds all at once. It made your breath catch in your throat. With all of the light pollution in Gotham, it was hard to see the stars. But out here you could see them in all of their beauty. So as you lay back in the grass, basking in the moonlight while Jay pointed out the constellations, you twisted your body to sit face him. He returned the motion, looking at you with gentle eyes and a smile touching his lips.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Jay.” You told him. “It truly is beautiful here.”

He nodded, speaking softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ve never seen so many stars.” You said, inching yourself up so that you were sitting. “Though I suppose that’s because I’ve never really been out of Gotham.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. This was something new. “No?”

You shook your head as he too sat up. “Never. My father never let me.”

This surprised the vigilante somewhat, but he remained silence and let you continue.

“He’s… protective. And somewhat controlling.” you trailed off. “I know he just wants me to follow in his footsteps but for my entire life I’ve been following his command blindly. It’s always what he wants. He’s never once stopped and thought about what I want.”

Jason reached out a delicate hand to brush away a stray hair, tucking it back behind your ear. “And what is it that you want?”

“This.” You breathed out.

Tenderly, he leaned forward to interlock his lips with yours. They were soft and gentle and he kissed you with a gentle amorous touch. His hands brushed the back of your hair, tangling in your locks as you returned the kiss, leaning into his touch.

~

Being with Jason was more than you could ever have imagined. It was a different kind of love. Something you had never really experienced before. It was filled with gentle exchanges of touches, reassurances of your love for each other, gifts and small trinkets that you would buy for each other when it reminded you of them and so so much more. With Jay, you could just be yourself and he loved you for it. There was no more trying to keep up a facade that perhaps was much more of an act influenced by your father than you thought it was. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You and Jay had been going out for a few months when it happened. You had returned home after a late night stroll with him to find your father sitting on your couch. He was angry, face contorting with dark lines when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Dad?” You asked, trying to hide the evidence of your outing from him. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t play coy with me.” He spat standing to tower above you. “I know exactly that’s going on with you and that little bird.”

He took a step forward, intending to intimidate you but you held your ground.

“How long did you think you could keep that hidden?”

“I don’t see what that’s any of your business.” You grit your teeth.

“I am your father. I made you who you are. Without me you would be nothing.” His words dripped with venom as he backed you into the wall.

“That’s exactly the point! You've never once stopped to consider what I want!”

Bane's face hardened and he leaned forward to speak to you in a scarily hushed tone and he gripped your wrists so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise later. “Now you listen here you insolent little girl. Either you stop running around with Bruce Wayne’s little protege or I will end him and I will make you watch. You understand.”

You didn’t meet his eyes. Instead you found a spot on the carpet to burn your gaze onto.

“I said, do you understand?” He raised his voice and you could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.

“Yes, Father.” You admitted with defeat. He released his firm grip.

“Good.” Bane moved back towards the door. “Because I mean it.”

Without another word he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

You crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with sobs that forced their way out from your ragged gasps.

And then your phone buzzed. His name displayed brightly on the screen.

Jason: Hey baby. D’you get in okay?

It was one of his usual messages. He sent them often when he couldn’t walk you back to your door. Sometimes even when he had walked you back and made sure you got inside with a parting kiss. You couldn’t blame him for being cautious. You had seen eachother fretting for the other when you came home with injuries. It was normal for Jason. But now it felt so wrong.

Opening the message your fingers hesitated over the keypad as you thought about your fathers warning. Was he right? Were you putting Jay at risk. Would it just be better if you. No. You tried to clear the thought from your mind.

You: Fine. Sorry for keeping you waiting.

You replied, waiting for the small bubble to finish typing.

Jason: you sure you’re okay baby?

You: of course. Why wouldn’t I be?

Jason: No reason. I just had this feeling.

You: Oh? Well I’m fine I promise. Night Jay.

You were in fact, not fine.

~

The next time you saw Jason your heart was racing. And not in the good way. In the “I think I’m going to hurl” way.

You had been thinking about him nonstop. About how much joy he brought you. How you could never fathom leaving him. But Bane's words kept replaying in your head. Seeing him had brought a part of your old self back. The part that you had long since tried to move past. Was being with Jason making you weak? You had told him so much that it felt as if he knew you inside and out. Was it okay to show vulnerability to him like that? You had been thinking a million thoughts at once. But the one that stuck out most to you was ‘am I putting Jason in danger?’ Would your selfishness of wanting to be with him cost him his life. You had tried to tell yourself that you were being silly. That Jason could handle himself. He was the infamous Red Hood. But you knew Jay. And you knew Bane. So you knew that if he put his mind to it, Jason Todd would die.

And that was why you needed to leave.

When Jason arrived he greeted you with a bright grin that only made your stomach sink deeper into your abyss of guilt. You took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremble of your body and the tears in your eyes. You could not bring yourself to return his mannerisms.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He frowned as he approached you.

“Jay…. I-I” your voice caught in your throat: a reminder of how little you wanted this to happen. But you had to. For his sake “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jason’s face dropped. “W-what?”

You honestly don’t think you had ever seen him look more hurt. Another wound to add to the collection.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You gestured between the two of you. “ I love you, Jason. But I can’t carry on being with you.”

You took a step back and Jason reached out to try and touch you but stopped, cutting himself off short. “Y/N what’s happened? Please tell me baby. What have I done wrong?”

“Nothing, Jay.” You shook your head, blinking away the tears that fell. “That’s the worst part. Nothing at all.”

~

You avoided Jason Todd like the plague after that. No matter how much you mourned his face and playful smile. His flurries of texts and calls went unanswered until they slowly thinned out. Never stopping, but as the summer turned to autumn, there were less and less of them.

You could tell it broke him as much as it broke you.

You hardly left the house after that fateful day. Everything seemed to remind you of him and his stupid voice. You didn’t want to run the risk of seeing him because you knew the second you did you would break down again completely.

Your father stopped by occasionally. He would tell you that he was proud of you but you knew he was just trying to manipulate you back into his little copy of himself. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t go back there, but after a short while you grew desperate. Perhaps it was because you had grown bored of staring at the same blank spot in the wall and the empty space on your bed, or perhaps it was because you secretly hoped that you would catch a glimpse of that infamous red suit.

It seemed that your wishes do come true.

You heard the fighting from around the corner. The cacophony of fists finding their marks. When you rounded the corner you saw him. The red of his suit outlined by the dark of the black to contrast. Your first thought was to run. To bolt back down the alleyway. But you weren’t a coward. You had had enough of hiding. You longed to see him and this was your chance. Red Hood was loosing.

With one swift action, you leaped towards the thugs grabbing one and sending her careening towards the ground. Red Hood had to do a double take when he saw the flash of your suit in the light. But there was no doubt that it was you. After months you had appeared.

Motivated by you appearance it didn’t take long of the two of you to take out the thugs. And when the last one dropped to the ground. Your first thought was to run. But then he said your name and you were glued in place. God you had longed to hear that voice.

“Y/N? Y/N please look at me” you had never heard so much softness in Jason’s voice before. He too was scared.

He was right behind you. Close enough to touch. You could sense him. His hands itching to reach out and gather you up in his arms.

Slowly you turned around to face him and your gaze met his for the first time in months. And his heart wanted to break. Jason had always been good at reading people, but he could see the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your gaze.

“I'm sorry.” You blurted out.

Jay hummed. Although he would never admit how much he had hurt during your absence, he had a feeling that you weren’t not thinking properly and had likely been influenced by someone else. The fear in your eyes confirmed his suspicions. “I know.” Jason wanted to reach out and snatch you up to pull into his embrace. “I know it was your father.”

You felt as if the whole world had been lifted off of your chest when he breathed out those words.

“Truly, I didn’t want to do it, Jay. But he threatened to- I couldn’t let him hurt you.” Your voice broke and your lips trembled as your eye filled with tears. And that was the final straw for the vigilante. He took another step forward and wrapped you up in a tight hug. He had missed you so much.

“Shh.” He hushed. “I forgive you.”

You sniffled looking up at him. “Really?”

“Of course I do.” He nodded, tucking your head under his chin. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too.” You muttered.

“So what do you say?” He asked. “You want to give this another go?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh darling, I would trade the world for one night with you.”

And with that, Jason Todd leaned down and kissed you once more.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS:

@hearts4robs

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@aestheticdasies

@mamapucket

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

side note in case it bothers anyone: I'm somewhat aware that Bane has a daughter canonically, which is sort of why I went with him. If you wanted to you could interpret this as the reader also being created in a lab, or being his biological daughter (how I imagined it) but it doesn't really matter. I also chose bane because I didn't want to go with the joker again, but this this also doesn't really matter as the reader kinda just becomes her own villain.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 15

You can read previous chapters here.

Summary: Y/n slowly begins to recover, gradually warming up to Azriel and Cassian again. She agrees to train with Cassian but only under a few conditions.

A/N: As promised, here’s the next chapter with more Az interaction. Enjoy!

WC: 4.8K.

As days went by, Y/n’s nightmares became less frequent. Cassian only spoke a few words to her whenever they crossed paths, mostly greetings, casual questions about her day, how she’s doing, and nothing more. No snarky comments, no mention of training.

She hadn’t seen Azriel for a while either. He was mostly on missions, ones she knew nothing about, and when he was back, he either stayed locked in his room or left just before she arrived.

Somehow, whenever she’d enter the dining room, she’d catch the lingering trail of shadows and find a half-empty plate or cup. He always seemed to know when she’d come and left before she could ignore him or say something to hurt him. It was almost like he was avoiding her just as much as she was avoiding him.

She began to miss him, and that was dangerous.

But at least her life had improved. She was eating again, going to the library, chatting with Gwyn occasionally, and knitting. Being left alone had softened her, just a little, though she wouldn't admit it to herself.

On one of those nights, she had finished a book that left her feeling content for once. The idea of sleep didn’t appeal to her yet, so she headed to the roof for some peace, fresh air, and a view of the slumbering city below.

She did not notice Azriel training in the corner of the roof at first. As usual he was as slick and silent as the shadows, his form blending into the dark. This time, his shadows did not inform him of her arrival. When he saw her, he moved slightly, making an accidental noise that earned her attention.

“I didn’t know you were back,” she remarked, her voice softer than usual, though her brows rose in faint surprise.

Azriel paused, lowering his weapon. “Only for the night.” His body remained tense, debating whether to leave to stay.

“Don’t you ever take a break?” she asked, stepping further into the open air.

“I do when I need one,” he answered simply.

“You’re going to work yourself to death.” Her gaze flicked over him, taking in the weariness etched into his features. “You look like hell. You should get some rest.”

It was her way of not being cold to him, and they both knew it.

Azriel tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t know you cared.” Though low, his tone carried a faint chill, guarded as ever.

“I- it was just a suggestion,” she clarified quickly, glancing away. “If whatever you’re doing is important, you need to take a step back and rest. If your head isn’t in the game, it’ll cost you a lot. And I know you don’t like to disappoint your High Lord.”

“I’ll rest when I feel the need to,” he insisted, his gaze lingering on her for a beat longer. Then he added, almost too softly. “Thank you for your advice.”

She didn’t know if he was being sincere or mocking her; his face betrayed nothing.

Y/n shifted on her feet, suddenly uncomfortable. Just as she turned to leave, she noticed his shadows sneaking toward her.

Her gaze followed them instinctively, and her lips quirked slightly. She had missed them too. Noticing his shadows and her focus, Azriel sighed before speaking again. “This had nothing to do with me. Sometimes they act on their own.”

“Relax, Shadowsinger. It’s fine,” she said quietly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

At that, his shoulders eased a fraction. He studied her for a moment, his hazel eyes searching her face. Something about her was different, her voice, her behavior towards him, the way she seemed healthier. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied lightly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her sleeve.

“How are things?” he asked, careful and hesitant, as though afraid she might retreat behind her usual defenses.

“Not bad,” she said simply, her gaze drifting out over the city.

“But not good?”

“I’m still a prisoner,” she quipped, a faint edge to her tone.

“Be glad you’re not one of my prisoners,” he countered, softening a bit with a faint smirk, attempting to joke.

“Right. I almost forgot. You’re supposed to be ruthless with all the torturing you do.” Her lips curved upward, though she bit her lower lip to suppress the full smile.

“I’m glad you remembered,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. His eyes glinted faintly in the dim light. “But even if you were the most wicked High Fae alive, I promise you’re safe from me.”

“Hmm, even if I became a witch?” she questioned, her voice playful.

“Are you planning on becoming one?” he asked, raising a brow.

“I am,” she teased, shrugging. “But I still need someone to teach me how to channel that much power.”

He didn’t know if she was being serious or joking. “Just give me a heads-up when you do.”

“Why? So you could lock me up?” She couldn’t hide her amused smile anymore.

“I told you, you’re safe from me,” he repeated firmly. “But Spymaster, remember? It wouldn’t be a good look for me if I were the last to know.”

“Fine,” she relented, amused. “If I become a witch, you’ll be the first one to know, I promise. Happy now?”

“Very,” he said, an actual smile, soft and rare pulling at his lips.

Her own faded, her chest tightening unexpectedly. She missed that smile. She missed him, their little talks. For a moment, her expression faltered.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, noticing the shift.

“Nothing,” she murmured. “I should go. I have a long day tomorrow, and so do you. Good night, Shadowsinger.”

Of course, she’d pull away, run away from him the minute she started feeling something. The minute she felt her walls cracking.

“Good night, Troublemaker,” he whispered, though she was already gone.

The next morning, Azriel was gone again. But Y/n found herself in a rare good mood. She’d finally decided to train with Cassian.

This time, she arrived at the training ring dressed in Illyrian leathers, though not the ones she’d worn during the war. She’d burned those custom-made leathers after the war, unable to even look at them without being reminded of all she’d lost. If they hadn’t been custom, she wasn’t sure she could handle seeing others wearing the standard ones.

Cassian, shirtless and already wielding a sword, stood in his usual spot. When he noticed her approach, his brows shot up in surprise. He didn’t want to get his hopes up yet, so he asked, “Here to watch, or to join?”

“I’ve come to play,” she replied, heading for the weapon rack.

His surprise turned into an amused chuckle. “We should practice your movements before you go anywhere near a sword.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid,” she quipped, ignoring his comment as her fingers skimmed over the handles of various blades before selecting the lightest one. If she was going to wield one in front of him for the first time, she wasn’t about to embarrass herself. She knew she needed to work on her arm strength, but she could manage for now.

Cassian grinned, his wings shifting slightly behind him. “It’s for your own safety, but go ahead.”

Sword in hand, Y/n dragged the blade slightly along the ground as she stepped up to him. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are,” he said with a confident smirk, lowering into a defensive stance.

She did not give him a chance to prepare. In one swift motion, she disarmed him, the tip of her blade hovering just below his throat.

Cassian blinked, then broke into a wide grin. “Impressive. Let’s go again. I wasn’t prepared.”

“I thought you said you were ‘whenever I was’,” she replied, feigning innocence as she shrugged.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have to admit, I was taken by surprise.”

“In battle, your opponent won’t wait for you to get ready. I might not be the strongest or the fastest, but if and when it comes down to a fight, I can hold my own,” she said, lowering the blade.

Cassian retrieved his sword, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful as he studied her. “I see you know some moves. Let’s go again.”

“I’m not a fool. I know I can’t defeat you,” she admitted. “I’ve seen the way you fight. I just took advantage of the situation.”

“Never underestimate your opponent,” Cassian said, his tone carrying a hint of respect. “I failed at that, I admit. Where did you learn to do that?”

She ran her fingers along the blade’s edge, inspecting it. “I took self-defense classes a long time ago. And a few sword-fighting lessons too. I practiced from time to time.”

His brows furrowed as he considered her answer. “Why did you let me mock you all this time? Let me believe you couldn’t fight?”

She gave him a cool look. “You never asked. You presumed, just like everyone else.”

His gaze softened, a note of guilt creeping into his voice. “I apologize for that.” His voice was surprisingly serious. “Does anyone else know you can fight?”

“A few Illyrians,” she replied,her tone casual as she inspected the hilt of the sword. “And I believe your Shadowsinger does.”

Cassian’s expression darkened slightly. “Is that why Devlon warned me to keep you away from his warriors? You beat them up?”

“I didn’t beat them up,” Y/n corrected, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just say they tried to show me some moves, and I showed them a few of my own.”

Cassian let out a hearty laugh, though his curiosity wasn’t fully satisfied. “Wait- your sisters don’t know?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“That is none of your business.”

He sighed but didn’t press. “So, why do you refuse to train then? If you know how to fight?” If he wasn’t intrigued before, he was now.

“That’s also none of your business.”

Cassian snorted, clearly exasperated. “If you hate me and can’t stand to train with me, you could always train with Az or Mor.”

“No.” Her reply was quick, sharp, leaving no room for debate. “Listen, I don’t hate you, but I just don’t like training.”

Cassian crossed his arms, his grin returning. “Is that you complimenting me?”

“You didn’t let me finish,” she shot back, rolling her eyes again. “Although I don’t necessarily hate you, training with you would be unbearable.”

“Is it because you wouldn’t be able to focus on training and rather be too distracted by my handsome face and impressive physique?” Cassian teased, flexing his arms playfully.

“In your dreams,” she retorted, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Engaging in conversation with you is frustrating enough. You’re just insufferable. You emanate this… bright aura around you. Your view on life is just-“

“Positive?” Cassian supplied, amused.

“Exactly.”

Cassian let out a bark of laughter. “How do you manage to turn every positive trait into a negative one?” He couldn’t fathom how her mind worked.

“The same way you turn negative ones into positives.”

“Why, though?” he pressed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“None of your business.”

“Is that your answer to everything, anyone asking you a personal question?”

“None- possibly..”

“I can already bet on the answer to this one, but why? Why don’t you want people to know you?”

“And that conversation has already been too much for my brain to handle in one day. I’m leaving.” She turned toward the door but halted, glancing back over her shoulder. “Because I’m in a good mood today, I’ll say something nice to you. Even though training with you would be unbearable, having your body on full display would make it slightly less unpleasant.” She shrugged.

Cassian froze, his expression caught somewhere between shock and delight. Then he grinned like a fool. “I’ll take that as a win.”

The next day, when Y/n arrived at the training ring again, Cassian was already there waiting for her, his arms crossed and a curious glint in his eyes. As she approached, he tilted his head, studying her. “So,” he began as she stopped a few paces away, “How do you want to do this?”

“First,” she said, holding up a finger, “I’ll only do basic muscle training. No sparring, no fighting exercises.”

“Why not?” he asked, feigning disappointment.

“I don’t like having an audience when I’m showing my moves.”

Cassian frowned, his brows drawing together. “Afraid someone will learn your fighting style and use it against you?”

“No,” she shot back, giving him an exasperated look. “I just don’t take well to certain kinds of criticism when it comes to this.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I won’t judge. If anything, I might offer some advice, but that’s it.”

“Still,” she said firmly, “I don’t feel ready for that yet.”

“Alright, basic exercises it is,” he agreed, though the curiosity in his eyes didn’t fade.

“Second,” she added, “I’d prefer it if we trained in silence.”

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “Way to kill the mood, Y/n.”

“Want me to train with you or not?” she countered, crossing her arms.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “We’ll do as you say.”

With that her training journey officially began.

The nights were different. While Cassian trained with her during the day, Y/n would sneak to the rooftop under the cover of darkness. There, with no eyes watching, she practiced her stances, her movements, and her sword work.

It was after a few nights of this routine that Azriel landed silently on the roof after a mission, only to be met with a sight he never expected to see. Azriel wasn’t surprised by many things, but when it came to Y/n, this female never ceased to catch him off guard. He came to find her focused, her attention wholly on the invisible target she struck with her sword.

Not wanting to disturb her or break her concentration, he remained quiet in the shadows.

After a few minutes, she stilled, her instincts sharpening. She could sense something lurking nearby. She reached for a dagger and, without hesitation, flung it towards the shadows. Azriel dodged by mere inches, stepping out into the faint light with his hands raised in surrender.

“It’s just me,” he said calmly, his tone steady as his golden eyes met hers.

Her shoulders relaxed, though her tone remained sharp. “I thought I made it clear I don’t like being watched.”

“I remember,” he replied. “It wasn’t intentional. I just arrived and didn’t want to interrupt. You seemed… focused.”

Y/n eyed him suspiciously but let it slide. “I’ll let it go this time.”

Azriel’s lips twitched faintly, almost teasing. “I didn’t know you could wield a sword.”

“I’m not a professional, if that’s what you think,” she admitted, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “But I thought you already knew. You made it seem that way when you asked me about the Illyrians.”

“I thought you used your fists,” Azriel replied smoothly. “And your legs.”

“You’re not wrong,” she replied with a small smirk. “Do your shadows really know all that?”

“And more,” he said, a subtle smile playing at his lips.

Y/n tilted her head. “Then, with all your knowledge, I assume a lot of people want you dead?”

“You assume correctly,” Azriel said in his naturally quiet tone, a hint of amusement threading through it.

Silence lingered between them before he gestured to her sword. “Can I give you a suggestion?”

“About what exactly?”

He stepped closer, his movements deliberate. “May I?” he asked, nodding toward the weapon in her hand.

After a brief hesitation, she nodded, handing him the sword. His fingers grazed hers as he took it, the fleeting contact sending an odd jolt up her arms. The shadows around him seemed to still, as if observing.

“You’re holding it like this,” he said softly, his hands steady as they demonstrated her current grip along the hilt. “It’s not wrong, but there’s an easier way to balance the weight without tiring your arms.” His movements were fluid, sure, as he adjusted his hold, showcasing a more efficient grip with ease.

When he handed the sword back to her, his scarred fingers brushed hers once more, the touch lingering just a moment too long. The shadows curled subtly between them, as though curious about the interaction.

“Do you want to give it a try?” he asked, stepping back.

“With you watching?” she muttered, hesitating.

Azriel’ tilted his head, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Yes. Is that a problem? I can leave if you’d prefer.”

“Yes, no-” Y/n stammered, quickly shaking her head. “I just… I never train in front of anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Your brother asked me the same question a few days ago,” she replied, her tone guarded.

“And what did you tell him?”

“That I don’t like being criticized when it comes down to this.”

Azriel studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. “But that’s not all, is it?”

She didn’t reply, her grip tightening on the sword as she started at the ground. After a moment, she shook her head.

“I won’t ask again,” he said gently. “Not unless you want to talk about it.”

She looked down at the sword, grateful he didn’t push.

“So,” Azriel continued, breaking the silence. “Do you want to try that move, or would you like me to leave?”

“You can stay, Shadowsinger,” she replied, the words slipping out before she could reconsider.

“Thank you for your generosity.” He gave a playful bow, a hint of a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as a small smile softened her expression.

Adjusting her grip on the sword, she tried the move he’d demonstrated, surprised to find the technique was indeed easier and more natural than before.

Azriel stepped back and unsheathed his own sword, taking a fluid fighting stance.

“What are you doing?” she asked, brows furrowing.

“You forget, I usually train at night,” he said, his smile widening ever so slightly as the faint glow of starlight danced along his blade. “Don’t worry, I won’t spar with you…unless you want to?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly, her voice a little too sharp. Her heart stuttered as heat crept up her neck. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate,” she added, cursing herself for the words as soon as they left her mouth.

A crease formed between his brows as confusion flickered across his face. “Why is that?”

Because my focus would be elsewhere, she thought to herself and was glad he couldn’t read minds. “I haven’t sparred with anyone in a long time,” she said instead, dodging his question. “The last time I did was during my lessons.”

Azriel regarded her for a moment but didn’t push. “The offer still stands. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

She scoffed. “I don’t think so. You’re a hard male to find.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “If you tell Cass or Rhys, I’ll come meet you.”

“For you to leave your all-important work just to come spar with me? I’m honored,” she said, mock-gasping as she placed her free hand over her chest.

“For you, I’d leave anything,” he replied quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Azriel froze, his heart almost stopping as his eyes widened slightly. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

Y/n blinked, her breath catching. She wasn’t sure if she'd heard him correctly, or if she wanted to. Ignoring the comment, she focused on the conversation at hand instead. “I’ll think about your offer.”

Azriel exhaled quietly, relief briefly crossing his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt that kind of fear before. What’s going on with me? he thought to himself.

With a nod, he turned back to his training. Y/n did not run away from him like she always did. This time she stayed and they trained in silence.

The sun was already rising by the time they stopped, its first rays spilling across the roof. Y/n groaned softly, lowering her sword and stretching her sore arms.

“I probably won’t be able to train with your brother today. I can’t feel my arms.”

Azriel sheathed his sword, his lips twitching. “I can vouch for you if you want.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’d be weird.”

“How so?”

“Because the General is the General,” she replied, as if it were obvious. “If I go up to him and say I can’t practice today because I’m sore, he’ll ask why. And then you’d show up and say, ‘because we were practicing all night long.’” She arched a brow. “How do you think that would sound to him?”

Azriel’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly and for a moment, he actually looked flustered. “I see how that might sound…” he muttered. “So what are you going to tell him?” he asked, regaining his composure.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’ll probably just tell him I was practicing all night. He doesn’t need to know all the details.”

“Right,” Azriel nodded. “That’s for the best.”

“Besides,” she added, starting to ramble, “I think he’d be a little jealous. Seeing as I told him I wasn’t ready to train with him yet, and then we went and did exactly that.”

“Yeah, probably not a good idea,” he agreed, his lips twitching as if suppressing a smile.

“Alright, then. I’ll see you when I see you.” She turned to leave.

“Good night, Troublemaker,” he murmured, watching her go.

She paused at the doorway, glancing back at him. “Is that your new nickname for me now?”

Azriel smiled faintly, his shadows curling lazily around him. “I’ve had it for a while.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Sweet dreams, Shadowsinger,” she replied softly before slipping out of sight.

Azriel stood there for a moment longer, staring at where she’d disappeared. His hand grazed the hilt of his sword as her parting words echoed in his mind. He let out a slow breath, then finally turned to resume his training.

—

“I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but I have to ask, do you still have your powers?” Cassian asked during one of their sessions.

Y/n’s movements faltered, her brows knitting together. “Why does it matter?”

“Because if you do, it’s dangerous to keep them unchecked.”

She huffed, resuming her stance. “Even if I did still have my powers, which I’m not saying I do, nothing’s happened so far.”

“As you said, so far,” he pressed, his voice firm but not unkind. “But we all know what happens when you’re overwhelmed.”

“Let’s just get back to training,” she snapped, her tone leaving little room for argument.

“Y/n, it’s dangerous. Someone could get hurt.”

“I didn’t say I have powers,” she retorted sharply. “Just drop it.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his worry clear. “Just promise me, if you feel them coming back, you’ll tell me.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” She halted mid-movement, fixing him with a glare. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing, I’m just worried.”

“Well, don’t be,” she said, her voice colder now. “I’m not a ticking time bomb.”

“That you know of,” he replied, his tone edging toward frustration.

Y/n’s patience snapped. “Seriously, what is your problem?”

“Nesta still has her power,” he admitted quietly.

Her expression darkened, and her voice dropped to a dangerous calm. “Of course. Fucking Nesta! Why do you keep thinking that whatever she might do or have, I might as well?”

“Because that’s usually what happens,” Cassian said, pressing further. “You both are hotheaded, with tempers to match. You both took something from the Cauldron. You both have a way of pushing people away and saying hurtful things. Not to mention, you both shared similar bad habits after the war.”

“Do not compare her to me,” she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “She’s a much better person than I am, and we’re far more different than you think us to be.”

Before Cassian could reply, Y/n stormed off, leaving their session unfinished.

Y/n went straight to the library to unwind, her heart still pounding from the argument. Gwyn greeted her with a warm smile and recommended another book.

It wasn’t long before Y/n seelted into her usual spot, tucked away in the quiet depth of the library— the same place she had first discovered its solace. Bryaxis was no longer there, so that level should be safe, or so she thought.

She was aware Nesta was somewhere nearby, but thankfully, they didn’t cross paths.

She opened the book, letting its pages pull her into another world. But as she read, the quiet began to shift. A voice, faint at first, began to call her name. Again and again, the sound reverberated through the space.

Y/n stilled, shivers crawling up her spine. She tried to ignore it, focus on the words in front of her, but it was as if her body had other plans. Slowly, unwillingly, she stood.

The voice pulled her closer, an invisible string drawing her toward the darkness of the lower levels. Her steps were slow, hesitant, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t resist it. It wasn’t Bryaxis’ voice; she knew that much. This was darker, colder.

She halted just before the staircase. The voice whispered to her still, tempting her forward.

Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, spinning her around. Her breath caught as she found herself face- to-face with Azriel. Too close. He was too close, his face mere inches from hers. When she took in his features, she realized his breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling as though he’d run all the way to reach her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, startled.

Azriel didn’t answer right away, his shadows swarming protectively around them. His grip on her arm was firm, his other hand resting on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his side.

“Why were you going down there?” he demanded in his usual subdued voice.

Y/n blinked, the haze that had gripped her moments earlier beginning to fade. “How did you even find- never mind. I already know the answer to that question,” she muttered. “Something was calling to me. Something dark.”

Azriel’s expression turned more serious. “You shouldn’t stay in this part of the library again.”

“Why not?” she asked, her tone curious.

“The darkness is drawn to you like you are to it. Bryaxis might be gone, but there’s still darkness down there.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you have your shadows follow me?”

“No,” he replied. “It was a mere coincidence.” He glanced around warily. “They’re everywhere, though. And when they felt that darkness, they informed me.”

Y/n’s brows rose in mild disbelief. “You ran here?”

He nodded, reminding her. “We can’t winnow into the library.”

Y/n’s gaze flickered to his hand still wrapped around her arm. “You can let go now.”

Azriel blinked as though realizing it for the first time. He released her quickly, stepping back slightly, though his gaze didn’t waver. “Do you still have your powers?”

Her eyes sharpened at the question, a defensive edge creeping into her posture as she created a distance between them. “Did you talk to the General?”

“No, why?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, crossing her arms. “He asked me the same thing less than an hour ago.”

“I have reasons to believe the darkness was drawn to you because of your powers,” he explained, his eyes scanning her face for answers.“You should be careful.”

“You’re not going to tell me I should learn how to control it or keep it in check or whatever?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“No,” he replied simply. “I learned not to tell you what to do.”

She blinked again, caught off guard by his honesty. “At least one of you finally got the message.”

“Cassian means well,” Azriel said softly, though his tone held a hint of exasperation.

She scoffed. “He has a way of showing the opposite.”

Azriel tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “The same way you do when you care about someone?”

Y/n froze, the words landing with more weight than she wanted to admit. She said nothing, just stared at him, the silence between them thick and charged.

Azriel didn’t push further. He simply watched her for a moment longer before his shadows receded slightly, their tension easing. “Stay away from the lower levels,” he said at last. “Promise me that.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. Azriel took her silence as agreement.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he spoke softly before stepping back and turning on his heel.

Y/n remained rooted to the spot, staring at the place where he’d disappeared. Somehow, buried deep beneath her defenses, was the unsettling warmth of Azriel’s concern. Not that she’d ever acknowledge it, or admit how much it lingered.

Tags: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllita @nebarious  @t0uch-starved-h0e @bravo-delta-eccho  @sylvermoon @going-through-shit @latinxbipride @i-am-infinite @azrielrot @fuckingsimp4azriel @theravenphoenix26 @hanatsuki-hime @fantanbietsson @rcarbo1 @weasleymagic @secretsicanthideanymore @spymaster03 @elaselat @minnieoo @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @daughterofthemoons-stuff @jojodojo02 @questionmymentality @romantasyreader28 @cassie-at-college-blog @dabiloverphoenix @hippop345

[limethefirst]

Hi! How are you? I was looking for people writing movie shadow after I saw the movie and hoped I could submit a request for you? Can we maybe have shadow with a reader who is a alien hedgehog like him found after him? Shadow when he met the reader takes her in as his own and helps to in a way raise them. After the accident they both were put under statis and met up again in the base 50 years later after he and she had escaped?

Remember Me

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Hedgehog!reader (platonic)

warnings: spoilers

summary: Shadow takes it upon himself to look out for you even after being frozen for 50 years

a/n: slowly getting back into the writing groove yes!! if i wrote things for other fandoms would you guys burn me at the stake or not❤️

Shadow was used to feeling alone, being the only alien hedgehog constantly surrounded by scientists who saw him as some type of experiment was draining. Of course he had Maria and for her he was forever grateful but she didn't understand how he felt, no one really could. Until you came along, another alien hedgehog that arrived the same way he did, and was now viewed just like he was.

By all means, Shadow, was not considered approachable. He was only ever willingly around Maria and Gerald, and even Gerald was often pushing it, but when you showed up it was hard to catch him alone. He was basically your caretaker, a task he gave himself after seeing how nervous you felt around everyone and how you weren't exactly sure how to regulate the powers you also had.

You sat next to Shadow as Maria put on a new movie she'd found, 'Godzilla', it was called. You didn't like it, it was about an alien, an evil one who destroyed a place on earth called Japan. It made you feel slightly, self conscious? Even though you yourself wouldn't do that or ever thought of committing violent acts against people. Shadow seemingly noticing your discomfort nudged you, drawing your attention away from the self deprivation you were feeling. He looked down at you, giving you a gruff nod, almost like he could read your mind.

His gaze never left your eyes, silently communicating. It was easy to tell what he wanted to say, 'You're not a freaky monster alien who will go and tear up Japan.' Or something along those lines.. the latter was funnier though. Maria glanced over at you two, noticing the subtle communication but also the slight sadness you both had inn your eyes. Although he didn't show it as much, Shadow felt slightly the same upon seeing the movie.

He knew that feeling all to well, he'd seen it, in the eyes of the scientists, guards, everyone who worked here. They thought he was dangerous, and he hated it. Which was why he was determined to make sure you didn't feel the same, because he wasn't sure if he could handle knowing that you also felt like you were a danger, something that was a weapon.

The nights dragged on, and he made sure to keep an eye on you, silently at least. He will never openly show how much he cares. He just will care, and that's good enough for him, although Maria could tell he cared.

Then that night came, where Maria was gone, and so were you. They'd taken Maria from him and grabbed you, pulling you away from him. God, he couldn't stand it, the tears that fell as you screamed for him. He would've tried to do something if it weren't for the fact he was in shock, he'd witnessed one of his closeted friends die in front of him and now he had to watch as they dragged you away, putting you in a small cage as your small hands tried to reach out to him.

Finally there was silence, it was restless, a restless silence that he had to endure for 50 years. Until he was woken up, and all that consumed him was rage. While on the other side of the containment chambers, you'd also woken up, but instead of feeling anger coursing through you, it was fear. You looked around the barren room, the alarms were sounding, and everything was flashing red, suddenly a loud thud broke your nervous train of thought.

You're eyes widened slightly as something punched down the wall, you stepped out of the tube that held you, the liquid used to keep you asleep was drained, leaving your quills wet. The dust slowly began to clear revealing a figure you longed to see since that dreadful night.

"Shadow?.." You're voice slightly trembled as you spoke that name, trying to see him through the red flashing room. Shadow looked at you, his gaze was unwavering but it slightly softened seeing that you were still alive, and unharmed.

He let out a small sigh, his shoulders untensing at your voice, "Let's go," it was rough but his eyes betrayed him. He was grateful, happy to see that you, at least, had survived. He wasn't going to let what happened to Maria happen to you, he swore on that, nothing would harm you.

[tojisprettylittlething]

MR. AND MRS. FUSHIGURO — MASTERLIST

Assassin!Toji Fushiguro x Assassin!Fem!Reader

🔪 Genre: Action, Thriller, Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Smut, Angst, Comedy 📖 POV: Second Person 🔥 Warnings: Violence, Blood, Weapons, Explicit Scenes, Mind Games, Betrayal, Gunplay, Knifeplay, Power Struggles- A lot of stuff...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ACT I: STRANGERS IN THE DARK (Ch. 1-15)

1. Grocery Store Encounters – A normal day. A normal grocery run. Then Toji walks into your life. 2. The Coffee Shop – You see him again. A coincidence? Or something more? 3. The Art of Watching – A game of cat and mouse begins. You’re both hunters, but who’s the prey? 4. Dancing in the Shadows – A mission goes wrong. Or maybe, it goes exactly as planned. 5. A Gun Between Us – The first real fight. Knives, guns, and something even more dangerous—hatred. 6. Midnight Chase – An assignment forces you to confront Toji head-on. The lines blur. 7. Truce or Trap? – You agree to work together—temporarily. But can you really trust him? 8. Locked and Loaded – You teach him your tricks. He teaches you his. 9. Close Calls and Closer Touches – Tension explodes in an unexpected way. 10. Secrets Under Silk Sheets – A moment of weakness. A moment of passion. A moment that changes everything. 11. Trust is a Loaded Gun – He gets too close. You push him away. 12. Another Mission, Another Mistake – You let your guard down. You regret it. 13. The Kiss That Sealed It – He’s not just a job anymore. He’s something worse. 14. The Night We Became Us – One choice, one decision—your lives are no longer separate. 15. A Dead Man’s Love Letter – The past catches up to you both.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ACT II: HONEYMOON IN HELL (Ch. 16-35)

16. Mr. & Mrs. Fushiguro – You never wanted a husband. Toji never wanted a wife. But here you are. 17. How to Love a Killer – Toji is difficult. You are worse. 18. Marriage Counseling, Assassin Style – Fighting is easier with fists than words. 19. Bulletproof Vows – "For better or worse" hits differently when guns are involved. 20. Wife, Weapon, Widowmaker – You’re balancing marriage and murder—what could go wrong? 21. Beneath the Bloodstains – He sees a side of you no one else ever has. 22. Fighting or Foreplay? – Who said sparring couldn't be intimate? 23. Dinner with a Side of Danger – Date night turns deadly. 24. Sleeping with the Enemy – You dream of him. You dream of his death. 25. Lies Between the Sheets – There are things you haven’t told him. There are things he hasn’t told you. 26. Jealousy is a Sharp Blade – Another assassin flirts with you. Toji doesn’t like it. 27. Couples Therapy at Gunpoint – Trust is hard when you both have knives behind your backs. 28. A Mission Gone Too Far – You risk your life for him. He hates you for it. 29. Death’s Door and Your Name on His Lips – Toji almost loses you. Almost. Again. 30. The First 'I Love You' Was a Whisper in the Dark – Soft moments don't come easy. 31. Betrayal in a Black Dress – Toji finds out your biggest secret. 32. Revenge is a Lover’s Game – You break his heart. He breaks something worse. 33. No Mercy in Matrimony – You were never meant to be soft. Neither was he. 34. Ruin Me, Darling – The fight that nearly ends it all. 35. Back to Blood and Business – The only way forward is through fire.

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ACT III: TILL DEATH DO US PART (Ch. 36-55)

36. Hunted by Our Own – The agency wants you both dead. 37. Hitman Honeymoon – The world thinks you’re on vacation. You’re really on the run. 38. In the Arms of an Assassin – He saves you. You hate it. 39. One More Kill Before Breakfast – Morning routines, married assassin edition. 40. Megumi – The one thing neither of you planned for. 41. The Last Job – One more kill. Then, maybe, peace. 42. Wife of a Wanted Man – Toji makes the headlines. You make a choice. 43. Between a Kiss and a Kill – Love or survival? You can’t have both. 44. Bleeding in His Arms – You fall. He catches you. 45. Escape Plan – If you leave now, you can live. If you stay, you die together. 46. The Funeral of Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro – You fake your deaths. The world thinks you’re gone. 47. New Identities, Same Hearts – You try to be normal. It doesn’t work. 48. A House with No Weapons – Domestic life is boring. 49. Date Night Disaster – Toji gets jealous again. It’s still hot. 50. Megumi Says His First Word – Fatherhood looks good on him. 51. Killer Instincts Never Die – You promised to stop. You lied. 52. The Hit That Ruined Everything – One mistake. One bullet. One last fight. 53. Toji, Don’t Die on Me – He bleeds for you. 54. We Were Never Meant to be Normal – The truth finally settles. 55. The Final Kill – One last target. One last goodbye.

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ACT IV: THE LEGACY OF TWO MONSTERS (Ch. 56-70)

56. The Next Generation – Megumi starts to notice the truth. 57. Old Habits, Older Scars – You and Toji can’t sit still. 58. Enemies in the Shadows – Someone knows you’re still alive. 59. Back to the Beginning – The past never stays buried. 60. Hunted Again – Running was never the answer. 61. The Love Story of Two Killers – You tell Megumi how it all began. 62. A Family of Assassins? – The question neither of you want to answer. 63. Peace or Power? – The world calls for you again. 64. One More Bullet – Can you ever truly escape? 65. The Final War – Toji vs. the world. 66. Love in the Line of Fire – You always knew how this would end. 67. A Monster’s Goodbye – One of you isn’t making it out alive. 68. A Widow’s Revenge – If Toji dies, you will burn the world. 69. A New Name, A New Life – But can you ever really leave? 70. Mr. and Mrs. Fushiguro: The End – Or maybe, a new beginning.

[chao-thicc-hcs]

OMG PLEASEEEEEE MAKE A PART 2 ON THE BONTEN TRIO SLAPPING THERE S/O, I need to know what happens after sanzu isn't High and drunk🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏😞

A/N: I am so sorry I couldn't imagine Sanzu giving a damn that much

Slapping you accross the face | the aftermath

ft. haitani brothers ; sanzu haruchiyo

warning(s): ran's is very lewd in the end, toxic relationship, mentions of drugs (duh), stalking, murder, sanzu is a bitch (shocker), mentions of domestic violence. MDNI, please, or I will cry, blood, weapons,,, and sanzu

!reader is non-binary but there might be a trace of femininity

NOT PROOFREAD, YET!

ran↷

Usually, when you get a taste of something awfully bitter, it fades away and you do not remember it.

This was not the case for our main character here.

Days grew colder, so did his bed, his apartment, his meals, his interactions with others. Behind the facade of a man unbothered by the world around him, carrying a leisure smile and a carefree attitude around his mates, Ran was still a human being.

The loss of someone who carried light within them was heavy. Ran found himself daydreaming everyday while doing his duties - about both of you dancing around your home again, going out on expensive dates, coming back home to your "nagging", having someone to hug and kiss before he falls asleep. Alas, you were gone, far, far away... at least mentally.

Physically, he saw you every other day. He stayed in the shadows, observing your every move and trying to eavesdrop your conversations with friends. You never noticed him again. Maybe because you wanted him gone so badly, or maybe because you couldn't forgive yourself that you were capable of overcoming this.

Ran was unaware of the state you were in. Staying in a relative's place meant getting accustomed to things without your lover. You were like a ghost there, nobody wanting to listen to your words, nobody caring about hygiene, general rules and norms returned you back to when Ran would look you in the eyes with this naughty spark in them, listening to your ramblings as he occasionally hummed to them, to how your shared apartment smelled like a dream, to how he would help you with chores.

Whatever mark the slap left your cheek was now long gone. You couldn't bring yourself to hate this man, even when you were reminded that he was a criminal. It felt like torture being away from him, despite his outburst. It was only that what made you feel despair, but it couldn't overpower the numerous things that man was good for, how he made your life worth it.

Your finger trembled over the "send" button but the desire was stronger and you pressed it with force, then you threw your phone on the other side of the bed.

Being the busy man he is it took him more than two hours to respond, which increased the anxiety brewing inside of you. You kept checking your phone, refreshing the messages, restarting it, even muting the messages and calls of everyone but Ran. The second you heard a notification you rushed to take your phone... it was finally him.

Your shared apartment never felt as suffocating as the first time you got in after the incident. However, in less than an hour, Ran made you feel home again.

He was now thrusting deep inside of you, holding you and squeezing you in a way that gave out how much he's been missing you these past few weeks. The air was filled with the whimpers and moans of both of you. Your bodies were connecting, resonating with one's wavelengths once again. It felt so good being able to kiss him once again, run your fingers in his hair, feel his skin against you. His voice felt like a forgotten melody you re-discovered again, and your voice felt the same to him.

"I am so.. agh.. sorry for hurting you, my dearest.." exclaimed he with a shaky from pleasure voice, his hands squeezing you tight against him, slowing his pace "please, come back to me.."

You placed a finger on his mouth and cupped his cheeks after.

"Don't.. say anything... I have already forgiven you, Ran.. I can't live without you.. this slap will never mean anything in comparison to how amazing of a lover you are... just don't do this again.".

With this the lecherous dance continued... both of you finally being at peace from your reunion.

rindou↷

The dress that he ripped apart was now on the ground, untouched since you last were in the room with him. His only company was the air filling up the room, mixed with the scent of your body mist he occasionally sprayed just to help himself imagine you around him better.

"It's no use, Rindou. You acted like a douchebag, you suffer the consequences. Hell, how could you get jealous of me? Y/n is not even close to my type."

Ran's words rung in his skull, piercing its walls. He was well aware of this fact, he wanted to run away from the guilt, from the responsibilities.

Well, safe to say he succeeded. He blamed you and only you, refusing to acknowledge the truth - that he was the one who hurt you, who suffocated you and belittled you as a human being, who only saw you as a possession. Days went by agonizingly slow, plagued by constant thoughts of you in his arms, his embrace.

It was hard living without you, as hard as swallowing the lump of responsibility that grew bigger in the man's throat.

Every victim of Bonten now looked like you in his eyes, every woman that approached him looked like you. You were impossible to be forgotten so easily, and this is why he wanted to believe that you were somehow a "curse".

Just like any deranged man lacking self-awareness and self-control, Rindou got rid of every person who dared showing romantic interest in you. They either "mysteriously vanished", or were forced by him to tell you that you are "unattractive." All of this was an evil little scheme of his. It all went well, after all. His plan was executed perfectly.

You grew self-conscious. You thought you indeed carried some sort of "curse" inside of you that repelled any potential lover, hell, even a platonic relationship. Gloominess engulfed your consciousness, forcing you to willingly isolate yourself from others, avoiding to create new possible connections with people.

Who knows? Maybe in the end you thought about returning back to him? Fool. Of course you are better than that. You burned everything that man ever gifted you, you got rid of everything that reminded you of his presence, including electronics.

Rindou's satisfaction grew stronger with realizing this. "An angel got its wings chopped, hm? Well, I shall sew them back. Now, precious, come into my arms.."

All of this was futile. You were still back in his embrace. You figured out that now after deeming yourself as a "cursed" individual, there was no use of you fighting for your freedom anymore. Faith has ordered that you shall be his forever - nothing is of power to separate you.

sanzu↷

Your body was aching, your legs were giving up on you after the night spent under Sanzu's manipulation.

He was a god in making you feel good and forgetting the fights you had occasionally because of his dimwit mentality. Empty promises of ditching the drugs and alcohol, of quitting his beloved activity of tormenting innocent citizens.

The clothes scattered on the ground were now curled in a ball in his hands. ''Who gave you the confidence to believe that you had the right over me? Why do you think that your tears have enough power to melt my heart and change me?" his words were poison, his glare was sharp. He made you feel so small by looming over your sitting form on the bed, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. ''You are awfully quiet, doll. Maybe I should be slapping you more often so you stay put, hm?"

A powerful man over your conscience, indeed. Even after the effects of the drugs have worn out. Sanzu was a man who had created his own world, with its own rules inside of it to follow. Mikey was the center of it all, and if you were not him - well, do not expect him to adhere to your whims so easily.

Your naked body shivered under the cold autumn air. It was a hassle getting your clothes on. Sanzu was already leaning on the door frame, piercing daggers in you with his glare. ''By the time I come back home from work, I expect this entire mess to be cleaned.'' spat he, playing with his weapon in his hand ''I deserve to be pampered after you angered me.'' and with this last scoff he left you in the dark room.

''Sanzu...'' you mumbled pathetically to yourself, as if this was going to teleport him back, radically changed. The last string of hope cut itself when the lonely feeling seeped in you.

Running away from that man was the best option you could do, and maybe the worst at the same time, for you never knew how hard the drugs might have hit him this particular evening.

Thankfully, Sanzu was unaware of your presence until the very next morning, when he thrashed everything that caught his eye. Bloody hands gripping his pink locks, tearing some apart, tangling others. ''I will make them pay. No, no, it ain't possible that they've ran away.. right? They can't live without me!" and such tomfoolery echoed in the room he used to share with you.

It was not that he missed you. He missed being able to control someone. Perhaps, physical torment was not his only forte.

There was no trace of you. You'd managed to collect everything from your shared home before fleeing away in another town back to your parents. Sanzu's frenzy was swiftly gone when he understood that you were no different than the next person he was going to court.

However, nobody runs away from Sanzu without any consequences. He found out where your relatives lived and just couldn't resist showing you what a.. ''treasure'' you lost. Weekly, he sent you anonymous ''gifts''. You knew that it was him, because they had most of the time dead animals with a note saying "this could be you~ they ran away just like you did, but they didn't manage to escape~", used lingerie of women he fucked and came on, limbs of his tortured victims, foods he knew you despised...

Fear always remained inside of you, surging in your veins and forcing your heart to jump out of your rib cage. You knew he was insane. You were now living with the thought of him attempting to abduct you.

No remorse nor regret was left in this man's heart, it only opened itself to tremendous amounts of hate, violence, and lecherousness.

©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are appreciated