#the same environment he will always act the same. and he wanted! to change. but they can't let him because they assume that

[kiseiakhun]

Some thoughts:

- Kyle does study Hal like he's majoring in Halology at Green Lantern University. He literally rifled through Hal's entire life and memories just to understand him better. And Hal was just... okay with it. I don't think Hal would've handled it as well if anyone else did that to him, but also they were both gods at the time so idk. Whatever flavour of relationship that ^ is, that is what they are

- actually maybe Hal wouldn't have cared if someone else did that to him, either. His definition of consent and normal boundaries to have in interpersonal relationships are uhhhhh. Different.

- I don't think Kyle would've been okay with it if it was the other way around either (though Hal and Kyle did briefly merge minds that one time Kyle went yellow lantern so. ????? But diving into ones consciousness and experiencing his world and emotions is different from peering into every single day of his past simultaneously in one single second, which you can do because you are both god and Jesus. And the guy you're looking at is the holy Spirit. This metaphor is getting away from me). There's this vein of self-sacrifice that runs through their relationship that's... interesting. Hal is willing to give himself up for Kyle, to let Kyle do whatever he wants to him, because Hal is so convinced that Kyle is good. That Kyle is a good person. He is a good person, so even if he does something not good, then it must be for a good cause, and if Kyle has to do something not good then it's better for him to do it to Hal rather than anyone else because Hal deserves it, and he especially deserves it from Kyle. Hal is always chasing Kyle, trying to make up for parallax. If he atones enough, he can fix the past. He can change his mistakes.

- Hal is the closest exposure Kyle has to a male authoritative figure fucking up in a major way and then trying to fix it, the same way he spent years wishing his dad would come back into his life and fix the thing that was broken between him and his mom

- Kyle is the best person for Hal to project any paternal feelings onto because he's an adult and he was an adult when they met. There's no past there, no real responsibility except the uhhhh. The whole parallax thing. But even then Hal never had a real emotional obligation towards Kyle; the bond they shared was as green lanterns, a role both of them were volunteered for and chose to take up in the spur of the moment. There's no past there, like with Roy and Wally, and no familial connection like with Helen. Being paternalistic towards Kyle is safe. It's a space for Hal to explore his emotions, too, get over his complicated feelings about his dad and the flightiness in his heart in an environment where fucking up won't irrevocably ruin a kid's life.

- if Hal actually saw Kyle as a son he would hurt him the same way Kyle's father did. He will panic and run and leave Kyle all alone because Hal feels stifled by family. I think his issues go beyond just commitment in the romantic sense - it's specifically the nuclear family that freaks him out. In his mind, he was the catalyst that ruined his family. He broke his mom chasing after the dream of his dad. He left Carol at the altar because marriage means kids, and kids mean he will leave them broken just like Martin's death left him broken.

- the fact that his relationship with Kyle ISN'T like that makes it hard for me to see their bond as strictly father-son, despite the airs they put on. It's like bdsm, in a way. Or pro wrestling. It's kayfabe. They're acting, but also they're not really acting, and it never goes acknowledged, and they never talk about it.

- I do think devotee is a better explanation for their relationship but Kyle is almost resigned to it because he's convinced he'll forever be in hals shadow and Hal is slavering at the bit to defend Kyle. Sinestro will call Kyle a bitch halfway across the galaxy and Hal will show up to punch him. They both want to worship the other as their God and if you told either of them the other person sees them the same way they'll look at you like you're insane because they've both put each other on a pedestal so high they can't comprehend anyone seeing them in a lesser light than they do

- I'm forever thinking about that convergence comic where parallax Hal sent Kyle away into another world before utterly decimating the universe they were put against because Hal refuses to let Kyle bear the burden of that many deaths on his shoulder btw. Like. They had no choice. Kyle was willing to fight alongside Hal. But Kyle is clean. Kyle is the idealistic pillar for everyone else to rally around. Hal is the killer. Hal is the one who should make the hard choices. It genuinely makes me insane. If events were blorbos convergence would be mine.

- I also don't really see them as mentor/mentee because the other earth lanterns (aside from the ones that came later) mentored Kyle more than Hal did because Hal was, yk, evil. John and Alan played MUCH more of a mentor role to kyle

- (Guy and Kyle didn't really achieve their current bromanticship until after Kyle was already an established lantern)

- (Guy also killed a guy for Kyle because Kyle shouldn't suffer the burden of bloodshed, albeit his reasons were more selfish. People just seem to do this in front of Kyle idk. He has an aura or something. Someone please show me a John example. Or an Alan example. There has to be an Alan example, Alan is like this || close to losing it all at any given time)

- anyway I chose romantic because it's the closest but my actual interpretation is "if this was romantic it would be better for the both of you. Idk what the fuck you're doing though."

i’m actually really curious about this, how do y’all interpret hal + kyle?

[theood]

WC ocs bouncing in my head. Fogthroat doesn't take on an apprentice for a long time. Being trained in the Dark Forest, grappling with that and what it means in his death he refused. And I don't think he told anyone. It was a silent thing. His mentor noticed the little scars, the messed up fur, the sudden change in his style but Fogthroat wouldn't talk about it.

And he still doesn't. Even now, as a well-respected (senior) warrior. He's just sharp. Sharp edges that won't be roughed down.

It doesn't help that Lionleap, even now, moons after they last trained together, still visits. Sometimes it's in his dreams but other times... Other times she's there. In the land of the living. And it bothers him. The way she taunts, the way she looks at him, the way she treats him like an apprentice who doesn't know anything. And she still acts like she cares. Sees her dead son in him and it makes his stomach churn because he's told her again and again he's not her son. He's not a replacement for her kit.

And when his leader finally does give him an apprentice, for months it's not great. He's a harsh trainer. They get to hear him loudly (and obviously) telling his leader that "I don't respect your decision. It wasn't the right one. Give them to another warrior. We have others."

Of course that doesn't happen. And there's a lot to be said of how Fogthroat could change, could grow, could see himself in this young warrior but he doesn't. He sees an arrogant little kit who doesn't know what's what. And they try hard to get his approval but no matter how good they hunt, how well they fight, anything, it's a cold shoulder and barely a good job.

Until one day Lionleap comments on his apprentice and Fogthroat breaks. Confronts her with teeth and claws, snarling and spitting for her to not lay a single paw on them. Not to touch a whisker or he'll come to the Dark Forest and kill her himself. He tells her as he has her pinned that she's not going to influence any more cats. She's done. Ends it with "I always wanted you to be good. I wanted to know... To prove you were. So when I died, I could get Starclan to somehow bring you back. Reunite mother and kit. But that's never going to happen Lionleap. You sealed your fate long ago. To stay here and die forgotten."

And as quick as the two were squabbling, she's gone. Very few words spoken. Leaving Fogthroat huffing, fur puffed out, the air heavy and electric.

The next time he trains his apprentice, outwardly, nothing changes. No one knows. No one will.

But finally, his apprentice hears him mutter out that he did good enough at hunting alone.

And that's a start, isn't it?

[brittle-doughie]

I’ll Take You V1 (I’ll Miss You Alt)

Some things are not fated to last, but trying to push closer only makes love farther out of reach. Results can be fatal.

———————————————————————

Five Cookies were baked by the Witches, radiant beings graced with wisdom and power unparalleled. The Five were destined to reshape the tempestuous world and usher in a new age of peace and prosperity for all.

Seeing as how the Five were unlike most Cookies, they could live on for far longer, the Witches have decided to bake one more Cookie. A Cookie that wasn’t as strong or held great power like them, but rather…as a companion for any of the Five to cherish and love dearly.

The love blossomed into something more that could be considered as forever happiness…

———————————————————————

You’ve always looked up to the Fount of Knowledge to know many aspects of this world like the back of his hand! However, all of the knowledge in the world wouldn’t compare to the joys he would have spending time with you!

He likes to spend his time in the Spire of All Knowledge cuddled up next to you as he reads books with you, showing you the many wonders of Earthbread! He always kept the stories interesting with his mannerisms and funny way of speaking, you’re never bored when he reads.

He makes sure to always leave time away from writing in scrolls and books to have moments with you, why would he keep his cutie patootie waiting on him! The texts could wait, snuggling up to you by his tower window was much more preferable to him!

“Man, you always tell such fascinating tales, my fair Fount! It almost makes me feel dull in comparison!”

“Oh, don’t let those little words come out of your mouth again! You are way more fascinating than any of the books I have! I can write whole books on their own on what you’re just oh so great to me!”

“Oh stop, you’re just saying things.”

“Far from it, my little Cookie~ It’s the honest truth~”

The two of you share a laugh as you look out the spire window, leaning on each other…

———————————————————————

The Herald of Change always had that bit of a grumpy side to him when it came to getting him out of his temple to come look at the new civilizations and kingdoms being created everyday.

Everything was the same to him no matter the result, but he could never say no to your requests to visit these civilizations. Your enthusiasm to see what could possibly be different was pretty infectious, encouraging him to go with you in these visits.

He was quite the protective one too, insisting that in return of going with you, you are to stick by his side as you two walked. He makes sure of that by having one of his arms around your waist, he behaves himself but will shoot a glare anyone getting too close.

“Look at that spring the townspeople made, my Herald! Look at the flowers blooming from the water and the creatures that inhabit in and around it, isn’t it wonderful?”

“It’s remarkable, but it’s nothing new to me. I’ve seen many springs like this before, they come and go eventually. Just like the many civilizations we’ve visited today, there’s so much more that I can get done by now!”

“The destination may be the same, but the journey doesn’t have to. It can be different compared to another, so many different ways Cookies behave and act, environment changing with many different plants and creatures. Tell me just one thing that you wouldn’t want to change.”

The Herald, looking down at the ground, slowly formed a smile as he softly laughed, turning his gaze to look at you. One of his arms going around you to hold you close to him.

“I’d say….”

“It would be us that I would never want to change.”

“Aw….”

The two of you hold onto each other close as you both looked on at the lively spring.

———————————————————————

The Seeker of Volition was immensely patient and considerate of you, shaping and changing her realm to make you as comfortable as you can be. She knows things around the Ivory Pagoda may not too interesting or extravagant, but that was alright with you. So long as you were with her.

Her displays of affection were pretty subtle that no Cookie that visited her would’ve suspected that you and her had something close and in a way, it made it more special to her. The gentle hand holding, the way she caressed your cheek as she spoke to you, it was small yet held so much love that she shared with you.

She’s always wondered why you never asked for a wish from her, with how many Cookies that visited her wanting that exact thing. Well, you didn’t really want to wish for anything, the Seeker was enough for you. Being able to stand by her side like this was a wish come true. She didn’t understand your refusal for a wish, but…it touched her that she was enough for you.

“After all the Cookies that have come to me for a wish, I did not think you wouldn’t be one of them. Is there not anything you want wish for?”

“Oh, Seeker. We’ve been through this, ehe. I do not want a wish, I have all that I need here at the Ivory Pagoda. As long as there’s this, I’m happy.”

“You are? After spending all of your time here at the Ivory Pagoda with me, you must have some sort of wish you want granted. Please, say the word. I shall fulfill it to the best of my abilities.”

“Well….”

“Yes?”

“I wish to take a walk around the Pagoda with you. Just the two of us.”

The Seeker was not expecting such a simple and mundane wish, she would’ve seen it as a waste if it came from any other Cookie, but…

To hear it from you…it made giggle softly with a smile.

“Hm…hehe, very well. I shall grant you your wish, my dearest Cookie.”

The two of you hold hands as you leave out the doors to her Pagoda, intending to enjoy a peaceful walk together…

———————————————————————

But could that happiness really last forever?

As time went on, it felt the Cookies you once held dear to you had changed, no longer being the Cookies you once loved. It was as if the power they held was slowly warping their minds and ideals into something more twisted and dark.

“But we both know it’s ever too good to happen.”

———————————————————————

The Fount could never be truly honest with you, always masking his words that tinged with deceit, always making a game of things. Even the books and text he’d were how you remembered…

“Fount, this..isn’t how the story went the last time I’ve heard about it…”

“Oh, that boring ol’ story? I helped myself to make a few changes that really added to the pizzazz of it all, don’t you think?”

“But that never happened! It’s a complete fabrication! Real Cookies have gone through those events, I feel like we shouldn’t tarnish that to make it “interesting.”

“Oh my! I’m hurt! I just wanted to make it more good! Oh well, I’m sure those Cookies wouldn’t mind, right? Come on, let’s read another, shall we?”

“N-no, I don’t want to read another. I’ll just..be in my room.”

“Hey! Where you going?! I swear the details on the next one are accurate! Mostly! Maybe!”

———————————————————————

The Herald never could see how you see the many locations and civilizations you two see, always groaning and muttering that it was boring to him. It had gotten to the point where he ignored you and remain sat on his seat in the temple.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“I mean it. You say that all these places would be different in their own ways, but it’s all been the same! It bores me when I have to go through the same thing over and over again!”

“I-I promise that I’ll keep your interest piqued with this one-“

“NO!”

He destroyed a nearby table with a single hit.

“You can go on without me from now on. I have no reason to endure something so boring as another town visit…”

“R-right, okay, I’ll just…go.”

You hastily leave as the Herald looked at his fist that broke the table, he realized something as a large grin on his face formed…

“That…felt good….”

———————————————————————

The Seeker didn’t feel like herself anymore with the coldness and apathy she now radiated. She didn’t push you away when trying to be close like old times, but she didn’t really reciprocate your affections like she would back then. It felt like..she didn’t love you all that much anymore.

“Where you going?”

“I must return to the Ivory Pagoda in order to continue my pursuit of becoming a Leavened One.”

“I know this Leavened One status is important to you, but…wouldn’t that mean I won’t get to see you much anymore. I can’t bear that…”

“Oh, Y/N Cookie…”

She caressed your cheek, but it didn’t feel right. There was no sense of love placed into it, as if she only did it to calm you down by reminding you of the past.

“You should know that I hold this opportunity dear to me, but it does not mean I value you any less, it is meaningless to worry. I must go.”

“What about my wish to spend the day together…?”

“You should also know that not every basic wish will be granted. I am sorry…”

———————————————————————

Regardless, it felt like you were kicked to the curb as you walked outside during the night.

You were not happy. You look up at the sky, wondering if your Creator was looking down at you too.

You ask them how could things go so wrong. What purpose could you have now that the Cookies you were made for weren’t themselves anymore? Were they even the same Cookies at this rate?

You ask…what could you do…?

…

…

…

You look down, only now noticing a nearly invisible string flowing in the air, red in color as it looked like it came from your chest. You reached up to hold it and in doing so, the string was seemingly cut and it floats away into the sky…

That…oddly felt liberating. You looked at your hands and realized that..you did have meaning outside of your purpose. There was a whole world out there that you could now explore! Many things to see and Cookies to meet!

You felt rejuvenated and head off to rest for tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll be a new Cookie!

Surely, the “Virtues” wouldn’t mind if you were gone for a little while, right?

…

…

…

…

But you weren’t the only one who felt a change after that string was cut…

The spire trembled.

The temple shook.

The cocoon violently spasmed.

Their occupants having felt the full effects…

The Fount suddenly tore the book they were “changing” as he keeled over, clutching his chest where his heart was…he felt…empty.

The Herald started a rampage in his temple, the pain in his chest fueling his anger and muddied despair as he destroyed everything…he felt…lost.

The Seeker, once settled in her cocoon, was now clutching her head with both her hands as she lets out silent screams of anguish, the pain in her chest amidst a void of white too great to ignore…she felt…voided.

One by one, they fall….

They’d find you, and they’ll take you….

———————————————————————

You were just about to carry on in your boat out of the continent when a sheep wandered to you.

“Oh hello, little sheep. You lost your way from your herd?”

“Baaaaa….”

“Why are you looking down? Come on, look at me…”

The sheep suddenly jolted up to look you, it looked furious as it’s eyes glowed shades of blue.

“BAAAAAA!”

“What?!”

The sheep poofed into blue smoke, and in its place was now a very angry Cookie.

“My Fount?!”

“ERRR! WRONG! Now let me ask you a question. WHY DID YOU LEAVE?!”

Shadow Milk Cookie had found you right as you were about to leave Beast-Yeast.

“I’m sorry, my Fount. But…I can’t do this anymore. You are no longer the Cookie I know and loved. You lie to me, you twist things so badly, I can’t even tell what’s true and what’s not.”

“I do not lie to you! I never could! You weren’t supposed to leave me behind! You were supposed to stick to me like glue for as long as the two of us lived!”

“We all change, Fount. That includes you and me.”

“Is that it?! Are you just going to walk away from EONS worth of our time together all for my new change of style?!”

“You are NOT going anywhere! You are coming back with me to that Spire and we are going to adore and be mushy to each other like always!”

“I’m going, Fount. I’ve made my decision…”

“Oh…hehe….ehehehe~!”

“What? What are you laughing for-“

Your movements are stopped, you are horrified to see blue strings wrapped tightly around your arm. You try to free yourself, but you found that all your limbs were wrapped in strings too. You pulled into his arms as he giggled menacingly to you, a shadow over his eyes.

“Oh, you silly little thing~ I never would’ve expected you to lie to ME! My brand new style doesn’t mean my heart went out the window! If you can’t accept how deceit seeps into the very cracks of this world, then…”

He leans in real close to your face, whispering in a chilling voice…

“I’ll just have to take you, cutie~ Ehehehe~”

You were never seen again…

———————————————————————

You were having a peaceful time in the civilization you were staying at, enjoying a nice meal provided by the locals when…

“AAAAAH! Run for your lives!”

“He’s destroying everything in his path, watch out!”

“ARGH! It hurts!”

The screams of Cookies in the distance alerted you to turn around from where you were sitting to see Cookies running away from something.

And their screams weren’t the only ones you were hearing.

“COME OUT TO ME, LITTLE COOKIE! I KNOW YOU’RE HERE SOMEWHERE!”

The Herald(?!) shouted in anger as he was breaking and bashing through anything in his path up ahead.

Cookies that were in his way were simply hit back with enough force to send them into walls or sliding back on the ground, he didn’t give them any time to move.

“Ah! Please! Show mercy!”

“Mercy?! There IS no mercy for you WORMS!”

The Cookie on the ground from an earlier attack tried to get up, but groaned in pain as Burning Spice Cookie slowly raised his weapon, the Cookie covers their face to brace for impact.

“STOP!”

Burning Spice Cookie immediately stops to look in the direction of your shout and locking eyes with you, he heads for you.

“Please, don’t hurt any more Cookies!”

“So…you’ve been here all along, spending time amidst these ANTS! The tide of Change will sweep through all, leaving everyone here as nothing but dust in the wind!”

“Have you NO IDEA how long I’ve looked for to find you when you didn’t come back the temple?!”

“To not see you by my side for DAYS?!”

“I know you’re mad, but please, you don’t have to do this! I’ll..I’ll come back with you…”

“Will you now…? I must be sure!”

“What are you-“

Your talk was stopped when he grips your shoulders and brought you to a rough kiss that left you coughing spice when he pulled away.

“Hahaha! Yes! I remember this feeling now! I expect you to stay in the temple with me, for as long as we live! I promise not to break you too easily, ahahaha!”

You felt conflicted as you were dragged with him back to the temple. He’d never let you go as easily again…

———————————————————————

You say farewell to a close friend of yours as you head inside your home. You were ready to turn in for the night as you offed the lights, it was particularly foggy tonight, so you chose to keep things closed up before you turned in for tonight.

You close your eyes and drift off to sleep..or at least, you tried to before you hear a slight creak in your room. You sit up and look, only to see a pair of slit pupils staring right back at you in the darkness in the room.

Neither of you move….

…

…

…

“I may give nothing for your loyalty, but to see you offer your mind and soul to another, right after I had been free from my cocoon…you will learn that it was pointless to try and leave me…”

“My Seeker?!”

She barely gives you time to let the realization sink in before she rushed forward to hold your cheeks in her hands, lifting you up effortlessly to bring you face to face with her as she looks down at you. Her eyes wide open and pitch black, her slit pupils bearing down on yours.

She was as expressionless as ever, but her eyes told you everything you needed to know that she was mad. You felt weak, dough turning pale..

“I never forgot our bond, the years upon years that we shared…my rise to the Leavened One should not have been a path I walked alone…”

“Why are you saying..?”

“I should’ve shared my feelings with you, to show you that everything will be futile in the end. Just like your intentions to leave me as just a thought…”

“No, you don’t have to…”

“THIS is my wish. To have you see what I see, to feel how I feel. About everything, about you…”

“No, please…”

“I promise…I promise to not have us walk alone anymore…”

Everything was a blur as she took you away from your home, up the stairs; and back to the Ivory Pagoda. The last of the outside world forever a distant memory as the cocoon wrapped up once more, Mystic Flour clutching you close to her body.

Together in a world of white, that is what she always wished for…

———————————————————————

“I loved you

Even though I loved you

I’ll treat you like this

Like the traitor you are

Return my feelings

I loved you

Even though I loved you

Forever”

———————————————————————

[xislyns]

may I please request a Luffy x fem reader where they encounter an enemy who’s devil fruit makes people reveal the truth which ends up with Luffy confessing his feelings for the reader and leaves him all embarrassed and the rest of the crew in shock. maybe he even says something along the lines of “I think y/n looks cute when she’s wearing my straw hat” idk, I just had this thought I hope it makes sense cause I feel like it would be super adorable! thank you!!

AWW WAIT I SEE THE VISION thats so fucking cute , 😭😭

𐙚Luffy's confession..

characters : Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

summary : The strawhats were met with an Enemy who has came onboard on the sunny, wielding the truth-truth fruit, the fruit that causes the victim to speak out the secrets hidden in the depths of their heart.

── .✦ The Thousand Sunny was alive with its usual chaos, Zoro was napping in the sun, Sanji was cooking up something delicious in the kitchen, and Nami was scolding Usopp for his latest invention that had somehow messed with her map collection. You were perched near the bow of the ship, enjoying the breeze and smell of the ocean waters. Luffy, as always, was sitting high on the mast, grinning like the dork he was, with his iconic straw hat sitting nicely on his head.

but the environment suddenly turned gloomy, The sea turned eerily calm, a dark figure had emerged from the mist. the same figure who is the cause of the sudden change, stood on a small boat, his strange appearance made even more unsettling by his wild grin.

“I am Verità, The wielder of the Truth Truth Fruit,” the man announced, his voice echoing unnaturally. “Anyone within my aura cannot tell a lie. Beware, Straw Hat Pirates, for your secrets will betray you!"

“Oh, great,” Usopp groaned. “Another weird Devil Fruit guy.”

Before anyone could act, Verità raised his hand, and a shimmering wave of energy washed over the ship. It was subtle at first, but then you felt a strange feeling in your stomach.

“I’ve always hated Sanji’s soufflés,” Zoro blurted out, his eyes wide in horror in his own words.

Sanji dropped his spatula. “WHAT?!”

“I think Chopper’s transformation is creepy ” Nami yelped, clapping a hand over her mouth too late.

The chaos spread quickly, and you tried your best to stay quiet, but your gaze was drawn to Luffy. He stood frozen, looking unusually serious for once. You could see redness creeping up his neck and ears. Then, in a voice uncharacteristically soft and hesitant, he said:

“I think Y/N looks really cute when she’s wearing my straw hat.”

The chaos seemed to stop. almost tso silent that you can hear the dropping of a needle. Every eye on the Sunny locked on to Luffy, who now looked like he wanted to disappear forever.

“WHAT?!” you and the crew exclaimed in unison.

Luffy yanked his hat down over his face, his voice muffled as he continued to speak, completely unable to stop himself. “And… I like her smiles. And I think about holding her hand a lot. And I want her to stay by my side forever because I… I love her.”

The silence was deafening. Luffy’s words hung in the air, leaving everyone in stunned disbelief. Sanji’s cigarette fell from his lips. Usopps eyes looked like they were going to bust from their sockets. Even Zoro’s usual stoic demeanor cracked with raised eyebrows.

You, on the other hand, felt your face heat up as you stared on at Luffy. He peeked out from under his hat, his cheeks bright red. “Uh.. I didn’t really mean to say all that. but, I mean, I did, but-”

Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, you stepped forward, your heart pounding. Reaching outto him, and took his hand. “Luffy… I think you’re cute too,” you said softly, smiling at him.

His eyes widened, and then his signature grin broke out across his face, despite the embarrassment. “Really?!”

“Really,” you replied. And, without thinking, luffy picked up his straw hat and placed it on your head while his smile got bigger and his head tilted slightly

The crew erupted into laughter, and teasing. Sanji dramatically declared he was robbed, while Robin and Franky exchanged knowing smiles . Luffy just stood there, his grin stretching wider than ever as he took your hand and held it tight.

Verità watched the scene with an amused smirk, his presence seemingly forgotten in the midst of Luffy’s unexpected confession. He cleared his throat dramatically, pulling attention back to himself.

“Touching , But don’t think this little love story will be able to save you "

“Ugh, can’t we have one peaceful moment?” Nami groaned,rolling her eyes.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Zoro replied, cracking his knuckles and stepping forward, his normal stoic look returning to his face.

As the crew fought , the two of you couldnt help but stay side by side, Luffy’s hat resting comfortably on your head while you fought.

even though this wasnt how he thought it would happen, He cant lie it certainly was easier!

[brawberryz]

You think i'm weird?

Damian Wayne × BatSis! Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / M.list

You had noticed that Damian was more distant than usual, his self-centered personality and confident tone had almost completely disappeared

You weren't stupid, you knew something was wrong, you were his older sister, maybe you had different mothers and were raised in different environments but that doesn't mean you didn't understand

You said you were going to confront him on the next patrol, you needed answers and as the excellent detective you were, you were going to get them

_

"Is there something bothering you?"

You said suddenly as the two of you sat in front of a building, it was the right time to talk, there was no one who could interrupt.

"What do you mean?"

Damian asked as if he didn't know what you meant.

"You're acting strange, like something was bothering you..."

You said as you stared at him, you knew something was wrong, maybe you didn't say it all the time but you cared too much for him, maybe sometimes you fought and it seemed like you wanted to kill each other and sometimes it was true, but still there was a part of your head that hated the idea that he, your brother, your little brother was in danger or sad.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Damian seemed to simply ignore the subject and want to change the conversation, your brow furrowed at such a response.

"I'm not stupid, Damian, tell me what's wrong? Did you fight with dad again or what?"

You sat a little closer to him, you were going to find out what was wrong with Damian even if it would take you a thousand years

"It's not that, it's just that..."

His voice trailed off in the middle of the sentence, he was hesitating to tell you, he seemed downcast, that wasn't the Damian you knew, he would never have doubted anything

"You... you think I'm weird?"

A laugh came out of your lips and you started laughing like crazy, Damian had never seen you laugh so much in his life as now

"WHAT ARE YOU MAKE FUN OF, STUPID!, ugh I knew I shouldn't tell you, you never take anything seriously"

Damian crossed his arms looking at you angrily, I didn't understand what was funny about the situation, he was telling you something personal and you just... you just laughed!?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But seriously I've never heard anything so funny in my life"

You tried to stop laughing, you wiped away a tear that fell from your eye before you could speak

"Seriously you ask, of all people you ask me that?"

You said ironically looking at Damian, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked away

"Damian, we are vigilantes, there is nothing normal in our life, the strange thing would be if something was normal, you are literally the son of a very dangerous assassin and I am the daughter of a villain"

You let out a small laugh while saying that, but you saw that Damian's mood didn't change so you decided to get serious

"But hey, seriously, if you are weird but so what? We are all weird and you shouldn't be ashamed of that, I could say that I am weirder than you and I don't care"

Damian was surprised by your words, it was the first time he saw you talking seriously, he always thought you were too stupid and childish but what you just said really surprised him

"Thanks... I think"

"You're welcome, but don't be ashamed of being weird, let's be weird together, what do you think?"

You said giving him a smile as you put your arm around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, it was the first time you had gotten so emotionally close to Damian, you thought he hated you or something but apparently it was far from reality

"That... that's fine with me"

For a second you could see a small smile on Damian's face, that made your heart feel good

A few minutes passed before Damian spoke again

"You dare tell someone about this conversation and I'll cut your throat"

And there he was again the same old Damian, well at least those were the best minutes of your life before Damian went back to being Damian

"Whatever you say, Mr. weirdo"

You let out a laugh as you said those words

"I'M SERIOUS, YOU DARE TO TELL SOMEONE AND I'LL KILL YOU!"

Damian spoke angrily, punching you in the arm

"Hey! That's enough, but stop doing it... HEY, STOP IT, IT HURTS!!"

You shouted, trying to dodge Damian's punches. God, I think you missed the emo Damian...

I imagine the relationship between Damian and BatSis! Reader like that of gumball and anais, i love writing about them, they are so silly

(*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[whatsupsonnyboy]

Drunk in my mind | Joseph Quinn

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Joe and you (actress!reader) met during the filming of a romantic thriller, you two struggle to keep your undeniable chemistry professional. But when intimate scenes push your limits, the line between acting and reality begins to blur.

wc: 5.9K

warning: fluff, slow burn, co-stars to friends, friends to lovers, mentions of sex, swearing, overthinking, angst

a/n: heeeeeey, i know it's been ages, so sorry, but you know how life could be! anyway, i recently got lot of free time so i decided to pick up writing this precious man. This one just got on my mind while listening a podcast, originally it was going to be a one shot... looks like it's gonna be more parts to this! Hope you enjoy it 😌

Feedback is welcomed <3

request are open  | masterlist

part I | part II | part III

He was feeling really excited about the whole thing. The whole project was kind of a dream if he was honest, the story was captivating, the arc of his character was interesting and challenging and the chance to work with Mark as a director was more than anything he could have dreamt of. He felt like the whole universe was playing on his favour, as if it was saying “hey, here you have, you deserve it”, and that could only make him feel grateful and lucky. 

He had known since the very first moment he accepted the role who his co-star was going to be. He remembered how worked up he felt—the incredible chance to work with such a talented and young actress, someone with that kind of range. It was exciting, a little intimidating even. The thought of it made his heart race a bit. So when the two of you finally met, he couldn’t help but like you instantly.

And he had noticed that you liked him too. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, something neither of you had tried to hide. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though there was plenty of that. No, it was something deeper, a connection that he couldn’t quite put into words. There was an admiration there, something rooted in the way you thought, how you carried yourself, your mind… it fascinated him. And he felt that same spark from you, even if neither of you dared to acknowledge it fully. In an environment like that—so close, yet so professional—it was delicate. Neither of you wanted to be the first to cross a line that could jeopardize everything.

The first few days of filming were a blur of getting to know each other on screen, but it didn’t take long before it was clear you two clicked on a deeper level. Not even two weeks into the filming, and you had found yourselves spending almost all your breaks together. The quiet moments during meals, those late-night chats after a long day of work, felt like they meant something more than just passing time. You'd wander around the city on free days, both of you enjoying the shared silence between laughter and conversations that didn’t always make sense, but that somehow felt significant.

Joe would sometimes catch himself watching you when you weren’t looking, studying the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He’d love to listen to you for hours, about everything and nothing, and that feeling of connection lingered in the air between you. The way you made him feel heard, understood… it was rare. And judging by the way your gaze would linger on him, he could tell you felt the same.

But there was always that unspoken tension—the fragile balance between admiration and attraction, and the fear that crossing that line would change everything. Especially there, in that professional environment, where neither of you could afford to lose focus.

The more time he spent with you, the more he liked you. He found himself continually impressed by the way you worked—the passion you poured into every scene, the incredible talent you demonstrated even in the smallest moments. It wasn’t just your skill; it was your intensity, your energy, the way you approached everything with such genuine depth that it left him captivated. He couldn’t recall ever feeling that way about anyone else. Sure, he had admired colleagues before—he could still remember how stunned he had felt working with Denzel back in Gladiator, or the first time he shared a scene with Lupita. But none of that compared to what he felt now. This was something different, something unexplainable. And it was delightful. Getting to do a romance thriller for the first time while working with someone like you made everything feel effortless.

He found himself looking forward to every scene with you, not just because of the professional challenge but because of how naturally the two of you clicked. You seemed to challenge him in the best way, pushing him to reach new emotional depths, yet there was always this lightness between you both that made working together seem easy.

He had even forgotten about the sex scenes —the very thing that had made him hesitate when he first agreed to the movie. He had done intimate scenes before, of course, but this was different. When he had read the script, he had known it would be a whole new level of vulnerability. But as the filming drew closer, it felt almost like an inevitable tension was building between you two. It wasn’t just physical; it was mental, emotional, a strange but undeniable connection he couldn’t quite put into words.

Edith, the intimacy coordinator, had talked to both of you, together and separately, several times already. At first, it had made him feel calm, safe, almost like everything was under control. But the more time he spent with you, the more that sense of control started to slip away.

The idea of the two of you being semi-naked on a bed, pretending to have sex, sent a shiver down his spine. Not a bad one, not a good one either. No, it was something far more complicated. It felt… unprofessional, and yet it was so much more than that. The goosebumps that had run through him when you kissed him during the first take a few days ago… they had lingered. The memory of that kiss wasn’t just physical; it had settled deep in his stomach, making him question everything. And the worst part? He was afraid to be the only one who felt it.

He couldn’t let this happen. He liked you, of course… as an actress, as a co-worker, as a friend even. But that was all, right? He couldn't allow his body to suddenly want you in a way that went beyond professional respect. Oh God, he was feeling ridiculous. He was supposed to be a professional, and that’s how it had to stay. But how the hell was he supposed to act casual about you being above him, with nothing but a thin piece of cloth separating your bodies? Your breasts close to his face as your eyes locked with his, looking at him as if he was the only man in the world. How was he supposed to resist that?

He could certainly tell the difference between reality and acting. But how was he supposed to teach his body that distinction? The worst part was the guilt. Guilt because of how unprofessional he felt. Guilt because he had let this go so far without acknowledging what was happening inside of him. It had been so easy to let his guard down around you. He had felt so comfortable with you from the start, so at ease in your presence, that he hadn’t even stopped to question his own feelings. Now it felt like he’d jumped into this situation without looking at the consequences.

But now it was too late to undo those feelings. The scenes were scheduled to start early next week, and he had no idea how to handle this newfound tension between you. How was he supposed to manage those feelings—this raw attraction—within the next two days? He didn’t know if he could control it. Production had given the entire crew the weekend off, and he was left with two options: spend the weekend with you, in town, facing the intensity of his growing feelings, or retreat to London and try to pretend none of it existed.

He could already feel how difficult it would be to run away from this. Because it somehow felt like he was running, but taking a little space felt like the best, he could still book a flight, go back home and try to clear his head. Joe wasn’t sure that it would work, but at least he had to give it a try. 

It wasn’t something weird of you to appear out of nowhere in his hotel room with a pretty nice plan that would immediately convince him to get out of the hotel. But that night he was going to force himself to do things right. 

“What do you mean you can't?” you asked in a laugh. 

Joe tried to stop you at the door, but it was worthless. He couldn’t even articulate a word at the look you gave him as you made your way in his room. 

“You leaving?” you asked then. “Where you off to?” 

You looked at the carry-on luggage on the bed. All what he needed for a weekend out was already packed. 

“Home” Joe simply answered and the inquiring look in your eyes made him go on. “I thought it’d be nice to see my mum and friends”. 

“Oh, I see”.

You seemed disappointed, and Joe felt like there was something else you wanted to say so he remained silent. 

You didn't. 

“I’ll be here on Sunday night”.

Why had he said that? It felt like he was explaining himself, he needn’t, you hadn’t asked for it either. 

“Have a good weekend Joe” you said, with fake sympathy and left the room afterwards.

He couldn’t explain how awful he felt the moment he heard the door closing, or even why he was feeling that way. But he was not going to stay and figure it out, he would let that to Monday Joe. 

-

You couldn’t understand a single thing. It was nonsense. One day he would treat you like you were the most beautiful and fascinating creature in the entire planet, the next, he would run back to London without a single explanation. Not that he owed you one, because you two were nothing but co-workers. Explanations were for people who were romantically involved, weren’t they? And Joe and you were nothing like that. 

Because spending every single moment of your free time with him didn’t mean you felt anything for each other. It just meant, you liked each other, as co-workers. You just enjoyed each other's company in a job environment full of unknown people. 

It was nice to have him around. Somehow, it made you feel like you were just hanging out with someone you hadn’t seen in a while, as if your paths had crossed before, in another time, another place. Talking to him about anything felt effortless, like catching up with an old friend, which was a rare gift. He had that gift.

You had heard the rumors, of course you had. Almost everyone who had come across Joseph Quinn always used the same words: “nicest of the guys,” “damn funny,” “witty sense of humor,” and “incredibly sensitive.” And all of them were spot on. But it was more than that. You couldn’t help but admire how much he made you feel seen, how, despite the attention and praise that followed him, he managed to make you feel like you were the only one in the room when you spoke.

At first, you were simply delighted by how everything had aligned so perfectly. The chance to film a movie with Mark, one of the most promising directors in the current industry, was already a dream come true. And then there was Joseph Quinn, the charming, talented British actor whose reputation had already preceded him. From the very beginning, everything was going better than expected. Mark’s direction was an experience in itself—eccentric and demanding, but exciting and fulfilling all the same. But Joe… Joe was everything you could’ve dreamed of and more.

From the moment Heather, the casting director, introduced you to him, you felt a spark. That dreamy look in his eyes, the sunglasses perched atop his head, holding back the honey curls that were starting to grow long again, and that stupid, adorable accent that made your heart skip a beat. He was effortlessly charming, but it wasn’t just his looks or the humor he carried so naturally; it was the way he made you feel at ease, the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, listening to you as if your thoughts were as valuable as his own.

You could clearly remember the way your stomach flipped the first time he asked you how you were feeling after the first day of shooting. You had felt terrible, after a night of no sleep. Leaving home for a long time was always kind of torturous, especially when it meant sleeping in a bed that wasn’t yours. Such a small, silly thing, yet it had made everything feel off.

But you were sure your lack of sleep and the consequent irritability had gone unnoticed. Or at least you had thought so, until Joe insisted that something was wrong. You hadn’t expected him to notice —especially not so early, not after just one day of filming. But he had, and the way he looked at you, like he really cared, made you feel like you owed him a little real kindness in return. After all, he was the only one who’d truly seen through your facade, despite all your efforts to hide how miserable you were feeling that day.

You two had ended up in his room, ordering the fanciest food you could find on the service menu, and watching the first Netflix blockbuster you both could find on the smart TV. There was something calming about it.

You had fallen asleep quickly, almost immediately after a few spoonfuls of the seafood rice Joe had ordered. The need for rest was bigger than your hunger. And strangely, falling asleep in Joe’s bed had been incredibly easy, a stark contrast to the nightmare it had been to even try to fall asleep in your own room the night before. Maybe it was just exhaustion, maybe your body was begging for rest—maybe it was the warmth and scent of him next to you that made it feel like you were safe, like you weren’t alone in this strange place.

You remembered waking up to the sound of Joe’s alarm blaring, and the embarrassment quickly rushed through your body as you realized you had fallen asleep in the bed of a stranger who also happened to be your co-star. It felt like the worst possible thing in the world at that moment, but Joe didn’t seem to care at all. He emerged from the other side of the room, where there was a sofa-bed, and you realized he must have let you sleep alone while he stayed there, keeping his distance. His smile when he looked at you was warm and soft, the kind of smile that made you feel... something you couldn’t quite name. He asked if you had a good night, and you could only nod, still blushing a little, but now, with a hint of warmth spreading in your chest.

However, the night he disappeared you weren’t feeling delighted at all. You had almost felt abandoned. Absurd, you knew, but couldn’t help it. And that really pissed you off. Because you didn’t even have the right to feel like that. Joe was just your co-star, your almost friend maybe. So all the rage and the frustration were useless. 

You didn’t want to waste more time feeling like that, and you knew that if you stayed at the hotel the whole weekend, it would turn into endless hours of overthinking. So you fixed yourself internally, as if you had just gotten up from a fall and texted Sam. 

She was one of the supporting actors in the films, and she was really nice and fun. She loved being out so it meant you’d probably get no rest for the next 48 hours, but that was better than to go over and over the same thoughts in the loneliness of your hotel room. Alcohol and loud music seemed like a better choice.  

-

It hadn’t worked. He knew it the moment he was back to the filming location, he probably had known a long before he entered his hotel room, but opening the door of the suite made it land hard on his chest. There was that feeling all again, as it had never left, just had gone undercovered for a few hours. The terrible urge to go running to your room and kiss you, hold you, run his fingers through your hair as you rested your head on his chest. 

He was done. He was finished. All the repressed feelings and unsaid words were pressing on his chest like a ton of rocks, making it hard to think, to breathe. It was like the world had shrunk, and all that mattered was this impossible attraction, this desperate need to be near you. He couldn’t even remember feeling this helpless about anyone before. It was almost unbearable. 

He hadn’t said a word about it back home, maybe he should have talked about it with a friend, could have helped… but he had been so determined to be distracted about the whole thing, that going over the matter hadn’t really been an option. It had probably been a childish choice, but regretting it then, in the loneliness of his hotel room, within a few hours to go and face reality, was pointless. 

Someone was knocking the door just a couple hours after he had finally been able to fall asleep. Getting to sleep decently had turned into an impossible mission with hundreds of intrusive thoughts constantly hunting his mind. And now, he would not only feel miserable, he would look like it too. Edith instantly pointed it out the moment he opened the door. Not helping at all. 

She was there to talk to him before getting to the set, Joe knew she was going to be there, he also knew he was going to talk to you after. Another talk for you two was awaiting the moment before entering the set. So he kind of knew he could still do something… maybe he could talk about how not exactly comfortable he was feeling about the sex scenes, but how was he supposed to do that. First, those scenes weren’t exactly the problem. Second, then what? What was he expecting to happen? 

Joe ran again through every single fake scenario that had haunted him for the last weeks while he was showering and getting ready. Edith was waiting in the living area of the suite, and as soon as he heard Joe out of the bathroom she started with the questions. 

“How was your weekend off?” she politely asked.

“Mm, great” he simply replied. He knew the small talk was her way of not jumping straight into asking about being ready to get naked in front of a camera. “How about you? You get some rest?”. He asked, trying to not be a dick with her. 

Edith explained how she hadn’t fully taken the days off, though she’d rested a bit. She spent most of the time working on the shooting protocol and handling some logistics. She told Joe they were aiming to wrap up everything in one day, two at most. She mentioned details about the environment—how she’d been adamant about lighting, the silence during the shoot, and limiting the crew in the room.

Despite knowing she was saying all those things to make it look like a friendlier scenario, it just had the opposite effect on Joe. When he entered the room Edith was in, she didn’t even try to hide the concern in her face at Joe’s appearance. 

“Are you feeling alright, Joe? If you feel sick or something we could talk to Mark and postpone everything”. Her tone was soft, and for a second Joe really thought about it. 

He could play sick. He could try to slip out of the situation for at least two or three more days… maybe he could fix his mind. Try to put in order some thoughts and see things in a different way. But that wouldn’t work unless he talked to you about it. That was what he had to do. Confront his feelings about you and explain how fucking nervous, no. How fucking sick it made him the idea of getting an erection in the middle of filming, and how violent it would be for you and for him, and for everyone in the damn room. Maybe you would be comprehensive. Maybe you would even laugh about it. Or maybe you would think that Joe was a complete idiot, an unprofessional guy who couldn’t take control of his own body for a few hours. 

“No”. He hissed, almost unconsciously. “No, I… just need to eat something” he lied. “I’m fine”. 

Edith raised an eyebrow, skeptical. It was like she could hear every word of his internal struggle. She pressed on, asking if something was worrying him. Joe shook his head, offering no further explanation. She didn’t want to push, but he could feel her concern. She then mentioned she’d be there for the whole shoot, that he could ask her for anything he needed to feel more comfortable. She even casually suggested a jockstrap if that was something he was worried about.

Before leaving Joe’s room he specifically mentioned how she knew that these scenes could be stressful, and sometimes even awkward, but that he could totally trust her about anything he didn’t really feel like doing. He also told Joe that lots of actors have a hard time about getting unwanted erections, but that was something really natural, because despite him being an actor, his body didn’t necessarily acknowledge that. She concluded by assuring him that everything was going to work just fine and left Joe to go to your room. 

Joe didn’t really know how to feel about that information, it somehow made him feel better and at the same time made him more anxious to become one of those actors she was talking about. 

-

Saying Joe looked terrible was an understatement. He looked sick, pale, distant. You’d tried asking him, but he responded with nothing more than a monosyllabic grunt, eyes averted. The coldness, the avoidance— it rattled you. What had changed? Why was he acting like this now?

First, the sudden withdrawal, and now, the silent treatment. It made no sense. Especially now, when you were on the verge of exposing yourself in front of him. It made the whole situation even more uncomfortable. You needed this to be over, more than ever.

Edith offered a few more directions, calming words, and encouragement before the two of you stepped onto the set. The space was intimate: Edith, Mark, a few techs, Laura and Henry —just the essentials. The air buzzed with anticipation, but it didn’t throw you off. You’d done this before. You’d been through much more explicit scenes. And Mark and Edith had been nothing but professional and supportive, so the only thing that made you nervous was Joe.

Neither of you exchanged a word while Mark ran through the sequence, explaining the shots and movements. You nodded in unison, your eyes never meeting his.

Minutes later, you were pinned against the wall, Joe above you, his body hovering just an inch from yours, his hands firm but cold—one gripping your arm, the other on your hip. His touch felt distant, almost mechanical, and when your eyes met his, you caught a flash of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness? Anxiety? But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

You both stood silent as Mark called “ACTION.” Joe delivered his lines. You laughed on cue, and then he leaned in for the kiss. This time, his lips found yours with such intensity, it startled you —a hungry, almost desperate kiss that stirred something deep within your stomach. You didn’t have to fake it. The chemistry was still there, you could feel it, even if you both had to keep up appearances for the crew.

But the more you kissed, the more strained his body became. His hands were tense. The roughness in his touch grew harder, sharper. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like how he used to kiss you, with that mix of admiration and passion. It was stiff, forced. Something was off.

The rest of the scene went downhill. Joe seemed to withdraw further as the shots progressed. His body, rigid as a board, betrayed every word he spoke. The tension was palpable. When it came time for the bed scene, the air felt suffocating.

You straddled him, your torso barely covered by the robe. His gaze never left your body, but his eyes held no warmth, no connection. Instead, they were guarded, cold. As you lowered yourself onto him, he swallowed hard, his whole body stiffening beneath yours.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. His discomfort was suffocating.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, despite the growing unease.

He nodded, a faint, bitter look crossing his face before he turned his gaze away from you.

Before you could speak again, Mark gave the signal to get into character. The cameras rolled, and you tried to keep your focus. But God, it was so painfully obvious.

You shed your robe, and when Joe let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, the silence in the room felt deafening. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The whole scene felt like it was falling apart.

You repeated your lines, but Joe’s response was hollow, distant. He ran a hand over his face, visibly frustrated, but still unwilling to acknowledge what was happening.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, his voice low but lacking conviction. "Let’s start over, I—I wasn’t ready. My bad.”

You did it again, hoping that maybe, this time, things would fall into place. But when you leaned in for the kiss, he was stiff—his lips barely responding, his movements robotic. The chemistry was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable stiffness that everyone in the room could sense.

Mark stopped the scene, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on? This is not the energy we’ve had for weeks. Where’s the chemistry?" His voice cut through the tension like a knife.

You both stood there, silent, trying to navigate the gap that had appeared between you, both of you utterly confused by the growing chasm between your previous connection and the awkwardness that now stood between you.

You tried again, but after a couple of failed attempts, the scene became more and more artificial. Joe’s responses were mechanical, his body unyielding, the chemistry as absent as it had ever been. Mark, now visibly frustrated, demanded answers, but neither of you had any to give.

By the sixth attempt, Joe couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved you aside, freed himself from your hold, and pulled his robe around his body. His face was twisted in anger, his frustration spilling over as he muttered under his breath.

"This is ridiculous," he spat, walking away, leaving you and the crew behind, still trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

Mark instantly followed Joe out of the set, maybe to try to talk to him or to calm him down, but it was clear that something had broken. Everyone in the room fell silent, watching as Joe stormed out. It was like the tension in the air was a living thing, pressing down on everyone. You felt paralyzed for a moment, unsure of how to react. He wasn’t like this at all. You had never seen Joe like this—nervous, frustrated, and overwhelmed. It was as though he had completely closed off from you, and you couldn’t understand why.

You stood there, holding your robe, feeling utterly exposed in every way. It wasn’t just the physical vulnerability of the scene—it was emotional too. Joe’s behavior had sent a confusing signal, and suddenly the chemistry that had felt so natural seemed impossible to grasp.

Edith was quick to approach you. “Take five,” she said softly, gesturing towards the corner of the set. “We’ll give him some space. Let’s reset.”

You nodded silently, walking away from the set as the crew murmured among themselves. They were all so professional, but you could tell they were uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the awkwardness of the scene anymore—it was Joe, and the way he was falling apart in front of everyone.

You found yourself in the small lounge area, sitting down, trying to breathe through the confusion. What had happened? What was wrong with Joe?

It wasn’t long before Edith came over to sit beside you. “You okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

You wanted to tell her that you were fine. You weren’t. But you didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

“Do you think he’s okay?” You finally asked, your voice tight. “I mean… is he...?”

Edith hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said gently. “He’s been off the whole morning. He seemed like he was pushing something down, but I didn’t want to pry.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up again. This whole situation felt so... off. Everything was supposed to be smooth. The chemistry, the camaraderie, the work—it had all been seamless until now. And now, it was like a wall had gone up between you and Joe, and you had no idea how to break it down.

“We’ll talk to him,” Edith said, after a moment. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Just try to take a break. Don’t overthink it.”

You nodded, but your mind raced. It didn’t make sense. What was going on with Joe? Why couldn’t he just talk to you?

After a few minutes, Mark came in, looking more serious than ever. “We’ll have to reschedule for tomorrow,” he said, eyes scanning the room. “Take a break, everyone. I’ll talk to Joe, and we’ll figure out where we go from here. I don’t want to push this.”

With that, the set slowly emptied, leaving you alone in the quiet of the lounge. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something was wrong, and you had no idea how to fix it.

On the way back to the hotel Edtih tried to talk to you again but you weren’t feeling like it, so you politely refused and went to your room alone. You needed to rest for real. You needed a shower and to hide under your bed until it was 2026. You were feeling ridiculous, exposed, frustrated… you were not even sure why you were feeling like that, no one, not even Joe said that any of it had been your fault, but yet you were feeling responsible. 

And that overwhelming feeling made you more upset if it was possible, because it was truly unfair. You were not irrational though, you knew you couldn’t blame Joe for the way you felt, but at the same time he had been a dick for the last 72 hours or so… how could you not feel as if you had done something wrong. Maybe you had, you could deal with that, but why wouldn’t he come clean about whatever the hell was upsetting him? 

You couldn’t stand being in your room all alone chewing over the same thoughts, you needed answers, so if Joe wouldn’t be brave enough to talk this out, you were. You put on some jeans and a hoodie and with your hair still wet you left your suite and walked to Joe’s. 

Maybe he wasn’t even there, he should have since he had claimed to not be able to keep up with the shooting. But it didn’t matter, you were determined to talk to him even if you had to wait there for hours. 

He gasped your name when he opened the door, eyes widening in genuine surprise. He didn’t look as bad as he had this morning —but he still wasn’t quite himself.

"We need to talk," you said, but Joe didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

"Joe, seriously."

"I… I wouldn’t even know what to say," he confessed. At least this time, he looked at you.

"Well, I do. So at least you're going to listen."

He didn’t argue. He just stood there, silent, watching as you walked past him into the living area. When he finally followed, he sat on the armchair across from you. Something about that —his distance, his passiveness— made your anger flare.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joseph Quinn." Your voice was sharp, cutting through the silence.

Joe opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"How dare you? What kind of psychopath makes me believe he cares, that he's comfortable with me, that we're friends—only to turn around and act like none of it meant anything? What was it, Joe? Just a game? A fucking joke?"

"I care about you," he whispered, but you weren’t done.

"Oh, you care? Funny, because all I see is someone who’s been acting like a complete asshole for days. And for what? I don’t even fucking know. But you know what I do know? That this —whatever the hell this is— is cruel."

Joe stared at you, his expression unreadable. Not a single word. No excuses. No explanations. It was infuriating.

"And now, you just sit there like you have nothing to say? Nothing about the filming, about this morning, about how I fucking feel?" Your voice was rising, the frustration pushing you past your breaking point. "How could you do that?"

Joe finally stood up, his movements restless, his frustration mirroring yours.

"You want me to talk?"

"Of course I fucking do!"

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room, looking as torn apart as you felt.

"Then you should know—I was never pretending. Never," he shot back, his voice raw. "I do fucking care about you. You're important to me, okay?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "Then act like it."

Joe exhaled sharply. "I don’t know how, alright? I already told you—I don’t know what to say. What do you want from me?"

"The truth, Joe. That’s all I fucking want." Your voice cracked, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t anger driving you. It was exhaustion. Defeat. "I just want you to be honest about what’s wrong with you. With us."

Joe looked away. His silence was worse than any argument.

That was it.

Your chest ached as you turned to leave, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay. Joe said your name in a whisper, but you didn’t stop. He called it again, louder, but you kept walking.

You were almost at the door when you felt his hand wrap around your arm. Firm, but not rough. Desperate.

"Let me go, please," you whispered, voice shaking.

Joe didn’t move.

"Joe, please."

He heard it then—the way your voice broke completely. The way you were crying, whether you wanted to or not.

"Look at me," he begged. "Please."

You couldn’t. Instead, a quiet sob escaped, and your body gave up fighting. That was all Joe needed to pull you in, his arms locking around you. You didn’t resist.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, again and again, his voice breaking as he held you tighter.

You turned in his hold, but instead of meeting his gaze, you buried your face in his chest, hands gripping his shirt. He cradled the back of your head, his touch tender in a way that made it worse.

Because he still wouldn’t say what you needed to hear.

[chiacanwritesometimes]

everybody adores you, at least i do.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

based on “everybody adores you (quiet)” by matt maltese :)

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

authors note: i wrote this after listening to ^^^ on repeat, god i love matt maltese. there are scenes of alcohol intake, a panic attack and brief self harm. please dni if these topics bother, trigger, or make you uncomfortable. this was a pretty long drabble, hope you enjoy :D

============

you can act all shy, but you know that i want you.

you aren’t one for flattery, that much was obvious. every time bucky took the time to compliment you, he knew what your next words would be. like clockwork, you would turn red, look away, and sheepishly mutter, “thanks”. you fiddled with your hands, and quickly changed the subject. how desperately he wanted to hold your hands, and kiss them. for years, he pined over you, and you’ve always been almost at his grasp. these past couple of weeks though, it seemed to hit you, that he wanted you.

in the dead of night, i want to live with you.

it all started three years ago, after everyone came back from the blip. people were everywhere, and it seemed that all the noise that lacked from the world came back in an instant. after realizing what happened to you, your environment and your home, you couldn’t help but laugh. how comical, that it seemed like nothing changed. your family hadn’t contacted you, well, the distant family that you still had. you walked to a bar in the hazy hours of the night, and met him. some guys were bothering him about his glove, but he seemed unaffected. he just stared ahead, and drank his whiskey. you devised a plan, to distract the assholes and to maybe introduce yourself. you didn’t want to seem like you were trying to pick him up, but you were trying to make friends in this new world. you asked the bartender quietly to escort the two loud drunks out, and sat down next to him. you didn’t think you’d get this far, so you were at a loss on what to say. did people still talked the same five years later? of course they did, but how do you navigate yourself into talking? your thoughts piled up, and they kept piling up, until his gruff voice interrupted them.

“thanks.” he grumbled quietly.

“hm?” you didn’t catch what he said, as you were too distracted. he cleared his throat.

“i said thanks. for the, yeah.” he pointed to the two men outside. he wasn’t much for words, you realized. you sighed in relief and nodded.

“yeah, dont sweat it.”

he offered to walk you home, as a sign of gratitude. it amused you both that you lived in the same building. small world. you invited him inside, but he hesitated.

“we can take a rain check, if you’d like. ill write you my number.” you assured him, and walked inside to grab a post it. what were you doing? giving a stranger your number? you put those thoughts to rest as you wrote your number.

he awkwardly waited at the half open door. he was glad to have made a…friend? he didn’t know what to call you yet, but he was sure to catalogue you at the back of his mind to let his witch of a therapist know. over the next couple of weeks, you had began to know him better. he had a cat, alpine. he had a past that he wasn’t open to sharing. his apartment was empty, almost ready to be left without a tenant at any moment. he froze at your touch, so you made a mental note to not do that. what a strange person. you knew he disappeared during the blip as well, but you felt as if he had lost more than five years.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

a year had passed for your friendship. you came to his apartment, unexpected, and brought two little cupcakes with candles on them.

“what’s this?” he asked, a little embarrassed to be touched by such a small little gesture.

“its our friendship anniversary, goofy.”

“do we sing happy birthday, or what?” you paused. you weren’t sure, you didn’t really think of singing.

“um, we can have toasts if you’d prefer that. yes, toasts! ill get the glasses.” you sprung to your feet and gracefully navigated yourself in his small kitchen. you had spruced up his place a little, buying him hand towels, candles, and little trinkets that make a house a home, or rather, an apartment into a cozier place to live. you brought the two flutes, and filled them with champagne. he frowned.

“that is definitely not mine.”

“i brought it to celebrate, we need something fancy.” he rolled his eyes, but went along to your little celebration. he sat on his couch and observed you placing the cupcakes on the coffee table, and as you passed him his glass.

“ill go first. um…” you didn’t want to admit that you had started liking him, so you decided to say general statements.

“i hadn’t had a friend since, high school? maybe…so thank you for letting me be yours. err, friend, that is. to many more.” you clinked your glass with his, and motioned for him to go next.

“my last friend died a year ago. you haven’t died yet, so cheers to that.” he said dryly, with a little smile on his face. he thought he was so funny. he clinked his glass with yours, and drank the liquid. you rolled your eyes and mirrored him.

you started watching a movie with him, but you weren’t really paying attention. he started to accept your touch more and more, and you watched the movie with your head leaning on his shoulder. he leaned his head on yours, and tried his best to not move, so as to not bother you. the second act of the movie was commencing, and he had something on his mind. he had to fess up eventually about who he is- who he was, that is. someone he no longer was, someone he despised so vehemently.

“doll?” he tested the waters. he started calling you that, a reminder of how much of a casanova he was when he was in high school. you protested but eventually let him continue calling you that, as it was more effort telling him to stop than you cared to give.

“mm?” you hummed softly, half asleep.

“i wasn’t joking about my toast.”

“i didn’t think you were. you don’t have to talk about it if you don-“

“i want to talk about it.”

you paused. this was rare. you didn’t know what to think, so you gave him the space to talk.

“there’s a reason i’m always wearing this glove, you know.”

“yeah, circulation problems.” you joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“doll, i was born in 1917.”

“…” you sat up. “what? james, you’re not being funny right now.”

he continued tentatively.

“my name is james buchanan barnes and i was born in march 10, 1917.” he recited as if giving a memorized speech, his monotone words hitting you, syllable by syllable.

“i was forced to be the winter soldier, and i was framed for the U.N bombing.” your facial expression must’ve hinted that you put the pieces together, and he stopped.

“and, yeah. i have a metal arm.” he added almost rushed, he wanted to explain that part as well. he gave you space to fully digest everything.

“so…your friend that died was…” he nodded.

“steve rogers.” he finished for you.

“wow.” you didn’t know what to say, you just sat there. everything made so much sense now, why he always wore a glove, why he never had any pictures of friends or family, nothing. suddenly, you smiled.

“doll?” he looked confused. your best friend admitted to lying about his identity to your face for a year, and you’re…smiling?

“the first friend i made in ten years is someone who’s older than me by eighty years.” you giggled.

“i don’t- you’re not mad?” his brain short circuited. you’re not responding the way he thought you would’ve. you shook your head.

“i mean, what kind of friend am i for you not to be able to trust me with that? yeah, im a little blindsided, but i understand. i still see you as my friend.”

he didn’t know what to do. tears threatened to fall.

“pay attention to this part, its my favorite.” you leaned back to your original position, as if nothing happened. you offered your hand, and he took it.

don't modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

“dont look at me like that.” you said, a little tipsy. you had been friends with him for two years now, and you had invited him over to your apartment, for new year’s. you both didn’t really have any plans, or friends, for that matter. of course, he had sam, but sam was with his sister for the new year. he had barged into your apartment with a six case of beer on him, and two little paper hats saying, “happy new year!”. how adorable. you weren’t dressed up, gracing yourself with an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. you sat on the couch with your legs on his lap, his flesh hand holding his beer and his metal hand holding you. he traced small circles on your calves, which felt really intimate. you’re grateful he used his metal hand, because you weren’t sure what you would’ve done if he used his skin to tease you so.

“like what?” he asked. his tone was quiet, his eyes searching for permission in yours. permission for what?

“like you want to kiss me.”

“and what if i do?” there it was. you didn’t want to ruin any friendship you still had left after he threw that bombshell. you paused and looked away. you took another sip of your beer.

“i’m afraid i’ll have to decline your advances.” you quietly said. its not that you didn’t love him, but it all felt so wrong. the only reason he wanted to kiss you was because it was the new year, and that stupid fucking tradition.

“you know i could get lost in those eyes. i’d trip over my words trying to find my way back.” he admitted. he really did love you. god, he loved you.

“if you keep looking at me like that, i might think that you have a crush on me.” you teased, face red. from the intimacy or from the alcohol? you weren’t sure, maybe it was both.

“and what if i did?”

“bucky…” you sighed. you sat up and moved your legs away from him.

“i mean it. would that be such a crime?” he leaned his body towards you. you noticed that his cheeks had their own hue of red, and his eyes felt unsure.

“bucky.” you cut him off. you didn’t know what to say. its not like you could say, “i dont want you to kiss me for new year’s, because i want you to kiss me for real.” you didn’t know what to say, so you just shook your head slightly. he nodded, stood up, and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“i understand.” he whispered into your ear. you bit your lip, this was the friendliest he had ever been towards you, and you only wished for more. he smiled softly and said,

“happy new year, y/n.”

right where the black wood sighs, i look at you, through and through.

your birthday was coming up, and he decided to surprise you. he researched thoroughly about forests located next to you, and found the one. things had been a little rough post new year’s eve, but your connection through knowing who he was kept the friendship close. you soon were back to your old self, but remained a bit guarded.

your birthday was today. you hadn’t received any messages from him, so you felt a bit let down. you sighed throughout the day as you kept checking. suddenly, around 2 in the afternoon, he knocked on your door with a basket in hand, and flowers in the other.

“happy birthday, doll.”

it’s safe to say that you spent the rest of your day very content, and impressed at the picnic he had organized.

right where your father died I'll hold on to your hand.

you don’t remember much from your father, other than the fact that he died early in your youth. you detested seeing children with both their parents with them, even as an adult. you felt jealous, angry at your father for dying. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but still. you occasionally visited his grave, and the place where he passed on. it was a rainy day, the day he went with you. you asked him to go, as you weren’t feeling so well. he obliged.

the downpour matched the dreary mood, and as you stood near the bench he died on, a bench he felt was familiar. he started to panic, thinking that somehow he was the one responsible for the death of your father, wondering if you taking him here was some sort of ploy to avenge your father.

“he got caught in the crossfire of a crime.” you admitted. “police were chasing this guy, and he meant to shoot the…” you trailed off. he knew what you were trying to say and he nodded. he sighed, partly from the mood and partly from relief that he wasn’t the one that took him from you. you took his hand and held it. he squeezed your hand, and rubbed circles on your knuckles.

“thank you.” what an odd thing for him to say to you, but you knew that he meant for taking him to a place so sacred to you.

“now we’re even.” you smiled at him. no more secrets about the past.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

panic attacks didn’t hit him often. it was around two weeks since his last one, and it wasn’t something he wasn’t thinking of at the time, until now.

he spent so much time at your place, so much in fact, that some of his mail correspondence was sent to your place by the mailman. how silly. he was over for some random dinner, and conversed with you as you cooked. you were making spicy chicken alfredo, or something along those lines. he didn’t really pay attention, he only focused on you. he noticed how fluid you were in the kitchen, as if you were dancing. when he thought you were going to run into a cabinet, you moved away just in time. wether that be for your reflexes or by chance, he wasn’t sure. he had shared with you a couple vinyls, a way of sharing his past with you. he hummed along to the smooth voice of ella fitzgerald, until you interrupted the noise with a yelp of pain. he turned to you, and noticed you had cut your finger with the knife, which confirmed to him that in fact, the reason you didn’t run into cabinets was by chance, maybe some guardian angel working overtime. he kissed your finger, and walked to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. everything was going so well, too. its just a small setback. until, he came back.

you looked to be covered in blood everywhere, with a heavy concentration on your torso. there was a gunshot in your stomach area, and you hunched over the cabinet for support. at least, that is what he saw. in reality, you leaned on the cabinet, waiting for him. his heart dropped and his eyes scanned you so worriedly. he ran to you, inspected your arms, your eyes, your neck, your stomach. your confused expression felt almost like daggers at him, and he started hyperventilating. he felt hands all around him, suffocating him. he knelt to the ground, gasping for air. his hair started clinging to his forehead, his clothes suddenly felt too tight, the air felt too hot, his metal arm too familiar. did he do this? he kept thinking. he heard a voice, his voice, but different. it was him.

“of course you did this.” he said, full of poison. tears fell down his eyes, and they kept falling, even when he shut them so tightly. he clawed at his metal arm, at his reminder of who he was.

you tried your best to make him realize that you were there, and in fact, not dead. no matter your volume, he couldn’t hear you. he was rocking back and forth, and you kneeled to his eyeline.

“bucky?” you kept saying. you kept repeating, kept trying to open his eyes, move his hand from hurting his shoulder. soon, your hands were stained with the blood drawn from where metal met skin. you sat with him, and listened to his cries. you didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t discussed panic attacks with you, so you weren’t sure if you could hold him or not. you decided to take a risk and rub his back, and lean your head on top of his. a few minutes were spent like that, his quiet sobs filling the apartment. eventually, he calmed down enough to the point of hugging you, and whispered “i’m sorry”. that’s all he said, and he kept saying it. his face was nuzzled into your neck, and he kept saying that. your hands held him tightly, your own tears falling as well. he stopped hurting himself, but seeing him in this state broke your heart. you knew why seeing you bleeding affected him so badly. he didn’t often tell you of all the people he killed, but when he did, he was always filled with immense grief. you’d always remind him that it wasn’t really him, and that he didn’t have body autonomy. those words, although comforting, felt like a lie. he was scared you believed differently, thought of him differently. your words and your touch remained the same, though. after his panic subsided, you led him to the sink, and washed his hands. you cleaned his wounds, and wrapped them with gauze. you asked him to stay at your place, and he accepted. you set his bed, and gave him some spare clothing you had. he sat down next to you, and watched you lay down, before looking at you. his blue eyes looked into yours, asking for permission. you held your arms up, and he instantly moved. he laid on top of you, almost tentatively. you ran your fingers through his hair, and he adjusted himself on top of you, holding your waist. no words were exchanged.

you two never spoke of that moment.

don’t modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

three years had passed since you first crossed paths, and he wanted to be the one to initiate the celebration. he didn’t know how surprise you, you two had already done a lot of things. picnics, dinners, sleepovers. he realized he needed to buy a gift. what should he get you? you already had enough jewelry, you always went thrift shopping with him, and you seemed pretty content with everything you had. it clicked in his mind. he got you a photo album for your pictures, and a star projector, showing how the stars looked like on the day you first met. he felt nervous, he hadn’t felt this close to someone in a while, and he was scared to ruin it.

you spent the anniversary gushing over your gift, and kept complimenting him throughout that night. his fears for being a bad friend were eased.

everybody has you up on their wall sometimes.

he wasn’t one for photography. his walls were bare, aside from the decorations you bought for him. you, however, loved your polaroid camera. you took pictures of anything you deemed important, like meeting someone with a similar outfit to yours, a cat you saw on the street, and him. you deemed him important, and he had to pretend like that wasn’t the biggest compliment ever. he had to pretend that every time you snapped a picture of him, he wasn’t blushing so hard, and how he loved being your muse. he started putting more effort into his appearance, so you would take more pictures. you noticed, of course you noticed. you had to keep a solid stream of film. one day, he held your camera. he often wondered how you saw the world, and seeing the little window in the polaroid camera made him smile. you were comically posing in the couch, giggling with every new pose. he clicked away, happily. he then sheepishly asked for a serious picture, for his new collection. well, your picture would be the first in the collection. how fitting, that you would be the one to star in the little joy you shared with him. your face flushed a bit as you sat up and smiled softly at him. he swallowed his nervousness, and took the picture. as he let it develop, he walked away, leaning on the wall. he didn’t want to let you see how red he was. you didn’t know if you were friends or not. of course, you were friends, but you weren’t sure if you were more. you walked to where he was, took the picture from him and placed it on a side table. you grabbed the camera from his hand, and tossed it lightly to your couch. you looked at his lips, his eyes, his scars. you lifted your hand and traced his eyebrows, his nose, his chin, his jawline. his eyes fluttered shut, as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. he pulled you closer, as if you were the air he so desperately needed to breathe, as if you were the water in the middle of the desert. he held you so gently, leaning you against the wall. he leaned his lips towards yours, but didn’t press forward. he just breathed deeply, breathing you in. you looked up at him.

“bucky?” you asked softly, as to not shatter the moment.

“please. you’re all i have ever wanted these three years. i’ve been…you’re…” he couldn’t find the words. he grew a little frustrated at his lack of ways to express himself.

“i love you. from the minute i knew you, from new year’s, every birthday, every anniversary. please, y/n. i need you, like i need air, like i need water, like i need…you.” his eyes looked into yours, waiting for a response in the almost deafening silence.

you leaned forward, kissed him, and were made his that night.

everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night.

he liked waking up next to you. he liked the way your hair ruffled up because of the pillow. he loved the way your eyelashes fluttered when you opened your eyes, and your sleepy smile greeted him.

“good morning, bucky.” you would say.

“dreams?” he’d reply. if you had any dreams, you’d go on in detail about them, and if not, you’d shrug and say,

“my subconscious took the night off.”

he’d tuck your hair behind your ear, and kiss you. how wonderful, that he was able to kiss you, show you how much you meant to him, make you his. how serendipitous, that the first words he ever said to you were “thank you.” fate knew. you knew.

when I say, "everybody", i'm actually referring to mе.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)

Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.

Gaz was always an expert on knots. 

Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…

— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’ 

He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift. 

You’re a bloody gift. 

— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye? 

Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right? 

You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s. 

Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in. 

You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic. 

Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you. 

Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should. 

— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us. 

— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart? 

You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight. 

Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.

Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh? 

— Sergeants outdid themselves this time. 

— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love? 

Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.

[ellievickstar]

Lover’s Lullaby

A/N: Here’s part 3 of Bloodied Bonds, Part 2 is here, I hope you guys love this as much as I did, I put so much effort into this and I do genuinely apologise for the length of time it took for me to get this out. Thank you so much for waiting I love you all and I hope you guys enjoy!! <3

Summary: Decisions have been made, hearts have been shattered, but can Azriel finally save his beloved?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying, self-sacrificing thoughts

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You have considered what I said,” She smiled at Azriel, but what once looked sweet and soft now seemed calculated and manipulative.

Azriel went nauseous at the thought of what Elain may have done if the bond had not countered the more extreme effects of the aphrodisiac. Thanking the Mother that all he had done with Elain was hold her hand and even hen he wanted to burn his hands all over again at the very thought.

He really was a dirty low born Illyrian.

And he had not deserved you.

“What do you want from us Elain?” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes brimming with anger.

“Get your fangs away from me Rhysand, do not think for a second that you are in a position to demand for anything,” Elain grinned, “After all, I know how to counter your daemati powers, Azriel himself taught me the basics.”

Casting a glance at Azriel, Rhysand noticed how he had paled significantly, gawking at Elain to remember when he had taught her anything of the sort. Cassian looked all but ready to leap at Elain and tear her to shreds. Rhysand was inclined to do the same.

“Just tell us what you want, Elain,” Cassian ground out. He was tired, sick and tired of being played in this game the middle Archeron sister was playing. He wanted out, desperately.

And he was not even the damned male she wanted.

In all honesty, if this situation had not been as dire as it was, Cassian would have been teasing Azriel for finally being able to attract the females around him.

“I want protection. A guarantee that I will continue to live here, protected by Azriel no matter what,” She smiled sinisterly, “I want a bargain saying that if I tell you how to save your mate you will guard me with your life.”

“But that would mean-“ “Exactly.” Elain smiled again, her amusement dancing in her eyes, malice growing on her face even with the grin plastered on.

Realisation dawned on the three males all at once.

No matter what, Elain would always torment their lives, this bargain only made it that much harder to get rid of her. But it would save his mate…and break her heart at the same time.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel spent half a day agonising over the decision. Rhysand had opted to isolating himself in his study once more and Cassian took his frustration out on a training dummy.

Why?

Why did it have to come to this.

When did it all go wrong?

Cassian wanted to blame himself, in fact a part of him did feel guilty. While helping the Archeron sisters to integrate into their world they had shut her out, and despite her best attempts to assist in any way, Y/N had always been unable to fit in. Like a flip had been switched, he finally recalled every moment where he saw her expressions change, where she masked her pain, her hurt, just to accommodate to them.

After all this time, eventually she had protected them and they had to pay for it. For not noticing.

Wanting to punch himself was an understatement.

Cassian gave his all to the training dummy, recalling how Elain acted, how when Y/N was near Elain would always be cold, how Y/N always dismissed it as just Elain being hostile to her environment, how when Y/N lashed out because she was tired of being treated like shit by Elain, Cassian, Rhysand and Azriel had all stood by Elain and called Y/N unreasonable at first.

Unreasonable.

And now she was dying.

Falling to his knees, Cassian buried his face in his hands, his hair falling over his face as his hair and snapped, and thunder roared above him.

And just like that, he let his tears pour free for his friend, his only sister, he let his sorrow come loose and he cried.

The general of the Night Court, cried.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Rhysand had was familiar with pain.

He had felt pain when his mother was murdered, he had felt pain when Amarantha had tried to torture him during the first war. He had felt pain in war camps and felt pain every single time Cassian punched his face for being stupid or just because of a stupid fight.

Rhysand was familiar with pain.

However, as he sat in the corner of his study, as he curled up against the wall, his head bent over, leaning against the brick, his heart ached. Ached in a way he was more than familiar with but was devastingly painful anyways.

Rhysand had always felt pain.

But as he thought of his sister, at everything she meant to him, at every single time she had called him stupid, told him he was a jerk, every time they cried together, every time they fought with each other, every time they fought for each other.

Rhysand could not stop the pain.

Not as his eyes hurt from crying so much, not even as he tried to curl further into the corner, trying to imagine her warm hug when he was first used by Amarantha. For the first time in centuries Rhysand realised how easily he could lose his sister. Even as he gagged from not easting, even as his legs went numb from sitting in the same position, even when the sky went dark, Rhysand sat there.

“Come home, little star,” He whispered into the darkness, “We can go to your favourite bookstore, I’ll let you put me in a dress again, I’ll even let you put make up and jewellery on me,” He let out another choked sob.

“Just come home.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

When the decision was made, Azriel slowly went to Elain’s room in the dead of the night. Elain stirred softly before she came aware of his presence.

“I will make the bargain with you, but only with one condition,” Azriel spoke softly.

“And that is?” Elain purred.

“The bargain will only be effective if she lives. Because if she does not survive this, I think I would die anyways,” He replied softly. At least this way, his starlight would be safe. His mate would have to live.

“Fine,” Elain shrugged.

And just like that, a tattoo burned onto Azriel’s ankle, and as he glanced down, he saw the outline of a bloodied rose, thorns and all.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“What in the world,” Cassian breathed.

Azriel had done it, he had made the bargain and now knew how to save Y/N. However, as Azriel explained how it should be done to both him and Rhys, the plan seemed a little…..volatile.

“So we’re supposed to use Rhysand’s daemati powers to enter her subconsciousness, and travel into her mind where it’s probably sitting there thinking she’s asleep, manipulate her subconsciousness to make introduce her to a dreamscape, and from there materialise a dream version in her head of ourselves in order to explain to her this entire mess and convince her that Azriel still loves her?” Cassian repeated.

The long winded explanation was….long, but it did summaries what they were going to attempt. Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently as he weighed his options, the plan did seem viable, not something that he had done before, but viable.

The only problem now was….

“Who’s going in to talk to her?” Rhys asked.

How would someone go in and convince his dying sister that her mate, who she thinks cheated on her, still loves her? Who would be the best choice in this?

Pacing from one side of the room to another, he ran his hand through his hair.

“Azriel should,” Cassian piped up, but Rhysand shook his head.

“No he could trigger her and send her in the other direction, he could make her die faster,” Rhysand said.

“Or he could show her that he still loves her, give him a chance to explain and ask for forgiveness, do you think she’ll magically believe what we say? Azriel himself will be his proof that she does not need to die.” Cassian countered.

“No I won’t,” Rhysand shook his head, “I won’t let him hurt my sister again.”

Azriel visibly flinched at that.

Growling at his high lord, Cassian stormed up to Rhysand, snarling in his face.

“Azriel might be the only chance your sister has to survive this! And you are willing to throw that away because you don’t trust him anymore?” Rhysand snapped back, “I am not putting my sister’s life in his hands, not again!”

“She’s my sister too!” Cassian screamed.

Rhysand faltered at Cassian’s words.

“You weren’t there the first time this happened, you weren’t there when I found her, bloodied in the snow, when they tried to kill her when she was 15 because she was causing too much trouble in illyrian camps,” Cassian sobbed, “You may have been her real brother but when you were trying to be High Lord, she was trying to survive without a family! I was her family!” Cassian begun pacing himself now.

“You weren’t there when she got her first crush, when I taught her how to throw a real punch, when I taught her how to fly when she was 10 because her father deemed her unworthy to learn and her mother could not teach her!” Cassian looked Rhysand dead in the eyes.

“She was my sister too, and with all my heart I believe that Azriel is her best shot.”

Hesitating, Rhysand looked between Cassian and Azriel, before nodding slowly.

“Fine.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Sitting beside her bed, Azriel grasped his mates hand for what seemed to be the last time. No. Not the last. He would not allow it to be. Regardless of the cost, Azriel would bring her home.

Hundreds of possibilities ran through his head as he gazed at her sleeping face. She looked like she was sleeping, but it was…wrong. Her head was not in an awkward position for him to adjust, she did not stir ever so slightly in his presence to greet him with a soft whimper that he was breathing too loud. She looked like she was sleeping, but in his bones he knew she was not.

Squeezing her hand one more time, he turned as the door open, allowing Rhysand, Madja and Cassian to walk in.

“Nesta will handle all the training today, Feyre promised to continue overseeing all diplomatic and court duties, we’re all set.” Rhysand explained.

Nodding his head, Azriel set his eyes on the wooden floors as he took a deep breathe, closing his eyes as he let the familiar tendrils of magic curl around his mind. He would bring you home.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

He felt as if he had been walking for hours, his soul on the brink of collapse. The heavy weight on his ever preset body, as he kept going forward into the darkness.

There was no light in this place.

Even as he fell to his knees, he crawled, only one person on his mind. But where was she? Where was he?

He could only keep crawling, moving, doing anything but stopping. And even as the ground seemed to swallow him whole, he did nothing.

Maybe he deserved this.

Maybe he needed this.

Pain screamed at him from ever direction, the darkness raging.

Yes.

He deserves this.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Waking up with a start, Azriel sat up as he looked around him, his memory hazy as he tried to recall the last thing.

Right in from of him was the Sidra, its water currents moving as he stared at the river, looking around for signs of anything else. However, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. Velrais, was empty.

Standing to his feet, he let out a shaky swear before taking a moment to stretch all his limbs. This was….Y/N’s dreamscape, her subconsciousness.

But where was she?

Wading through the streets of Velaris, he silently took note of how everything was the same, except there were no people. He could hear the sounds of a bustling city, but it was as if they were whispers of wind, taunting him of a world that was currently not real.

“Y/N?” He called out. If this was her dreamscape, surely she could hear him. That’s when an idea struck him. Grappling for the tendril in his soul, he almost shook with relief when a gold thread appeared in front of him, and he looked to where it led, his heart almost dropping.

Her favourite bakery.

Of course.

Entering the small shop, he saw his starlight in the corner of the bakery, curled up against the plush bright seats, a croissant in one hand and a book in the other.

“My love,” He whispered.

Looking up, your eyes widened as you dropped the book, your mouth agape as you took in the male before you.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded. Your heart palpitated in your chest as you stared at him. He was not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be either waiting for your impending death so your soul could travel to the next life, or wait for Madja to save you.

He just stared at you.

Stared at you, speechless, as he looked over you as if he could not believe you were in front of him.

“I won’t repeat myself!” You yelled.

“Sweetheart, I-“ He started but you flinched away when we tried to walk towards you.

Feeling his heart shattering, he just looked at you helplessly, he wanted to tell you that it was alright, that it was safe, but how could he when he has been the cause of your pains?

“I just came to explain, we found a way to enter your subconsciousness and I came, I needed to explain, I need you to understand-“ “Understand what?” You scoffed, “That my mate, cheated on me?” He shook his head stepping towards you, even as you tried to claw at him to escape, to leave, to do anything but look at him.

You struggled as he grasped your wrists, tried to kick at him, but he would let you hurt him if you just listened.

Even as you calmed, giving in to the fact that he was physically stronger that you, you spoke, “Loyalty, equality, eternal and forever,” You recalled the promises he had made you, “Who would have known the spymaster’s ‘forever’ really meant ‘until there is better’?” You wanted to laugh, laugh at yourself for how foolish you were, cry at how much it hurt to think of how he had broken our trust, scream at how you had hidden your pain to save HIM and now you were the one suffering.

“You are a joke, Azriel, a liar and a joke.”

“Please listen to me,” He breathed, “Please just let me explain.”

“Explain what!? Was she better, prettier, more compliant? Is that it? You couldn’t take the heat of someone so strong headed anymore, right? Too many opinions, too much energy, just too much right? Do you think I haven’t suffered enough? Why are you still here to torment me? Do you think I did not spend enough time agonising over how you loved her more than me!?”

“I was drugged!” He exclaimed.

Silence.

As the words sank in, as your eyes widened and you finally, finally looked him in the eyes.

“I was drugged,” He repeated, “Elain had started sneaking in aphrodisiacs into my tea when I first started accompanying her to help her adjust. I never noticed, I only realised there were blocks of time I could not recall here and there, that everything seemed hazy, but I couldn’t stop it. It was sheer luck that Cassian noticed when Elain was trying to give me the daily dose of it.”

You wanted it to be true. More than anything you wanted what he said to be true. Because that would mean he never stopped loving you, that all the times of thinking you were less than, it meant that you had been wrong.

But you could not.

You refused to give your trust away to him again, because more than anything you knew he held your heart in his hands even now. Instead of delighting in that fact like you used to when you were happy, now you were terrified.

Your life hung in the balance.

And you had to choose yourself.

“Go back, Azriel,” You sighed, “Tell Madja to just kill me, because I am…so tired,” You breathed.

“No, no, no!” Denying your request, he knelt before you, hands on your waist as he buried his face into your abdomen, as his eyes flooded with tears and he shook.

“Please,” He begged, “Please, come home, let me fix this. Please, let me love you, let me show you that there was never a doubt in my own sane mind that I love you. Please.”

The spymaster, on his knees before you. Begging.

“I can’t, Az, can’t you see?” You lifted his chin to look at you, your own tears beginning to well up and trickle down your face, “I’m dying, I’m dying and if you don’t leave this place then you’ll die to. We both know there isn’t enough time.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Azriel murmured, “I’ll go with you and I will follow you, all the way till the end. I told you I will love you, until we are nothing but the stars travelling across the sky of Velaris, I will follow you, and I will love you.” He pulled you down, embracing you, “So don’t make me go, Starlight.”

As you breathed, in and out, in and out, as you let out a choked sob as you finally, finally let yourself embrace your mate, you let out a soft, mumbled, “Okay.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: I know it’s not done but I have one LAST part after this I just wanted to really really really not rush this I tried fitting it all into one last part but sadly I could not next part will be happy I promise.

The people who are crossed out are the ones I could not tag please please please tell me in the replies if you want to be tagged, series taglist will NOT be repeated across parts.

Azriel’s taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Series taglist: @its-sam-allgood @skylarkalchemist @doodlebugwatkins @buttermilktea11 @lilah-asteria @loverofclones @evergreenlark @tele86 @kingdomofstarrynights @peachyxlynch @annamariereads16 @unlikely-lovers-together @div94 @saltedcoffeescotch @ccacotartoglover @crazylokonugget @tanyaherondale @gabbiskylar01 @mariahoedt @that-one-little-soybean @cat-or-kitten @hauntedstudentobservationus @thefandomplace @minaaminaa8 @amysangel @mich0731 @petersunderoos96 @sidthedollface2 @wallacewillow0773638 @annaaaaa88 @azzydaddy @the-sweet-psycho @alaia-aya @laurzwrites @michellexgriffey @st4r-girl-official @krowiathemythologynerd @anuttellaa @i-am-infinite @iwishiwasaprincess @sad-anxious-muffin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @circe143 @deeshag @acourtofbatboydreams @randombibitch @romantasyreader28 @jojo2343-blog1 @lady-targaryens-world @nayaniasworld @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @mochibabycakes @bookisposts @moonlwghts @rcarbo1 @sunnyspycat @tee-hee135 @winnerwinnerchickendinner22

[hajihiko]

hi. i’ve seen from your art you liked akane!! (i think?) and wanted to ask if you have any headcanons 4 her :)

sure! I feel like I did one before...? But idr

also yknow warning for headcanon stuff. And it's sad. And it's Akane's fucked up backstory (that means hints to child sexual abuse)

My favorite thing is 'gymnast that always lands on her feet' hehe. She's the most resourceful, resilient person out of everyone, and I genuinely have a hard time thinking of how Junko got to her in the first place.

Her 'instincts' are actually hyper-intelligence when it comes to reading people and the environment. She doesn't know she's doing it, but she's always alert, and can tell when something tiny has changed or someone is acting just a bit off. She honed this skill trying to navigate her disaster life from age Way Too Young.

She seems ditsy because anything that isn't really life threatening just isn't that important and she doesn't bother with it. Again, because her life has been real rough.

She's super casual about nudity (this is canon) and spreads it to her classmates. Once you're used to her absolutely killer body in the nude in a totally casual nonsexual way, you just kinda get over it all.

After waking up, she isn't quite as wild and violent and active, and she takes Nidai's advice to work on her inner self too. Yoga, meditation, that kind of thing*

She loves dancing!

Any kind of physical activity, really. Hopscotch? Aces it. Jump-rope? Aces it. Surfing? Well she gets distracted and falls off a lot but she loves it anyway!

She enjoys sex but doesn't like, crave it. It's a sort of exercise that feels good, like yoga or Nidai's massages. She doesn't really see why it's such a huge deal to some people.

That said she's definitely picky about who she does it with. Don't make it weird, dude.

If you're gonna be weird about it, you don't have a chance, because she can tell.

Also if you're a man you have like a 10% chance. Women... may try

Sex is completely divorced from romance to her, though.

She thought the plan-B pill was like a tylenol. Everyone does it when the occasion calls for it, right? It's whatever, right?

Non-Despair AU, she doesn't really drink alcohol except very occasionally. You can count on her to let you crash at her place, no problem.

She actually has a sort of open door policy. One, because she is unfortunately used to having no privacy. Two, she is used to letting ppl stay if they need it- she'd rather sleep in the bathtub than let anyone sleep on the street. Three, she can kick anyone's ass, *try* and do anything untowards.... cmom try :)

Post-wakeup, one of her worst moments is when she realizes she just no longer likes food :( her body rejects it too hard and nothing tastes the same. She eventually develops a much different taste, but at least she can enjoy it sometimes.

Loves eating with nothing but her hands. Food tastes the most pure that way, no metallic taste or wood texture to interrupt her. Teruteru takes this to heart and starts planning his dishes with utensils in mind, too.

If she does a blind taste (or smell, or touch) test, she fucking kills it every time.

She can tell when Junko is around because of Junkos incredibly threatening presence.

i guess the only reason Junko got to Akane is because Junko was slightly better at manipulation and hiding herself. Akane has never forgotten and therefore Junkos presence is a permanent concern in Akanes psyche. Akane won't be fooled again.

Akane and Nekomaru never actually have a talk about their relationship or whatever. Akane just loves being around him, and feels safe, and they infect each other's mood, etc. He has never set off any of her alarm bells, so she trusts him with her whole self.

Fuyuhiko reminds her of one of her brothers, who was younger than her but not by much, and always tried to take care of her. Trying so hard to be the man he thinks he should be. Younger brother vibe.

Sonia reminds her of the pretty ladies in books, movies and ads. So put together and bright...blush. But she could stand to be more honest, and smile more genuinely.

Kaz reminds her of a girl (HMM) who wasn't quite family, but stayed with the Owari household for a while because of complications. Equals sort of?

Hajime is.... someone Akane is always on the brink of challenging or going up against, like something in her just wants to maul him. Not in a bad way tho (probably)! but he feels like a real challenge. But, of way more prevalence, she wants to be around him and work with him, and loves his presence. She's incredibly glad they ended up as friends instead. (Thats a reference to her being the villain in the drafts!)

Akane really likes being tucked in. She did it for her family all the time, but no one ever did it for her until post-wakeup.

She never actually comes to terms with all her abuse fully. Like she gets it, she knows objectively it was wrong, she has the right idea.... but there is just. Too much. She lives a good life and she functions great but she just doesn't revisit or confront those corners of her mind. People might think that's not right, but she has autonomy over herself and good luck trying to force her into it.

Some things just don't get resolved or accepted. Sometimes bad things just happen and you keep living. She's definitely not the only one who puts something unresolved behind her.

She used to be a city girl, but she loves the island and the nature, the close crowd of people and the total freedom. Her life at the end of the 'story' is the best she's ever had it.

*I'm gonna post a picture ok it's nudity it's boobs OK

Her peacefully meditating & connecting to her soul as well as her body :)

i love Nekomaru's line about how like..... idr like she's super strong but needs to work on herself spiritually too. I think it's nice that he considers her spirit as well as her body. Once she reaches Peace she's practically unstoppable

[genderkoolaid]

Translated with Google and edited for clarity

Transgender men in Mexico suffer the same type of violence as trans women, but they tend to remain silent and not report it due to gender stereotypes that impose the idea of ​​strength on men, LGBT rights activists agreed on Wednesday. Davien Gómez, a transgender man originally from Guadalajara (western Mexico), told EFE that this sector faces attitudes of devaluation in society, since many of them are in a process of gender transition in which their feminine features have not completely disappeared. “Since they are perceived as women from the start, they have this idea that they will always be women. There are [transmasculine people] that do not have a phallus, but that see themselves as cisgender men, so there is not so much of a problem as long as no one knows, but if they do not [pass as cis, they think,] "how can I consider you a man if you look like a woman?” he said. The activist from the Impulso Trans organization stated that this devaluation is present not only in front of acquaintances or in work and family environments, but also when trying to establish emotional relationships in person or on dating apps focused on the LGTBIQ+ community. Impulso Trans and the Existimos Foundation conducted a survey among trans men in various states of the country, in which they found that 80.2% of the participants have experienced discrimination and violence, but 9.9% of them do not know how to identify it. In the data released within the framework of the LGTBIQ+ Pride month, it stands out that 54.9% of transmasculine people experience violence in the family, 50% at school, 33.5% at work, 38.5% on the street and 34.6% when requesting a service in public institutions. Adrián Arellano, a trans man, told EFE that sometimes violence arises because people have an idea of ​​what it means to be a man, dictated by a heteronormative system in which only what is conceived as masculine is valid. “There are people who believe that all trans men want to have a beard and want to look 100% like a [cis] man, if we don't get to that point we continue to be treated as women,” he explained. Worse still, transgender people face verbal and physical violence because of their appearance or gender expression, attacks that extend to those who identify as non-binary, although transgender men tend not to report them, Gomez added. “It doesn't have the visibility that transfemicides have (...) there is a huge invisibility towards the trans male community and it is very strange that transmasculine people cannot say what happens to them because of this sexist idea that men have to put up with it or that nothing happens to them,” she said.

According to the survey conducted in early 2024, trans men who have experienced violence or discrimination do not file a complaint because they do not know how or where to do so (31.9%), because nothing will change (23.1%) or out of fear (19.2%). Izack Contreras, coordinator of Impulso Trans, told EFE that while it is common for trans men to remain silent out of machismo or to act tough, they also do so because they do not know how to recognize or differentiate violence. “We don't recognize violence, we don't know when I'm experiencing violence or discrimination and I don't know where to go or how to report it or what to do, in general. Add to that the fact that the justice system doesn't work, so we report it, but nothing happens,” she said. Of the survey participants, they found that in 6.6% of cases there was no change among those who dared to report, 3.8% of them were re-victimized, and in 2.2% of cases there was reparation of the damage. Based on these results, both organizations will launch a campaign to make the problems of the trans male community visible, “to make them aware of the violence they may experience, to inform them of the places to go if they are victims and to generate a culture of respect in different areas of society,” explained Contreras.

[bleedingichorhearts]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬…” {1/2}

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: How I would think the Primarchs would react to you saying “I’m getting too old for this.” Yandere Primarchs would be a different story…

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: The “Primarchs” reacting to you saying “I’m too old for this.” Simple as that.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Slight Angst.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Part 2}

The Emperor; “Revelation:”

He hears your words through your soul. He doesn’t need to be in front of you to hear you say you’re “too old” comment to yourself, and he feels… indifferent about it, in a way. Sure, you’re his counterpart, but he has always expected you to eventually fall to the hands of death before him. It was inevitable. He was a proclaimed god, and you? A simple human. A human that reminds him of too much true humanity itself despite his title…

Lion El’Johnson; “The First:”

Is also indifferent about it and expects it. He knows the consequences and prepares himself for it, or at least tries to. His face is voided of emotion, but his eyes stare and that means a lot than what many lead on. He won’t show it, act or even acknowledge it, and perhaps… he doesn’t want to.

Fulgrim; “The Phoenician:”

Gasps at you from like a 5-mile radius (maybe more) before coming to where you are leaning down to sweep you up in his arms. Kissing you on the cheek and forehead, and it’s very much to your confusion. Your hubby is being very affectionate with you randomly. Well, until he praises you on your age and how remarkable you look do you piece together what happened to get such lovin’.

Perturabo; “Lord of Iron:”

Pretends not to care, but he does give a very low hum of acknowledgement. Is somehow better than his first brother as he at least acknowledged your words. (From a far radius as well.) He’s a bit… hurt? At your words, but he knows it’s inevitable as well. Though, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t change something within his workplace to make you more comfortable and less eligible to say those words again.

Jaghatai Khan; “The Warhawk:”

Would pick you up, kiss you on the neck before giving you to the other wives of his sons. Requesting them to pamper you for the day, and if they can’t? He will, and he’s surprisingly good at it. It’s nothing much compared to the thought of your aging death, but he can at least make it more comfortable, right?

Leman Russ; “The Wolf King:”

Plays excited and happy, but is… gloomy on the inside. He doesn’t like your words, you should prosper, hunting with him and his sons forever. Yet he is not oblivious to the acts of death: slow and fast. Though, maybe hunting with his sons in the… afterlife would be more enjoyable? Lasting? He doesn’t like to think too much on it, but he’ll try and spend his time with you more often. (Not like he already does.)

Rogal Dorn; “Praetorian of Terra:”

Gives you a voided stare like his first brother too. Though, he also doesn’t really acknowledge it either, with words anyway. He may act though, doing the same thing his 4th brother does. Trying to provide you with a much more comfortable environment. Stop complaining about his quarters being enough. He must ensure structure.

Konrad Cruze; “Dark King:”

Stares at you too, but is like… worse than Lord Dorns stare. You think he’ll do anything for your uttered words? Thats right, he won’t. If he let himself die to the hands of an assassin? He’ll let you suffer your age. He feels indifferent about not killing you himself however… He may or may not offer extra human bones to you.

Sanguinius; “The Angel:”

Looks at you for a second: up and down before giving a low hum, and gracefully walking to your side. Inside, he doesn’t like your words and he knows his sons around him don’t like it either. It’s one of the many things they think they can’t live without: you. He’ll cover you with his wings as everything seems to get painfully quiet, but he’ll praise you as if nothing happened.

Ferrus Manus; “The Gorgon:”

His legion would simply not care, but him? He’s affected by it. Yes, he likes your humanity, but please. Don’t say those words. He doesn’t wish to think upon them. He doesn’t wish for you to… possibly be like his sons. He’ll keep you more close to him than usual after that, keeping a good eye on you. He won’t say anything, but he’s… there.

[yuki2sksksk]

[ KNY Infinity Castle arc spoiler ]

Rereading the part where Kanao mocks and insults Douma and I finally understand that in a way, she's gloating.

Douma and Kanao were raised in an environment where neither had the luxury to express their true emotions. They needed to act in a certain way to survive. When they finally found a path that allowed them to be more of what they were, Kanao managed to shape herself according to her choice but Douma couldn't.

Even if Douma has gotten stronger, he would always be in that cult, always performing sweet smiles and playing the role of a savior. He stays in the way he was as a human. He's like a frozen statue, unchanging. His human self wanted a change, a spark of excitement in his dull life and he thought being a demon was the answer.

Kanao is everything that he's not. She finds the will to change while he doesn't. Douma has more power than ever, he could go find something else about himself but no, he let himself be rooted in the same spot.

" Why were you even born? " Kanao probably has asked the same thing about herself, and upon noting the slight similarity between her and Douma, she represented the same question for him too.

The brewing hatred in Kanao makes her express great pleasure in seeing that she succeeded in denying her past while Douma still lives in that bubble. Her words spit venom because she can relate to him. Can't feel happiness, can't feel sadness. While he can't, she couldn't.

The difference between them relies on their choices and she feels such immense delight in a moment of spite to know that what she chose has become her strength. She made the choice to change, even in slow progress, but she finds the will to live instead only to survive.

It's such a brilliant choice to have Kanao battles against Douma, from the fact that the people around them are connected to that their pasts are almost the same.

[voidsquidd]

Octavia's character is actually so well written like

The first time we see her is her having a nightmare about not being able to find her dad in the palace no matter where she looked. Her fear is already clearly shown in her first appearance, and from then on every time we see her is her having that fear re-instilled

In loo loo land, Stolas is unable to understand how she is feeling, that she doesn't want to go to the circus with him (this is a trait Stolas has throughout the series where he cannot tell what other ppl feel, and viv has made posts hinting at this being an intentional character flaw). So not only is he dragging her somewhere she doesn't want to be but then makes it worse by inviting blitzø becuz he wants to spend time with him. We know Stolas could defend himself, it's clear he wants him there not as a body guard but becuz he genuinely wants him to be, ignoring how via may feel, ignoring why he was doing this to begin with. He just invited the guy he cheated on vias mother with to spend time with them while they went somewhere to try cheer her up, and via puts up with it the whole time.

And remember, she was awake when Stella was screaming abour Stolas cheating, she knows what's going on already. They didn't do anything to try and hide what happened from their daughter.

It's also implied that Stella has always yelled and been like this, since we see a picture of younger her in s2ep1. This is important to show how via has always been living in a dysfunctional household. Her mother reacts to issues by yelling and throwing things, potentially physical violence too, and Stolas has needed anti depressants since before he met blitzø again. While Via doesn't know about that, his depression is going to have affected the way he raised Via.

Both her parents are unable to cope with emotions in a healthy way and that will have caused her to struggle as well.

When she finally has enough during the ep and runs off, Stolas goes after her and talks to her but isn't able to tell her the real circumstances for the marriage, she doesn't know why her parents act the way they do, or why they don't love each other. she doesn't know why Stolas cheated with some other guy or why he invited him just to flirt with the whole time. She's scared her nightmare will come true, she always has been due to her unstable environment and now there is someone Stolas could leave with. That is terrifying for her, that is where she starts to hate blitzø.

And all Stolas can do is promise he won't, but he repeatedly fails to change his behaviour. It's shown in all episodes we see via play a large part in: Stolas does something wrong without thinking about via, ignoring her feelings, forgetting important dates, he apologizes but then goes on to do the same again and again.

That is not enough, that makes via lose trust in him, makes her wait for the next time he fucks up, for the next apology, for the cycle to continue. It is meaningless if he doesn't change.

But that's all Via has, Stella is shown to be mostly absent, not wanting anything to do with Via. If her dad leaves then she will have no one and she constantly feels like he could leave at any moment.

In loo loo land, he paid more attention to blitzø than her.

In seeing stars, when she saw him again after running away becuz of the divorce she was also now having to cope with (which she could easily blame on the cheating and blitzø), blitzø is there, and had been with Stolas the whole day

In sinsmas, blitzø is there when she went to find her dad, blitzø who was the reason this was happening to begin with in her mind, was the one Stolas was now spending all his time with

And let's talk about the divorce a bit more.

For 17 yrs she has had both parents present, even as toxic to each other as they are, Via had always lived with both of them. And now she won't. Now she has to get used to both of her parents separating, living away from each other, all the moving their stuff out, the arguments, procedures and the legal side.

Suddenly everything has changed, her fears are getting worse, nothing is stable in her life anymore. And at 17 too.

When a divorce happens when the child is young, they get used to it, their memories of it get vague over time, even if having seperate parents will always have its own issues, they get used to it and adapt better since young children are overall better at adapting to changes like this, they haven't developed their emotions properly yet and are unable to understand what's happening.

But she is 17, she has always had 2 parents, she isn't used to it, and by that age she is old enough to understand, to feel those emotions. She is dealing with a lot and her fathers continuous issues are getting to her.

And then mastermind happens

Stolas thinks he is going to die when he goes to save blitzø, when he claims to have committed crimes he never did.

Via watches him do this, she probably saw how they were about to sentence blitzø to death, and now her dad is taking the blame, believing he would die; she believes the same.

Her father, after promising he would never leave, after repeatedly messing up and leaving Via last, after prioritizing blitzø and getting carried away with him and focusing on him so much, after being unable to do anything but apologize only to do the same again until those apologies mean nothing.

He is going to permanently end his life, leave his daughter behind forever, for the guy Via was always scared of losing him to.

Her nightmare that she has always has is coming true.

Her dad is leaving her for someone else, we dont even see him think or speak about her while he is doing it, she doesn't cross his mind.

Her not being able to find him was her fear all throughout her life and she had told him multiple times, ask if he would, and he was still going to die for someone else.

And then he doesn't even remember to call her till the next day, and they can't even speak becuz Stella doesn't allow via contact with him.

She has to deal with not having her dad there, for a month. She is with Stella and Andy and unable to speak to her dad all month. He tries to call her but she can't answer and she feels more abandoned than ever. Her mother still seems uninterested in her. The only one who cared even a little bit about her is gone and she's all alone having to cope with how she feels, how much has happened.

She was right, after everything, after all her fears, after constantly feeling like he was close to leaving, the insecurity she dealt with her whole life became true and she was proven right. All her fathers promises mean nothing, they were empty and his actions never reflected what he said he would do.

She clearly misses him, but she expected this, she was just waiting for it to happen.

Then she finds the pills, realises how unhappy he was in the relationship and she goes to find him.

And when she confronts him, this is what she says.

"You lied to me, you said you would never leave me, you promised . . . It was your choice. You chose him . . . You don't love mother, you don't love me, you love him . . . So does that mean you just stayed miserable because of me? Was I some fucking obligation? Is that why you didn't even hesitate when you got a chance to leave?"

When Stolas asks to explain she just says she can't. This isn't her genuinely blaming him, she isn't mad at him really. She just can't handle that conversation. So much has been changing, her life's been more unstable than ever, she never had ppl in her life who could manage their own emotions and she is a teenager and struggling to manage her growing emotions already, and that lack of guidance only makes her ability to worse. She was never taught how, she cannot deal with how she is feeling and simply cannot stand to hear the explanation. Seeing Stolas is hard for her.

And what I think makes this scene even sadder is what Stolas says in s2ep1 to Stella:

"You and I were arranged for one reason, to birth a precautionary heir to the Goetia family . . . The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life . . . And the only thing the Goetia family wanted out of our marriage is already 17, so it's over, I'm done."

Via wasn't even wrong. Stolas said exactly what she is accusing him of, even if he didn't mean it like that, even if she didn't hear. Even if it was for him to explain to Stella why he was finally thru with it, why nothing she did could change his mind. He still said those things, he still left once he had a chance, he still chose blitzø.

He didn't leave Via once he got the chance, he left Stella, but in the end his actions still had an affect on Via, one that he once again failed to realise.

And Via doesn't have the full story either.

All she knows is her parents never loved each other and it always seemed like her dad would leave and she was always scared of that happening. Then suddenly he cheats and starts spending more time with the guy until he eventually almost dies for him without even thinking about her. And she finds out he needed pills, that he was miserable. And she's just so upset over it, so scared over the fact he almost did die, the fact everything she thought would happened did happen. She almost lost her dad and he didn't even say anything to her before going to get himself killed. He admits to being sad in the marriage, to Via being the only good thing, but Via's grown up in such a toxic environment, she misinterprets what he said, she feels like it's her fault he felt this way, and she doesn't even wait for any more apologies.

She's heard his all her life and they never meant anything, they were never a sign he would change, so why should she listen to another one while knowing it was just another lie?

She can't listen to that again.

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x Reader x Batfam) 3

A/n: I forgot to mention that the universe reader is in is earth-42. So, the Prowler is Miles, but he switches with Aaron here and there. and reader has the same last name as Miles.

Part 2, Part 4

Summary: Life with the Waynes so far was pretty good. Damian is still being a brat, so reader decides to be a good big sister. Someone from the past shows their face. In the need of readers help, for Spider-woman.

"I win!" Tim couldn't help but smirk in triumph. You stare at the 'Game over' on your screen. "Nah, nah. You gotta be cheating! Bro what is this!" This was the third time you have lost street fight with Tim.

"You two are acting like children." Damian spoke, watching two play video games for almost 2 hours. You rolled your eyes and gave Damian a look. "Cuz we are. You're like what, 9?" Tim chuckled as he packed his things.

"I am 12!" Damian argued. "Boy, like that makes any difference." Damian began to argue with you, you just stared down at him an announced you were getting a drink from the kitchen. You poured yourself a drink. Suddenly, your Spidey senses were warning you. You quickly turn around, just to see Damian. You scoffed.

It was funny how your Spidey senses always acted up when it came to Damian. You wondered if he wanted to hurt you so you couldn't take the Wayne throne. You turned back and continued to take a gulp from your cup. you paused for a moment before glancing to Damian you was eating a snack that Alfred made.

You thought that maybe the reason that you two haven't fully gotten along was due to both of you not even trying. So why not be the bigger person and try to be nice.

You slide yourself to the table Damian was at and set yourself in front of him. The boy frowns as he sees the smirk you had.

"What do you want, you bug."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. If only he really knew.

"Look, demon. I think we haven't really gotten the chance to bond as siblings." You leaned in with a smile. Damian looked at you with distaste. "Did father put you up to this? What are you planning Davies?"

"No, I ain't planning nothing. What's wrong with wanning to hang out with you?" You arched your brow and leaned back into your chair. Damian sighed "I don't have time for you. I have work to do. So, if you'll excuse me." Damian stood from his chair and walked away.

"Alright, if you change your mind my door is open!" Literally, you leave your door open sometimes. You just forget to close it. A habit to try and get rid of.

After a few days. Damian did come to your room.

"Oh, look who's here. Is there something my little demon needs? hugs, kisses? whatever sisterly love can provide?" You smirked as you watched him give you a look of disgust.

"I don't want your useless affection. Father wants us to go with him to a meeting. Please wear something that doesn't look like a Hippe made it." With that, Damian walked out. He paused and took a glance of a picture you had hung on the wall; it was of a woman. Your mother no doubt.

You sighed and got yourself ready. Wondering why the hell Bruce wanted you to come along.

"Hey Alfred. Do you know why Bruce needs me at the meeting today?" you asked. Alfred handed you a drink you requested for

"It is a meeting at the Wayne enterprise. You will mistily be there to observe the working environment and understand what the Wayne family is about." Alfred escorted you down and helped you fix your dress up, so it was perfect.

Bruce couldn't help but smile as he watched you come down those stairs in one of the dresses Dick picked for you.

Once you reached the bottom, Bruce took your hand into his "You look beautiful."

Your smiled. Your smile faltered.

Remembering the time, your mother had a date with some man you didn't approve of.

It was cold out. Your mother was going to be with a man named Jim Bolton. You were happy she was happy. But you didn't trust this Jim guy. You asked, practically begged your uncle Jeff to do a background run on the man.

Jim was married at the age of 22, awfully young. He got divorced and has two daughters 3-4 years younger than you. he also had 3 DUI's. Your mother has told you he doesn't drink anymore. But you still didn't like him.

You watched your mother walk down the stairs, with a red dress on, her hair fixed up. Shinny jewels on. She looked amazing. You already saw her as a goddess, this just added onto the beauty you already saw in her. You couldn't help but look at her fondly.

"Okay, remember to lock all the doors. Your uncle Aarons going to be here in an hour to watch you and- . . . what?" Your mother noticed that small smile on your face. You were being silent. Just staring at her.

You chuckled and held her hands to yours "Nothing. . . you just look beautiful."

You missed her. You've been trying to not think too much of her. Not think of the time you two spent. Not think of her hugs. Her smile, her voice.

You have night terrors of what happened that day. At times you stay awake, too scared to close your eyes. Afraid to see every wrong thing you've done as a daughter. You make it worse for yourself by calling her number, only to hear no answer.

The Wayne building was big. Many people in uniforms rushing too somewhere. Rushing to get work done, rushing to get home.

You walked beside Damian. He has been quite this whole time. You wonder what was making your dear little weirdo so silent.

You sat in one meeting with Bruce and Damian. It was rather boring. But you did think Bruce was cool with the way he took over. Bruce had two other meetings that suddenly came up. He was going to take the two of you downtown to look around, get something to eat. Go to the movies even.

"It's alright. Me and De- Damian can go and hang around with Alfred. Can get a little Sibling bonding out of it." You held yourself back from calling the boy, demon. Almost let it slip for a second there.

Bruce liked the sound of that. When he agreed, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Bruce isn't the best with affection, but you have been doing these little gestures, hugging, the kisses on the cheek. You would even do the occasional 'I love you's Bruce is starting to think that you might just be getting closer to him. So, he buys you more things.

Sometimes you decline so he just gives you money.

Damian rolled his eyes as you dragged him to the car. Alfred Started the car and you two were now going to be closer than ever. Well, you hope.

"So, little brother, you have anyone that has cached your interest?"

Damian frowns "That is none of your business."

"I see, you must really her then. Or him, I don't discriminate on who you love." You felt a smirk creep up when you catch a glimpse of the look on the young boy's face. It just felt so fun toying with him like this.

"I don't have time for something like dating. Stop talking, you're giving me a migraine." Damian did visibly look tired of you, which made it even more enjoyable for you.

The first few weeks that you came to the manor. This boy has been activating the need for violence. You can't just cuss him out and flip him off like you did with Miguel.

You can tell Damian ain't stupid. He's sharp and very aware of his surroundings. One slip up and your done for. So, you decide to do what you did best.

Be annoying.

Damian ignores you more when you act like that. On top of that, you loved the reactions you got out of him.

You and Damian went to a music shop where they had those old timey records that you liked.

"Why do you need these things. You know you can listen to music like this on your phone, right?" Damian watched as you picked up a record and held it like it was precious. The most fragile thing in the world.

". . .The neighborhood I used to live in. Was loud. I could hear screaming, gun shots. And other things I wasn't supposed to hear." You gently put the record down and continued to walk down the aisle. Damian and Alfred followed behind.

"One night, there was a gang fight right outside. I got so scared. I ran into her room crying. She played a song. . ." You found a song you haven't seen in a while and grabbed it.

"She held me. . . and said, 'son solo sondios, mi amor.' and told me to listen to the music. Let that be the only thing you hear." You let yourself laugh, remembering at how much you cried.

"So, that's what I do. Instead of listening to sounds that give me fear. I listen to these."

Damian watched you happily go through the records.

Damian scoffed to himself. It was the first time he saw a real smile from you. Of course, you smile a lot. But everything was fake. You were putting on a facade. He didn't like fake people.

Lying all the time. People who lie, can't be trusted. And you lie a lot. he knows. You just haven't been caught yet.

But that, what you just did. You were actually being real. You don't seem too bad. For a bug.

"What's this?" Damian spoke up when he picked up a record that had big words on it with a blue background.

"Oh, Boney M. I love these guys." You know Uncle Aaron had full blown collocations of the band.

You looked down to see the look of confusion on Damians face. "Oh, my Go- Come on man. You really don't know these guys?"

"No, should I? . . . My mother wasn't like yours." Damian mumbled. He sets down the record. You stared at him, then glanced to Alfred. You don't know much about Damian's mother. Just that she left him with Bruce.

Due to the boy's uptight attitude, you assume his mother was strict. And based on Alfreds expression, she probably wasn't the best.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Let's go watch a movie. Yeah?"

The movie was a comedy, it was funny to you. Even more funny that Damian couldn't understand the jokes in the movie. Just watching you laugh so much just because he wasn't understanding the jokes, Damian couldn't help but laugh himself.

"I liked the ending." Damian spoke as you two exited out the theater. "What? for real? . . . why? The ending was kind of butt." You say, Wanting to know why Damian actually liked the ending.

"Well, the main character, Lisa. She found out she was being played by that Moses guy. Even if he caught feelings for her at one point, he didn't have those feelings when he went with that dare. When he kissed her at the prom as some stupid form of an apology, she just slapped him. She knew her worth."

You just stared in utter disbelief. You couldn't help but giggle, then burst out laughing.

"What? Why are you always laughing!'' Damian was scolding you as you continued to laugh and try to explain why you were laughing.

Suddenly you felt your Spidey senses go crazy. Thats when an explosion was heard.

"Oh shi-"

people started running in panic. "It's joker. . ." You heard Damian mumble. You quickly grab Damians hand and try to get to the car where Alfred was parked. Damian let you drag him. So many people were crowding up in a panic.

Damian looked up at you, then to the multiple explosions Joker was dropping. Hearing his damn laugh echo. He was putting his Job as Robin first. And let your hand go. You felt him let go. You quickly turn around. Panic sets in you. You called out his name as you tried to shove people away so you could get through.

"DAMIAN!" You tried to help a few people who got hurt by the falling rubble around them. But all you could think of was Damian. You kept calling the boy's phone. But it would go straight to voicemail. You cussed multiple times.

You went back into the theaters, calling out for Damian, asking anyone if they had seen a little boy come back in.

You didn't know he had left to fulfill his role as Robin.

You were currently in an alleyway. Trying to get to Damian on the phone, no answer. You try to contact Bruce, you lost service. You got frustrated and decided to just run around like an idiot to try and look for the boy.

But you accidentally ran into someone and knock them down.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry Ma'am. Are you alright?" You were quick to help the girl up.

"Thanks. . . you look good, Y/n."

You paused. Who was this? how did she know your name. Your look of confusion started to fade as you recognized the voice. You began to step back.

The girl fully showed her face. Starring you right in the eyes.

"Gwen?"

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tag list: @lockofspades @redsakura101 @ruby-izo

[chuelectrico20]

I got bored and decided to make this (don’t take it too seriously it’s very surface leveled for the most part and drawn at like night) because I like little details of characters from different continuities and the alterations specifically how much the environment affects the characters.

Like for Sonic needing to be now a movie protagonist for general audiences (not just the already established game audience this is important) they need an origin and what’s easier to gain audience sympathy then your protagonist losing a loved one especially a guardian but I’m glad Longclaw stays relevant throughout Sonic’s adventures and she isn’t a one off. With that loss and being sent to a new environment by force and 10 year self isolation Sonic isn’t exactly mentally well and is more prone to emotional outbursts and decisions which I wish people remembered bc when making comparisons to modern Sonic (which already is a discourse in of itself) to understand that this sonic specifically having such a drastically different origin is going to effect his characterization more majorly compared to the others.

Knuckles is also effected by this environment change no longer like game Knuckles who already had a duty and purpose in guarding the Master Emerald when first meeting his character movie Knuckles actually shares his origin with movie Sonic, in that he actually grew up with the Echidnas but loss them the same day Sonic lost longclaw, because of this alteration movie Knuckles is more loss and always questioning his place in life and unlike game Knuckles who’s nativity comes from little to no social interaction with others for a long period of time and his belief that there’s always good in others movie Knuckles is more willing to get along with someone if they have a similar goal in mind, and because of his reputation throughout the galaxy is aware that others will take advantage of him but he still trusts them anyways out of desperation.

The one who doesn’t seem to be that different on first watch and appearance is Tails but they both actually sport some major differences too if you actually look closer. Both origins are similar enough but their first meeting with Sonic effects their personality through out the rest of their appearances. Game Tails technology is more associated with transportation especially from the beginning of his appearances like the Tornado and described in most descriptions as a mechanic but because of the introduction of Rings as a standard for all types of transportation in the movies Tails has more weapon based gadgets like his ray gun, boomerang and anti gravity device. Even the difference of independence is different where because of his time with Sonic modern Tails wants to stand on his own more often movie Tails actually acts more independent on first appearance even going on his own terms to find Sonic rather than meeting by accident. As well it’s funny looking at both Tails more deeply and realizing how much nicer game Tails is compared to movie Tails, movie Tails kinda doesn’t care for most people outside of his immediate family and is more purposefully blunt compared to modern Tails who’s more likely to roast when he’s with Sonic and unintentionally say some blunt stuff and even goes in an indirect way of trying to tell people off. Funnily enough you can tell this difference with Tailstube #11 and movie Tails interaction with the other human characters in the movies.