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iamumbra195 · 2 years ago

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Random Snippet from my What if AU: Rukia was killed in the Soul Society after Aizen removed the Hogyoku from her?

Summary: Ichigo deals with the aftermath of failing to save a friend and has a conversation with our favorite Visored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ichigo stared at the bloodied and bruised man beneath him, maddening rage and the uncontrollable need to hurt someone still roaring in his mind as he sucked in a few painful breaths. There was blood soaking his torn shirt from where the fucker had managed to get a lucky hit with his switch before Ichigo knocked it away.

The woman the man had been groping was long gone and evidently hadn’t bothered to call the police or anything since Ichigo had been there for quite some time and he didn’t hear any sirens.

Not that Ichigo was going to call them. The man deserved every ounce of pain he had inflicted on him. If he wanted to go to the police or the hospital, he could do it himself and explain how it happened since they were more likely to try and arrest Ichigo for being a ‘delinquent’.

Ichigo took a deep breath before making his way back to where he had tossed his backpack, scowling at a woman who gasped at the sight of him and ran away. His side ached as he rummaged through his bag for a jacket and threw it over.

“You know, he might die if you leave him like that,” a now familiar voice commented mildly and Ichigo wheeled around, glaring at the blond who was continually intruding on his life from where he was perched on the fence.

“Yeah? Well, good for him. One less creep to deal with,” he spat, his lips pulling into a sneer.

Hirako tilted his head, still watching Ichigo with that unreadable look on his face that the redhead desperately wanted to punch off. “You know–”

Ichigo’s scowl deepened before he cut the man off. “If you say a word about my inner Hollow driving me insane, I’ll fucking kill you. I told you to leave me alone. I don’t care if you think I’m insane.”

Hirako laughed humourlessly. “Oh, I don’t think anything. I know you’re insane. Breaking into the Soul Society with three other kids and a cat for a girl you’ve known for two months and taking on several captains and seated officers.”

Ichigo faltered, shoulders drawing into a tense line. “Shut up. Don’t talk about her.”

Hirako paused for a moment before sighing heavily and jumping off the fence and landing lightly on his feet. “Look, kid. I’m not nagging you about this as much as I should because I get what you’re going through. But Aizen’s coming for you and coming for everyone. You’re scared of using your Bankai because you lost control the last time you used it and you’re scared it’s gonna happen again. You need to get that Hollow under control before it starts controlling you. You’ve noticed it, your family has noticed it. And we’re the only ones who can help you with that since we’ve dealt with it for over a century.” His gaze darkened and something like fear slithered in Ichigo’s gut. “Because if you don’t get it under control and become a danger to everyone, believe me, I will kill you.”

Black crept into Hirako’s sclera and for a moment, Ichigo couldn’t breathe, crushed under the weight of the blond’s reiatsu. For a moment, it felt like he was fighting Kenpachi all over again.

The feeling subsided just a second later and Hirako leaned back on his heel, his expression still almost unnervingly serious as he observed Ichigo.

“But that isn’t something I want to do. Pick your options,” he said simply before his mouth quirked into his usual smile, if a little more subdued, and he gestured towards Ichigo’s now hidden injury. “And get that checked out.”

Then he was gone and Ichigo was left to his own thoughts.

It was easy, temptingly easy to let the Hollow take control because most days all he could feel was anger or numbness. Killing Tousen hadn’t made him feel anything because it wasn’t enough. He wanted to kill Aizen for taking away Rukia just when Ichigo had finally managed to save her. He wanted to hurt all the Captains who had stood by and done nothing, remaining blind to Aizen’s machinations because it was their fault Rukia was dead.

But Rukia would’ve hated him if he allowed himself to be consumed by his own anger and desire for retribution and Ichigo didn’t want to taint his memory of her with his own delusions. He should’ve been strong enough to protect her, save her like she saved him.

But he wasn’t and she paid the price for it.

Hirako, no matter how much Ichigo didn’t like him, was offering him a chance to get stronger and get control of his abilities so he could use them to avenge Rukia and stop Aizen from hurting anyone else.

There wasn’t really much to think about.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Over my deepest flesh

There is something I hide behind my smile

Ever since my suffering started

At first, it's too hard to pretend

that everything's alright and I'm taught that

if I can't manage to keep this thing inside

everything will remain miserable

My faith, hope, love, or even everything I own

will eventually be void by this thing and

turn everything into guilt and hatred

that I never ever wanted to feel

Because I have already done with that side

But it keeps pursuing behind

I've to resist this dark side

Before it turns my way again to its glide

The side that I hated most

Is always inside trying countless attempts

to bring me in the bottomless hole

Just like a cave that has no escape

Or an illness that has no cure

It's always there waiting for your weakest days

When everyone turns back on you

When everyone judges you

And when everyone blames you

The calling of that Dark side you always tried to blur

That's whispering "Revenged"

- Unknown

This poem felt like it suited Ichigo

There will probably be a gracious amount of Shinji in this AU if I ever get around to writing it. I love his and Ichigo’s relationship in canon and the fact tht he continuously calls Ichigo out on his bullshit while remaining a loyal friend/mentor/weird uncle

I wish we got more of them because Shinji had so much potential but apparently he gets sidelined so often and him and the Visored not using their hollow masks against the Quincy is such bullshit, especially after the other captain somewhat hollowfied themselves in order to gain their bankai and Visored already had hollow reiatsu imbedded into their soul making it so that the Quincy couldn’t steal their bankai like wtf???

Central 46 can take their dumb ass laws and shove them up their asses because the visored deserved better

all of my favourite characters get sidelined so much :(

Ichigo has so much beef with Kisuke in this AU it’s actually hilarious

#bleach #bleach AU #Rukia Dies AU #ichigo kurosaki #hollow ichigo #shinji hirako #rukia kuchiki #Ichigo speed blitzed Tousen and killed him XD #Ichigo needs a hug in this #several in fact

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whirling-fangs · 1 year ago

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@fallesto || continued from [x]

Kiba had kept his promises.

Eleven new Moons, handpicked from the broken, the beaten and the damned. Those that humanity had deemed unworthy to keep walking this earth, given a second chance, in exchange for their freedom. Their loyalty undying, grateful as they were to get back at the humankind that had rejected them.

Each of them was a lost soul, condemned to atrocious deaths, or fates even worth that that. Lives filled with sorrow, now replaced with glory, power and riches beyond their wildest dreams.

Eleven new soldiers, all devoted to Muzan's cause. The ranks were still young, but in their years of existence, they had never once let their creator down.

The world was changing. Little by little, day after day, it was being shaped by the demons' actions. Leaders falling, replaced by puppets that acted upon the Lord's every wish. Power shifting, changing hands, as the demons were never once threatened.

The more their influence grew, the more Kiba's worries followed the same trend. As demons made their presence known, the slayers were certain to resurface, if there even was any of them left to roam the planet.

He couldn't keep the Lord cooped up in their apartment complex forever. He owed it to her to show her the world, to let her discover the society she was soon to reign upon.

He never expected his worst fears to come alive in this place. A quest to uncover some of his Lord's lost treasures, a place that only she could remember.

Of course. He should have expected that place to be guarded.

The child he had tortured for information proved to be completely useless. Kiba had completely forgotten about their presence, as his senses burned with dangers he hadn't felt in over a century.

"Stand back. They're here." He told his beloved Lord, panic pumping through his veins. The awaited day had finally come, and the timing couldn't have been worse.

A descendant of the Sun Breathers.

As Kiba laid eyes upon the brat, crimson ever so present amongst the emerald of his irises, he immediately knew. He could feel it deep in his bones, in the way his cells squirmed in anticipation, his power released from the dying human. Its airways were crushed beyond repair.

"You can't save him. You came too late, you piece of trash human. You always do."

Blind rage oozed from his limbs, his power biting at his fingertips. He ought to crush this creature right away, a clawed hand rising into the air, his disguise utterly pointless. He knew that the brat had recognized him for what he was.

Bright symbols shone amongst the colors of his eyes. Perhaps the brat would understand what they meant.

Upper One.

"I don't value the life of the worthless. Humans have no potential. They live, they destroy the world around them, they die. They destroy each other, hate each other... Sooner or later, they'll bring their own demise upon themselves."

"I'll be there to make it happen, but you won't. Tonight, you're going to die."

#fallesto #infinity repeating / future kiba verse #[[ohohohohoh trouble!!!!]]

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carewyncromwell · 2 years ago

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"I don't know if there's a reason Why some are blessed, some not -- Why the few you seem to favor... They fear them -- flee them -- try not to see them...!"

~"God Help the Outcasts (cover)" by Peter Hollens

x~x~x~x

The British Ministry of Magic was in a lot of flux politically in the 1990's. This was most obvious after the Ministry's elected leadership was overthrown by a Death Eater insurgency in the summer of 1997, but even prior to the Second Wizarding War, the pendulum was definitely in motion. It was a time that magical historians would claim required strong leadership, so as to fight the normalization of certain aspects of the blood supremacist ideology. Sadly, all the British Ministry of Magic had in regard to leadership was Cornelius Fudge. And Cornelius Fudge was far too conservative, people-pleasing, pacifistic, and power-hungry to truly see just how dangerous the people he'd surrounded himself with were -- the most dangerous of which being future Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, Dolores Jane Umbridge.

Dolores Umbridge held the role of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, when Carewyn Cromwell first started working at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a lawyer in the summer of 1991. They actually met in Carewyn's first week on the job, when Fudge approached her in the hall on his way back to his office. Carewyn was a bit surprised by how cordial Fudge was to her, but apparently her part in R's defeat and apprehension had left the Minister with a rather favorable opinion of her.

"After all you did for the Aurors, and for Hogwarts itself -- why, it's a pleasure, to have you on-board, Carewyn, my dear," Fudge said warmly. "Should you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know. After all -- " he waggled his eyebrows, " -- technically, we...are family by marriage. My niece having married your uncle, you know..."

The thought of Blaise Cromwell made Carewyn just barely fight back a cringe.

"...Really," she said with a pained smile. "I was unaware..."

"Yes," said Fudge with a sigh. "It is sad that you never got to meet her...even her poor son really would've never met her, he was but a babe when she died..."

He smiled a bit more fully. "But no matter! No sense lamenting the past, when the future lies before us!"

"Very true, Minister," said the pink-dressed woman at his side in an oddly girlish, simpering tone of voice. "We must indeed look toward the future. There is much that we must do, to improve our world -- protect past precedent and reinforce those things people seek to revoke...wouldn't you say so, Miss Cromwell?"

She peered at Carewyn through her heavy, pouched eyes, clearly studying her intently. Carewyn got the distinct impression she was looking for a very specific answer, but even just wading through Umbridge's emotions -- sensing her gross condescension and nasty intent -- made the young lawyer feel as dirty and slimy as she was walking barefoot through a swamp.

"Reinforce those things people seek to revoke" -- why was it that Carewyn saw illustrations of werewolves reflected in Umbridge's eyes, as she said this...?

Carewyn pursed her red lips slightly, breaking eye contact with Umbridge as quickly as she could and trying hard not to shudder outwardly.

"...I would say that past precedent must be considered in all legal cases," she said diplomatically, "but the intent of the original author, and the morality and validity of that intent, can be just as important. After all, wizarding society has never been static -- it's a living, growing thing...and when certain laws are no longer applicable or are in otherwise need of revision...sometimes they must be reexamined through a modern lens. Just as new laws also deserve some scrutiny. I'd hazard to say that's the role of the Wizengamot overall."

Umbridge frowned deeply, clearly displeased. Fudge, however, responded quite favorably.

"Well said!" he said with a clap of his hands. "Just what I've always said -- a balance of the old and new, that's always what's best -- "

Umbridge's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as she smiled.

"...It seems you have a ready wit, Miss Cromwell. You truly do take after Charles...oh! When it comes to making a legal argument, naturally," she added, with an insincere little laugh.

Fudge, on the other hand, cleared his throat very loudly, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Yes, yes, of course, you -- you couldn't be further from that -- that criminal, when it comes to your moral convictions, Carewyn, my dear..."

He turned on his heel, still smiling weakly over his shoulder at Carewyn.

"Well, now, we'd really best be off, Dolores. Lovely to see you, Carewyn! Do send a note by my office anytime, should you need anything!"

"Thank you, sir," Carewyn said politely.

She shot a very furtive look toward Umbridge, who forced a rather sickeningly sweet smile.

"Good day, Miss Cromwell," she said in that unpleasantly simpering voice. "The Minister and I look very forward to seeing how your career progresses."

Carewyn doubted Umbridge had ever lied more through her teeth in her life. Quite honestly, though, all Carewyn really cared about was that the older woman was finally out of range of her potentially sensing her emotions.

Emotions -- yeah, right, Carewyn couldn't help but rant internally as she quickly turned and strode off back toward her office. More like her bog of ego, pretension, condescension, and flat-out spite. The way she thought about werewolves, when she mentioned reinforcing old precedent...only someone who wants werewolves subjugated would want them treated as badly as they've always been...and that hatred, in her -- it was like mud, being splashed all over me -- like when Jacob and I had to talk to Lucius Malfoy at that Slug Club party...

Whoever the hell this Dolores Umbridge was, Carewyn quickly decided she wanted nothing to do with her. They had only just met, but Carewyn already knew it, in the pit of her stomach -- she hated that woman.

x~x~x~x

For the next two and a half years, Carewyn successfully kept her distance from the likes of Dolores Jane Umbridge. Then, most unfortunately, in the spring of 1994, Umbridge wrote a draft of a new bill for Fudge, proposing the curtailing of the kinds of employment that known werewolves were allowed to pursue -- preventing them from working in any position that would put them in contact with animals, children, or even other people.

Carewyn was absolutely horrified by the contents of this bill. She was very well aware, through her friendships with Chiara Lobosca and Remus Lupin, how very difficult it was for werewolves to find and keep a job. With this new law in effect, there would be almost no position that either of them could remain in, if they were open with their condition. Chiara had some friends in St. Mungo's who might be able to find a work-around so as to keep her as a resource, but poor Lupin -- who had always struggled to find work in the educational field -- would likely be left out to dry.

Fortunately there were other witches and wizards on the court, such as Amelia Bones, who harbored similar concerns, and soon a motion had been filed to bring the bill before the Wizengamot, to discuss its possible violation of the Wizard's Code of Civil Rights. Carewyn immediately volunteered to serve as prosecutor for the case.

When she arrived in court that day, she was dressed to the nines in mint green and white, her red lips sternly pursed as she laid out her case.

"Members of the Wizengamot -- I know that we all come from a variety of backgrounds. Some of us were raised with magic -- some not. Some of us have struggled to reach our current position -- others have not. Most of us attended Hogwarts school, but some of us received our magical education elsewhere. But one thing I am quite sure all of us were always well-assured of is that we would never have to worry about there being no place for us. That after all of our study, work, and occasionally even sacrifice, our World would turn its back on us, denying us any chance at financial livelihood and building a future for ourselves and our families. "...What would you do, I wonder, if that happened to you? Would you find employment in the Muggle World? With what qualifications? With what degree? I assure you, not even the most basic customer service job in the Muggle World will have any interest in your awards for Potioneering. "The Wizard's Code of Civil Rights makes the assertion that all magic users shall be entitled to the protection of our Ministry of Magic and the safety to pursue a life of our choosing within the magical World that Ministry has sworn to oversee and regulate. In more recent years, we even expanded those protections to partially cover non-magic users with a blood connection to our Wizarding World, such as Squibs and the Muggle spouses of witches and wizards who've given birth to a magical child. We have already decided that those people who belong to our World, whether due to magical talent or familial ties, deserve to be able to make a living in that World. And yet now, this bill seeks to curtail the Civil Rights of some of our own citizens to find stable employment in the field of their choice. "These citizens...suffer from lycanthropy. As all of you should know, this results in them transforming into a werewolf during full moons -- a form that can be controlled, while the person takes the Wolfsbane Potion, as well as safely restrained, if the person can't get access to it. There have been only two known werewolf attacks in the last ten years, even while it's estimated that there are at least 200 werewolves living and working quietly in our society. 200 werewolves who -- over the span of the last 120 months -- have been nothing but productive members of society -- normal human magic users just like you, who deserve no hatred or fear for a condition they didn't choose to have. For that's what they are -- witches and wizards, just like you! Only a tiny, tiny fraction of werewolves today are Muggles -- a mere 1.5%, of all reported cases, due to the well-documented mortality rate among Muggles bitten in werewolf attacks, compared to wizards. Just as I am still a human witch, even when I transform into my Animagus form, so too are these werewolves still people, even while transformed. And in these cases where they're not transformed, and therefore no threat to anyone, there is even less of an argument to be made for why they should be denied of their basic human rights. "Thank you."

Alas, the defense counteracted all of Carewyn's reason and pleas for compassion and decency with one vile, simplistic argument.

"The prosecution innocently accuses this bill of violating the Wizard's Code of Civil Rights, by denying witches and wizards their proper rights, as humans. But, members of the Wizengamot, werewolves are not human. Even when they look human, they're not. If they truly were just 'normal human beings like the rest of us,' then why don't we determine their fate, when they commit wrongs against the Wizarding World? Why don't the Aurors deal with them, rather than the Werewolf Capture Unit? We have better things to do than deal with the likes of Fenrir Greyback -- he belonged at the mercy of the Werewolf Capture Unit, and the Beast division by extension. Because that's what they are -- beasts. They don't need lawyers, or trials, or even legal defense -- they're creatures we have to regulate. Like dragons or winged horses. And if they have the ability to blend in among us as they have, then the very least we can do is ensure the safety of our children."

The defense's counterargument lasted only half the time that Carewyn's original statement had...and it took only half that time for the Wizengamot to ultimately side with the defense case and let the bill drafted by Dolores Umbridge stand. Carewyn was unable to face anyone in the courtroom as she shakily sat back down at the prosecution bench, holding the edge of the railing.

The defense case was flat-out prejudice: blatant, underhanded fearmongering, and little else. Of course werewolves' affairs were dealt with by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but that wasn't an argument in favor of their disenfranchisement, it only highlighted all the more how much the Wizarding World already treated them unfairly! It only spotlighted how much the Ministry of Magic already treated werewolves as second-class citizens, and how much better it should be, in how it tries to "protect" its people, werewolves included!

And yet, even with that...the Wizengamot had chosen it. No matter how much Carewyn had urged them to look past the fear tactics and see reason -- to feel some compassion for the werewolves' untenable position...they'd ultimately sided with their own prejudices and fears.

She'd failed.

The faces of Chiara and Lupin ran over Carewyn's mind, and she was forced to close her eyes and bow her head, trying to obscure the pain in her expression.

It's my fault, Lupin -- Chiara, she thought. I wasn't good enough. ...I'm so sorry...

"Good day, Miss Cromwell," said a sickeningly sweet voice.

Carewyn had felt miserable enough as it was -- but looking up and suddenly feeling like she was knee-deep in a bog of pretension and spite did not help matters.

Her blue eyes narrowed coldly. "...Madam Umbridge."

Dolores Umbridge was smiling from ear to ear as she regarded Carewyn. She seemed to take some vindictive glee at the younger woman's unhappiness -- Carewyn could sense a noxious kind of sadistic pleasure pooling off of her.

"There, there," Umbridge said in a very unconvincing voice, as she gave a pretentious little pat to Carewyn's hand, "we can't win 'em all, can we?"

Carewyn whipped her hand right out of Umbridge's reach, her blue eyes boring into her coldly. Umbridge's smile only seemed to grow.

"Forgive me, dear, but you just made a weaker case," she said lightly. "Standing by the weak may seem like a very noble endeavor, at first glance...but you know, sometimes all those weak things do is bring you down, rather than build you up."

Her pouchy, toad-like eyes narrowed that bit more as her smile widened.

"Perhaps next time you'll find a case where you can champion the winning side."

Carewyn was very happy when Umbridge turned and strode off -- just wallowing in her sickening, unpleasant thoughts had made her too nauseous to respond.

x~x~x~x

As fate would have it, after the Second Wizarding War came to a close, Umbridge and Carewyn met in another courtroom overseen by the Wizengamot just after New Years, 1999. This time, however, Umbridge was in the defendant's chair...and Carewyn was Lead Prosecutor.

“And so…esteemed members of the Wizengamot…based on the overwhelming evidence – the factually bankrupt, inflammatory anti-Muggle and Muggle-born leaflets sent out by the defendant’s Commission and promoted by the defendant herself; the transcripts of trials overseen by the defendant that spell out blatant corruption and unsanctioned cross-examination techniques, including having Dementors present during all trials and actively refusing to give any defendant proper legal representation; the testimony of over fifty Ministry employees, speaking to the defendant’s close working relationships with known Death Eaters and to her own willingness to overlook Wizarding Law to advance herself and her Commission’s political aims; the countless memos written in the defendant’s own hand condemning nearly a thousand people, including over a hundred children, to unjust captivity; and the defendant’s well-known reputation among her ex-students, her coworkers, and even her own family for enjoying the suffering of others and persecuting fellow wizards and witches not just for their blood, but also for suffering from medical conditions like lycanthropy and blood maledictions – all of which the defense has offered no suitable defense for, aside from incorrectly asserting that the defendant was ‘simply following orders’ from her superiors…I think there is no question as to her guilt, or to what justice would be appropriate. Although I – as a private citizen of the Wizarding World – agree with Minister Shacklebolt’s measure to remove the Dementors from Azkaban prison…I must acknowledge that if there were ever a case for a criminal from our world deserving the Dementor’s Kiss…it would be Dolores Jane Umbridge. But because we – unlike the defendant – have a code of honor before us that we will not break just to achieve a political objective…I believe it’s our solemn duty to ensure this basilisk in human skin never walks free again.”

As Umbridge was sentenced to life in Azkaban, Carewyn took the opportunity to speak to her as her Auror friend Talbott Winger conjured thick chains around her wrists, feet, and neck. The sadistic witch nicknamed "Dementor Dolores" by the Daily Prophet had no color in her paunchy, toad-like face and looked torn between mad outrage and absolute terror. Those two emotions only flared up all the more when Carewyn approached her.

"You -- you wretched little -- !"

Talbott gave a pointed tug with his wand, sharply tightening the chain around her neck the way someone might yank on their dog's lead to tell them to stop barking -- Umbridge gave a strangled yelp of pain.

"I seem to recall you once suggested I fight for the 'winning side,' Dolores," Carewyn said lowly.

The Ministry's new Chief Prosecutor regarded Umbridge with a look better suited to a cockroach before turning her back on her.

"Unbeknownst to you...I always was."

Umbridge's mouth fell open in a mixture of disbelief, terror, and anger as Talbott handed her off to two other Aurors, who proceeded to drag her from the room.

"You -- you can't do this to me!" Umbridge shrieked. "You can't do this! Unhand me, this instant! Let go of me! Let me GO!"

Talbott came up to stand on Carewyn's other side, watching Umbridge get dragged away, his reddish eyes flaring with contempt.

"Charming woman," he said with biting sarcasm.

"More or less charming than a snake pit?" Carewyn asked dryly.

"I'd kiss that entire pit full of snakes on the mouth before being in the same room as her a second time," said Talbott.

Carewyn bit her lip to hold in a soft giggle. Talbott smirked broadly.

"Still...at least justice can finally now be served," Carewyn said with a soft sigh. "This won't undo all the harm she's caused...but at least she can't hurt anyone else again. And that, in itself, guarantees that she'll be miserable for the rest of her worthless life."

Talbott nodded solemnly. "That has to be a small comfort, to those she's hurt."

He brought a hand down on Carewyn's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Carewyn smiled at her old friend, and the two walked out of the courtroom side by side.

"Are you up for a celebratory drink? I owe you and Ben, for volunteering to serve as security during my trials..."

"Quit saying you owe us for that -- you know we're doing it because we want to. ...Heh...but sure, why not? Reckon we deserve something other than coffee, after all the late nights we've been working..."

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my fanfiction #my writing #aesthetic #carewyn cromwell #dolores umbridge #cornelius fudge #chiara lobosca #remus lupin #charles cromwell #talbott winger

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cantdance · 2 years ago

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10 fandoms 10 characters tag game

rules: name 10 of your favorite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people (i wont do that)

tagged by @lolotr almost a month ago. it took me a while to get to this, half because i kept forgetting and half because i legitimately struggled to come up with ten different fandoms i can claim to be in, but whos going to pass up a chance to rave about their blorbos

Final Fantasy XIV Online (FFXIV) - i love so many of the characters from this game. its not hard, the game is designed to make you love them. they feel like real people, especially in the last two expansions which emphasized their relationships with each other and with the wol (aka the player character). its difficult to choose one favorite but if i have to id say its gotta be alisaie leveilleur. despite not being relevant to the main story until the second expansion, her character is so rich and compelling. shes just a girl who wants to understand why her beloved grandpa left her to save a bunch of strangers, and she also wants to find out who she is and become her own person out of her familys (and especially her brothers) shadow. she also likes violence and explosions and how can you not enjoy that in a girl. unlike a lot of people who like alisaie, i also love alphinaud, and i love the way they interact. alisaie is my preferred twin but only by a slim margin. you can blame the backwards ass way i played this game for the fact that i love alphinaud even in 2.0

Marvel Comics - obviously its loki laufeyson! name a bitch more iconic. canonically genderfluid since 2014. your doomed by the narrative fave. raised by a father and a society that hated them for who they were, forced into the role of a villain to juxtapose their brother who was the only person to ever believe they could be more, at least until he didnt. killed and ate and burned themselves over and over to become something new. literally broke free from the narrative to become their best self but still a morally dubious shithead trickster in any (well written) form. my absolute blorbo of all time, dm me for a reading list

Norse Mythology - loki laufeyson again lolol. name. a bitch. more. iconic. canonically genderfluid since the viking age. born from a forest fire after lightning struck a tree. canonically hot but in a fucked up and dangerous way. odin was like "whos this hot weirdo" and decided they were brothers. your ultimate doomed by the narrative baddie. prophesied to end the universe. the god of fucking around and finding out. there are so few verifiable facts about this bitch, he is a complete enigma even among the rest of norse mythology which is already so fractured and weird. we straight up dont know how, why, or even IF he was actually worshipped. hes the only god to not have a single village dedicated to him. there are, like, two or three runestones depicting him. snorri made him into a jesus figure in the eddas but he serves so much cunt that he is repeatedly misinterpreted as literal satan. your fave could never.

LegendLark/Dames and Dragons - this is another difficult one because the characters are all so great, but im giving it to laika because i have a funny story about it. my first listen through i was in the middle of the gray manacle arc when i started asking myself who my favorite was. i decided it was laika literally the episode before she leaves 🥹

Dungeons and Daddies - i feel like my favorite should be scary, as someone who was once a goth/emo teen girl. however im gonna have to give it to my boi normally lee oak-swallows-garcia, the perky peppy chipper cheery mixed up mascot who doesnt know who he is anymore. imagine knowing your parents are disappointed with you at like, 14. imagine inheriting a generational curse except its a literal eldritch curse that you cant do anything about. imagine connecting with the mind of an incomprehensible eldritch being that is killing your reality out of loneliness and fear and hatred and deciding to show kindness.

The Locked Tomb - probably an obvious pick but its gotta be gideon nav. shes your butch sword lesbian. shes your jock trapped in a science convention. shes your tragic unloved child. shes your doomed by the narrative/came back wrong double threat. shes everything to me.

Paranatural - im not actually current, unfortunately. ever since zack changed formats ive found it difficult to read. i understand why they decided to do it the new way, but my attention span is simply not long enough. eventually i will catch up probably maybe. that said, my favorite is of course max. i just love how sassy and exasperated he is. he literally didnt ask for any of this shit. like he just moved to a new town where he doesnt know anyone and suddenly theres ghosts and he has to join an organization to fight them and his bat has a monster inside of it and he almost gets run over by a train, how fucking exhausted must this kid be all the time

Hunter X Hunter - its the only anime on the list baybee. i thought about including others but none are super current and hxh is the one that i still feel strongly about. my fave from hxh is the one, the only, killua zoldyck. my son. my angel. my precious catboy murder child. a boy who was tortured by his own family and trained to not care about other people and who was so lonely he latched onto the first boy his age that hed ever met. he is so full of love and he would do anything for his best friend, including kill people, but to be fair he would also kill people for literally any other reason

The Wheel of Time - my most recent experience with wot was rereading the eye of the world in preparation for the amazon show, which was a huge letdown for me and a lot of fans of the books. my last experience with it before that was when i was, like, 12. as a kid my favorite character was egwene, and now my favorite is...still egwene. she is a strong, confident young woman who knows what she wants and doesnt shy away from going after it. shes very strong-willed and doesnt bend to the will of others, she is unrepentantly herself. she also reads very heavily as a lesbian despite being in a (rather annoying imo) het romance with the mc. i dont think this was intentional (given the aforementioned het romance) so i wouldnt call it coding but like. shes a young adult who eschews traditional female roles and aspires to be unmarried and spend her time with other women how ELSE am i supposed to read that

Homestuck - very much NOT a current fandom, but it defined a great deal of my life, so i feel like it should be included. my favorite for this one may be the most difficult to predict, or maybe not idk, but its kanaya maryam. i remember the first time i was reading, waiting for my patron troll to pop up, and it was her. at first i paid attention to her just for that, but i fell in love with her pretty fast. i have a thing for female characters who go through arcs of self discovery and learning to value themselves outside of the opinions of others. something about starting out thinking youre a prop for other people and ending as a whole ass person is so *chefs kiss* also shes sassy and wields a chainsaw which is badass. i personally think her arc fell flat and she was underutilized in the end, but shes hardly the only one that got overlooked tbfh

im not tagging anyone mostly because i have no idea who i would tag. if youre reading this and want to do it, please do!

#tag game

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years ago

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Hi so wednesday x reader who is basically itadori who has sukuna inside of them and has already eaten 2 fingers hope its not too complicated

This was a whole lot of words and none of them were probably even what you wanted.

Your an absolute sweetheart who could do no wrong nor harm a fly. Sure you could seemingly outrun a fucking cheetah but other then that there wasn’t anything unusual about that anyone could make by staring at you.

Only until you point out the two occasions where you had swallowed two of the twenty fingers of an all powerful king of curses. That earned you a few unconvinced stares until a sharp tongued mouth and a demonic eye appeared in tandem just under your cheekbone, spouting curses and death threats towards each and every one of your friends. Fun.

The demonic bastard ruined your perfectly normal life and made you an outcast in your old school, which you were then bullied out of the entrance doors by the kids you went out of your way to save and then sent away to Nevermore by your parents who had grown deathly scared of the monster within you that threaten to re decorate the walls of your home with their blood, use their internal organs for decorations and finally utilise their hollowed out heads as lamp shades/candle holders.

Weems was notified by the most notable names of the potential danger you could unintentionally bring upon the school should the king of curses continue to use you in his hunt for the remainder of his fingers and retaining every ounce of his long forgone and mythologised power.

So with two of the twenty fingers haven been swallowed, you were already too much of a problem for Weems and Nevermore but she knew that if she left you out into the streets of Jericho and the king of curses happens to greet everyone with his own eyes, Nevermore would be finished indefinitely when word got out that she sent you away because you were too much a danger to human life to be allowed in. So much so the entire town of Jericho was slaughtered because it.

So in order to satiate her growing fear, Weems tasked the nightshades to keep tabs on you and make sure that your…demonic friends didn’t come out to play. However after the first week of no evidence of you being a massive danger to the school. The nightshades -minus Xavier and Ajax because they went out of their way to befriend you during this time- didn’t see what Weems was so worried about and left you be to do their own thing that they would’ve liked to have been doing in the first place.

So when the one time that you did loose control to the king, Ho boy he was no at all entertained by the so called secrete society that was meant to keep tabs on him. That when Ajax and Xavier were about to head down to the library the saw you or what they thought was you standing near the Poe statue; almost as though you heard them breathing you moved to look them in they eye and that’s when they begun to know why Weems was so afraid. The person staring back at them wasn’t you but the king of cursed himself.

“Shouldn’t have let your guard down Nightshades,” he spat venomously as he threw Kent at their feet to see that his pendant had been obliterated to pieces much like his face was, “this is your line of defence against threats? How pathetic, I shouldn’t have to be trying this hard to maintain my presence within this body but this punk is stronger then I originally thought them out to be.” The king spat as he felt your tugging at him getting stronger by the second as he felt his time quickly slip away.

So before he could allow you to take this moment away from him, the curse stared at the two frightened boys and heeded a them a grave warning. “I shall come back for blood, for this puny moron couldn’t ever hold me back like this forever because one day, oh-ho one day, I shall slaughter every man, woman, child and how many others in this school and in Jericho.”

Once you had regained control, Ajax and Xavier were quick to realises that the black tattoos on your body also faded away. Weems told them that you had only swallowed two fingers and they were already shitting themselves at what you/the king of curses could do if you swallowed just one more if you/him were already able to hand Kent his ass on a silver plater at just two fingers. Ajax dragged Kent to the nurses office whilst Xavier carried you back to your dorm which you didn’t have a roommate as for their safety more so then yours and camped outside your dorm until the next morning.

Ever since Ajax and Xavier have been the only two nightshades to keep an eye on you 24/7. So when Wednesday came to school. She noted that there was something odd about you that she just couldn’t put her finger on. At the comment a mouth and an eye appeared just under your cheek bone, glaring/snarling angrily at her. “What did you just say about me you freaky little meat bag?!” You slapped a hand on the mouth to shut the curse up and looked at the addams apologetically. “I’m so sorry it’s just that I ugh, it’s a stupid story really so I’ll cut you the embarrassing part and tell you that I’m now the host of a potentially powerful curse king.”

“Potentially?! You piece of shit, I AM POWERFUL! I am the fucking King of curses!” The mouth then reappeared on the back of your hand as it boldly shouts to the heavens of it’s title. “Shut the fuck up!” You hissed at the mouth as you threateningly brought out a some sour candy juice spray from your back pocket. “Don’t make me fucking use this on you again!” The curse hissed in distain like a cat but disappeared back into your skin.

“He really hates this stuff, one time I missed my mouth by a long shot and it sprayed into his eye and he wouldn’t stop screaming for hours on end.” You laughed at the memory of the powerful king of curses howling in pain over a misjudged projectile of sour candy spray. You secretly hoped you didn’t ruin anything but were already preparing to move away if you had, however once you had prepared to move elsewhere Wednesday asked, “where are you going?”

“I’m…leaving you be as I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else in this school and I don’t if you’ve heard but, I’ve already lost control once and almost killed Kent during my blackout.” You told her truthfully but she still looked unfazed by all that you’ve just said. “And?” She asks and that was when you were beginning to worry about her mental state. “And I don’t want you to be nearby incase I do black out and he does come out again.”

Wednesday looked you over before saying with confidence, “you look in control to me, so I have nothing to fear until later events and even then I wouldn’t run away as I would merely find some way to detain you until you regain consciousness.”

“She’s most certainly an interesting one, worm. Then again it must be a trait that every Addams descendant must’ve acquired at birth or something.” The curse told you that night as you were brushing your teeth, “one of ‘em got this close to actually ending me.” “How close again was it?” You asked, the curse groaned “I said this close.” The eye under your cheek bone then began to bring it’s lid down until you could just barely make out the eyelashes that were tickling your skin before it burst back open again.

“Did you catch it this time you twerp?” The curse asked you through the mirror. “Yes I did the first time actually but you were stupid enough to believe me and do it again for a second time.” You snarked back as the curse groaned at how he got duped but you told him to have it in the morning as you were already tired enough as it was and went immediately to bed and fast asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The closer you got with Wednesday the more it seemed that the curse also noticing the attachment you were forming with her. So on the occasion the curse would threaten to take over and kill her last so that when you woke up, you’d see her dead body in your bloody arms. Yet you’d always bite back that he had every opportunity to make that moment a reality for you but never did, you went as far as to call him chicken shit but the curse would just offhandedly told you that it unfortunately wasn’t time yet for that.

So whilst you waited for ‘that time’ you and Wednesday began having dates in cemeteries, crypts could abandoned house and so on with the king of curses being a nuisance now and then by popping up now and then in hopes of ruining your moment but to his dismay you had the sour candy spray on hand and would always spray it into his big mouth, where it hit him in the back of his throat and for the rest of your date you were forced to listen to him scream and cough overtly loud in reverb within your consciousness all the while you tried to remain outwardly unaffected.

Wednesday knew that you/the king of curses were a dangerous game but she was always drawn to those types of games but she would always make sure that you wouldn’t be taken over so easily like before. She also knew that the while you were conscious, the king was also conscious but to a lesser extent. His power flowed through you at a weaker rate then it did within himself which meant that when you were fighting to regain control, not only were you reliant on your own willpower but you were also somewhat reliant on a small portion of him that didn’t seek to fight those he was obviously on a whole other level then.

The curse was growing ever more intrigued by Wednesday and sooner or later abstained from his usual barbs with her in favour of doing to towards the likes of Ajax or Xavier who, in his opinion, were more fun to to scare shitless then you or Wednesday seeing as you’ve grown numb to his threats or too cocky in your ability to pull yourself back into consciousness. So he merely watched from within you, make his barbs before leaving to scheme for the day where he would finally obtain full control without your pretty interferences. One day, you, Weems, the nightshades, Nevermore and Jericho will rue the day that you dared crossed paths with the king of curses for it shall be your last.

Thornhill was already planning ahead in helping the king curse within you by tracking down the remaining fingers, then soon she’ll be on to her second phase which is to giving you the fingers then thirdly, allowing the king of curses to be able to create pure unadulterated chaos.

#wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic

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marginalias · 3 years ago

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begin & chungking express

some thoughts as a long-time queer chungking express enjoyer

while chungking express isn’t queer cinema (happy together is & shows up in other ooo work!) it explores failure and longing and alternative, socially “strange” forms of love that are familiar to queer people. in the second half of the movie, which is what begin adapts, faye wong’s character breaks into her love interest’s house and cleans his things for him, which we in a practical lens consider an invasion of privacy and stalking behavior, but in the world of heightened emotions we see it as her illicit expression of care and love for him, which he sees for what she intended it to be. they don’t “love” each other but he carries her basket of onions to work; they don’t “love” each other but she cleans his floors and replaces the broken and worn-out things in his life. she is committed to another dream; he is mired in his own post-breakup loneliness; they want to be with each other in an ill-defined way that is intimate but intentionally coy and uncertain because of other things left unfinished, other what-ifs and things that should be right.

if we take begin as a retelling of chungking express with gay characters, then the story with yoojung and kb’s characters make a different sort of sense: it’s not a quirk of personality or commitment to something else that makes yoojung’s character hesitant to approach kb, but the fear of rejection, ridicule, social repercussions, even violence. it’s dangerous to be out, and to approach the wrong stranger. (and he’s a worker while kb is a customer, besides!) in getting drunk and collapsing on him in the phone booth, kb gives yoojung an excuse to act on his desires in a socially-appropriate way - to touch him, to go into his home, to sit by his side while he sleeps, still with the plausible deniability of taking care of a drunk stranger. it’s not quite faye wong breaking into tony leung’s apartment, but it is, in its own way, an intrusion that we don’t know kb will appreciate in the morning. they both have to navigate the undefined area of mutual but unspoken attraction in a world where reading a signal the wrong way could lead to any number of awful consequences. so they don’t “love” each other but yoojung watches him sleep; they don’t “love” each other but kb comes back to find him after he wakes up alone. they want to be with each other in an ill-defined way that contains the intention of intimacy but never really begins in earnest.

faye wong and tony leung’s story ends with a return; she comes back from california after having worked as a flight attendant (she took on his ex’s job) and finds that he’s bought the snack bar and is in the middle of refurbishing it. begin ends much earlier in the story - both less and more bittersweet. less, because they haven’t had to truly part yet, much less return to each other; more, because we don’t know yet whether they’re even going to speak to each other, and because queer love, which heteronormative society already considers “failed” love, is fraught with danger. chungking express is also about “failed” loves (breakups, missed connections, longing that never comes to fruition), and begin gets to play with that idea - it’s about wider social failures as well as the inhibition of personal fears. when are you allowed to stop loving someone? when are you allowed to start loving someone else? (when are you allowed to admit to yourself that you’re not straight? when are you allowed to admit to yourself that you’re something else?)

faye wong takes care of tony leung’s fish and folds his laundry; she inserts himself into his life without asking, because she’s afraid of being caught loving someone, and afraid of not being cared for in the same way. she wants to love in secret where there won’t be any repercussions. but she wants to be caught, in a way; she’s jealous of his attention and disapproves of her competitors. isn’t that a familiar tune to queer viewers? isn’t that what begin tries to address? yoojung folds paper cranes out of gum wrappers and wishes for something. he leaves before kb wakes up. all these expressions of love in ways that he wants the object of his affections to see, but doesn’t yet dare to let him.

tl;dr gay chungking express good, ooo once again beating the queerbaiting allegations

#onlyoneof #m

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.

Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.

My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.

We good? Alright.

So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.

Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.

And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.

Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.

So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:

The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.

The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel

The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)

So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.

The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security

So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.

Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature.

Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.

So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.

However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.

By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.

The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.

It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.

So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.

However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?

From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in).

So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.

Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.

Then we have the protections.

Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.

Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird.

Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.

More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket.

Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.

More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.

Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.

What kind of a person would do any of this?

I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.

Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.”

The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death

I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.

Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.

He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.

There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.

And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.

He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.

He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.

Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend). Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.

Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!

And the castle parties.

The Nature of Horcruxes

I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.

However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).

Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.”

One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.

However, to me that never really jived philosophically.

Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most.

The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are).

In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.

Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again.

As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too.

And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.

TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years ago

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Childish Infatuation [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Childish Infatuation Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 27 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Benedict fic :) Summary: [x] After 8 years you finally come back to London. Seeing Benedict intensifies all those feelings you have been harbouring for him, but the fear of rejection lingers in the back of your mind.

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

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“Eloise! You must come here,” Benedict shouted, running after his sister, circling around the sofa in a childish manner. You watched the two siblings acting in a way society would have judged them for, but in your eyes, they looked like a family filled with love. Benedict has grown into a dashingly handsome young man, one that you didn’t expect to see. His smile was like a little child’s, far from the grown man he was meant to be, but his features must have made women fall on their knees before him.

“Leave that poor girl alone,” you chipped in with an adoring smile as they turned towards you. Clear confusion sat across their faces, both debating your identity. Eloise was struggling, she was only a child when you left, but Benedict’s growing eyes reassured you of his realisation. However, before he could have even spoken a word, Anthony walked into the room with his head held high, his eyes demanding respect. Halting his steps, he carefully studied your features, before his initial shock quickly turned into a grand smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from returning his expression as he walked up to you and embraced you in a brotherly hug.

“I shall think you missed me, should you keep hugging me,” you giggled happily as you wrapped your arms around him, missing his brooding mood, sarcastic remarks and never-ending scolding. Although you knew hugging him was wrong and it could have been deemed inappropriate by many, but he was more of a brother to you than your own.

“I’m quite certain you were not a brat when you left. I’m unsure about the change,” he squinted, watching you with eager eyes, before his lips curved into a playfully smile, earning a gentle punch from you. The manners of a lady could not have been farther from you, but you didn’t mind, you loved yourself the way you were.

“I wasn’t a brat nor am I brat now. I’ll have you know, I’m a lady and I would like you to treat me accordingly, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied with a slight attitude as you pulled away from his embrace. His reaction, a loud scoff was certainly not what you expected.

“I apologise, but you are still that tiny ankle-biter who left 8 years ago,” he chuckled playfully. You grimaced at him, once again defying those precious manners you have been taught by your dear mother.

“Ankle-biter? I’ll have you know, I was 16 years old, not a child, Anthony,'' astonished by his reply, you pursed your lips, sulking unlike a mature adult you were supposed to be.

“You will always be a little sister to me therefore I call you however I wish to,” he snorted proudly, but before you could have even thought of a smart reply, Benedict interrupted your conversation.

“Are you-? Is it-? I-,” however he tried to find the right words, Benedict was unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Should I understand?” you turned to Anthony, but he seemed as confused as you did, trying to figure out what his brother was trying to say.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” Benedict asked, his words hesitant as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Might be. I am unsure about who you think I may be,” you chuckled playfully. However, your laughter died down as two strong arms sneaked around your waist and lifted you up in the air, holding onto you strongly, making you feel unexpectedly safe and secure. You wished to be in his arms for years, a simple thought of his smile made you keep going. Folding your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to enjoy his embrace, heaving a deep sigh in comfort. You knew hugging him was inappropriate, but not for the same reasons as hugging Anthony. Having genuine feelings towards Benedict, thinking of him as a man, someone you could have imagined a future with made it wrong, but absolutely beautiful.

He placed your feet on the ground and cupped your face, kissing your forehead, starting your heart off in a dangerous race. From the corner of your eyes, you caught Anthony’s, trying to act as if he didn’t see his brother being more than slightly inappropriate. “Why didn’t you tell me in your last letter? Should I have known that you were to come home, we would have prepared,” he frowned, but his happy smile never faltered.

His hands wandered down your arms and held onto your hands, securing his fingers around them as he drew tiny circles with the tip of his thumb on your skin. Should you have removed your hands from his hold? Should you have created a space between you? Logically that would have been the right decision. But your feelings for Benedict were beyond logical. The man has had your heart since the very first day you met and whilst you never imagined growing genuine feelings from such a childish infatuation, now you stood in front of him with a beaming smile, looking at him as if he was the only man on earth.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you giggled, slightly shrugging your shoulders. “I did tell you that we might meet soon again,”

“I’m certain you have told me that for the past 8 years. Should I have believed you?” he asked, but you knew it was a rhetorical question and instead you just shook your head.

“Anthony, Benedict, I have heard news. Mr and Mrs-,” Daphne ran inside the room, holding onto her beautiful, light blue dress, her breathing shallow, her eyes wide in shock.

“It’s been a long time, Daph,” you smiled at the girl who has grown into a beautiful young woman.

“You are back,” she giggled happily as she ran up to you, holding onto your hands, squeezing them as if she was trying to make sure you were indeed present.

Reconnecting with the Bridgerton siblings felt as if you found a part of your life that has been missing for years. They were always close to you, even more so than your own brothers. In the past 8 years since you've been gone, you thought about them every single day, hoping to meet them again. Now that you finally did, you felt whole again.

As you sat at the dining table, right beside Benedict, you tried to concentrate on the delicious food in front of you, but he didn’t seem to share your priorities. He was a man on a mission, trying to distract you. Gently nudging your leg with his for the past 10 minutes didn’t seem to affect you. Or so he thought. You knew what he wanted.

When you were little, he always kept kicking you under the table as soon as he was done eating and he wanted you to follow him. It was an unspoken arrangement between the two of you and at first you were certain he didn’t remember, but the obvious indications and subtle messages reassured you that he knew what he was doing.

You have not been following the conversation between your parents and Mrs. Bridgerton, nor did you want to listen. Your complete attention has been occupied by Benedict and the man had the audacity to feel proud of himself.

“Mama?” you called out to your mother, waiting for her to halt the conversation for a mere second. When she finally looked at you, you continued. “May I please be excused?” your mother gave you a suspicious look before she turned to Benedict as if she knew what was going on. You expected her to say no, but instead a small smile spread across her face.

“Hurry back, darling,” she replied with a knowing look. You wanted to believe it was your own imagination playing a silly game with you, but your mother seemed unexpectedly happy to let you go.

You stood up from the table and headed towards the hall, before you walked behind the stairs and hurried your steps towards the garden. Standing beside the door, all alone, you let out a satisfied giggle. Looking at Benedict made you happy. The simple sight of him made your stomach fill up with thousands of dancing butterflies. But knowing he wanted to sneak around to see you in private just like 8 years ago, it made you feel like a foolish teenager again.

The door opened beside you, revealing a mischievously smiling Benedict. “I thought you didn’t understand,” he scoffed playfully.

“Indeed, I didn’t. I was confused. Surely, I thought you must have forgotten about our sign,” you explained with a wide, happy smile across your face.

“Would never,” he grinned proudly as he held onto your hand and started running with you to the other end of the garden, hidden away from the curious eyes. As soon as you reached a safe distance, he let go of your hand and continued walking ahead of you. However, you didn’t move. You watched his wide shoulders and narrow hips moving as he kept going forward. From a sudden urge, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek against his back, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his coat. A part of you wished he didn’t hear you, fearing rejection coming your way. But another part of you couldn’t hold your feelings inside anymore.

“Do you think I didn’t?” he turned around in your arms with a soft smile across his face, one that you could have easily mistaken for a loving one. “I have been exchanging letters with you for the past 8 years. I thought I would never see you again, but I never thought of ever giving up on you,” he cupped your cheeks, lifting your head up to be able to look into your eyes. Your cheeks heated up, under his intense gaze. You wished to be closer to him, to feel his body against you, but your racing heart and the fear of rejection stopped you.

“What did you think when I arrived, and you recognised me?” you asked curiously.

“Disbelief? Surprise? I couldn’t possibly believe my own eyes,” he chuckled at the sight of your slightly disappointed expression and hunched over back. You were ready to remove your arms from his waist, but he quickly got hold of them and carefully placed them back around himself, before he placed his hands back on your cheeks. “I’m sensing those aren’t the words you expected. Shall I continue?”

“Is there more?” you asked as you curiously straightened your posture again.

“Indeed, there is. I was shocked. I have not seen you, nor have you ever sent a photo for the past 8 years. I could not have imagined in my wildest of dreams to have you become this beautiful. You have always been pretty, but when you arrived and I first laid eyes on you, I certainly forgot how to speak for a second,” he chuckled awkwardly, making you giggle happily. His words could have been enough for you to confess your own love for him, but you stopped yourself.

You knew you weren’t lady-like, but that was you and Benedict’s growing smile reassured you that you could always be yourself around him. However, it didn’t reassure you enough of his own feelings. He certainly made you happy, might have even made you the happiest woman walking the earth. But confessing your own feelings without reassurance of his own, you weren’t that brave.

“Well, my dear lord, you have certainly become charming and handsome yourself,” you wiggled your brows playfully.

“Are you satisfied with my features?” he asked with a proud and confident grin.

“A little change here and there and I think we can work with it, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shrugged playfully, trying to hide your everlasting smile. He inhaled sharply, clear shock painted across his face, his mouth parted involuntarily, but he couldn’t hide the devilish smile in the corner of his lips.

As if your senses knew what he wanted to do, you quickly let go of his waist and started running away from him, expecting some form of a punishment. He didn’t have to run fast to catch you, your dress slowed you enough for him to reach you with one arm, gently pulling you down on the grass with him. He quickly changed position, hovering above you, his weight only held by his arms on each side of your face. The previously happy smile disappeared from your face, instead your complete attention turned to his dangerously close lips, his intoxicating cologne and his eyes that seemed to focus on your mouth.

“Benedict?” you whispered in fear of ruining the moment. “Do you remember our promise from when we were children?” a deep frown sat between his brows at your question.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Back when we were little, we promised to marry each other. Can you recall that?” your tone was more hopeful than ever before, and you were certain Benedict could hear it.

“It was a silly little game back then,” he smiled blissfully, but for you that simple expression which made you the happiest woman a moment ago now felt as if you were stabbed in the chest.

“It was not for me,” you furrowed. You wished he thought of that childish agreement as sincerely as you, but his rejection confirmed your worst fears. He didn’t. You felt your eyes fill up with unshed tears, your throat dangerously suffocating you, your chest becoming heavy as you tried to sit up. You wanted to disappear, feeling foolish about waiting 8 years for a man who couldn’t love you the way you wished he would. But Benedict didn’t move.

“It is certainly not a game to me now,” he added quickly as he realised your tears and distanced behaviour. “I wouldn’t have exchanged letters with you for 8 years should you have not been important to me. I have loved you long before you left, but I couldn’t offer you anything back then. I was a mere child. A foolish 19-year-old boy who was confused about his own feelings. However, now I know what I want.”

“What do you want?” you whispered in astonishment, his words awakening hope in you again, excited butterflies flapping around in your stomach.

“You!” he stated firmly and before you knew it, his lips met yours, kissing you for the first time feverishly. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer. You never knew how it felt to be kissed nor could you ever imagine it. But now that Benedict was kissing you, his lips against yours fitting perfectly made you quickly understand why they regarded kissing someone other than your husband a sin. If it wasn��t for Benedict pulling away, you would have never let him go.

Although slightly breathless, you giggled against his lips hovering above yours. “Shall we repeat that?” you asked boldly, earning a chuckle from him.

“I’d like nothing more, but-” he smiled at you with an adoring look in his eyes. “not now. Tomorrow morning, I shall talk to your father and ask him for your hand in marriage. I will not have anyone stealing you away from me again whether it be your parents or any possible suitor.”

“That vaguely sounds as if you were proposing to me,” you beamed at him, enthralled which earned you a loud laughter from him.

“As soon as your father gives us his blessing, I will propose to you in a way you could never imagine,” he replied proudly, before he pushed himself up and reached for your hand to help you up beside him.

“I can’t possibly wait to see that,” you giggled happily, biting into your bottom lip, trying to contain yourself as you walked back to the mansion. Reaching the entrance of the house, he quickly pulled you into his embrace, his arm holding onto your waist safely as he placed a small peck on your lips.

“Don’t bite your lips,” he heaved a deep sigh as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling your scent. “Surely, I will not do anything until our marriage, but should I ask of you not to do something, please refrain yourself from doing it,” his tone was desperate, waking your curiosity.

“Would you mind stealing a kiss maybe on occasions?” you giggled playfully, earning a heartfelt laughter from him.

“I could never deny that from you,” he planted a kiss on your neck and gently nudged you towards the door. “You have to go back first, I shall follow soon,” he gave you the instructions.

“After you have talked to my father, will you come see me?” you asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Now go,” he ushered you in with a foolish smile across his face. As soon as you disappeared behind the door, his smile grew wider and defying all his maturity he happily jumped around in his place, laughing at the memories you left him with, giddy and slightly nervous about the next day. But for now, he could only think of you and the childish infatuation he once felt for you and over time grew into a strong love, he felt he could barely contain.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglist: (If you would like to be tagged on my Bridgerton fics, feel free to let me know ^^)

@shelby-love @breadqueen95 @keithseabrook27 @nuttytani-reblogs @aspiringsloth20

#Benedict Bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader one shot #benedict bridgerton x reader imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton oneshot #Bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton #Daphne Bridgerton

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

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How Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo would react to their S/O in the hospital

Hi, anon! You are welcome to join my Discord Server if you are a fan of Hxh, Voltron, or both! I promise this is a safe environment! This is an interesting topic for sure! To the other anon(s), I am working on your request! This will contain both fluff and angst. I forgot to include Leorio in this, so I’ll include him in the next HxH post. You’ll have to forgive me, I have 2 more requests in my inbox and I am not feeling the best. I just got my second Covid shot and it is hurting like hell. Nevertheless, I encourage you all to get your shot if you can. I will be on this site one and off and I should be on it for real next week. I have run out of ideas to write and I began to think I was annoying people with my HxH content (no one said this I just assumed). This post has 1974 words. After these requests are finished, I plan on doing a character analysis for Leorio.

Anyway, let’s get into the post!

We’ll start with Hisoka this time.

Hisoka

In all honesty, this man has heard of a hospital (since he sends a lot of people to it after fights) but has never been in one.

The signs, floors, staircase numbers, and elevators all confuse him. He has only been in one once when he was a kid and has never been again.

He isn’t a social butterfly in this setting because this is a professional establishment and not a college party. Asking for directions takes quite a toll on him because of his established pride. You know guys act when they want to find a destination on their own and will go miles out of the way instead of just asking for direction.

He doesn’t talk to anyone; all he wants to do is find you and make sure you are alright.

He is the tallest person in the freight elevator. So tall that everyone at turns to look at him at once for at least 10 seconds and turn back around surprised.

“How tall is he,” one of the nurses ask.

“Tall enough to be my house!”

This annoys him. He takes out the Joker card and lays it against his thigh but realizes he cannot make any hasty decisions. His bloodlust was activated merely out of irritation and not by threat. You were on his mind and destroying these worthless humans wasn’t an option for today.

He approached the guest desk and waited for about 2 minutes before he was acknowledged.

“May I help you,” a smug receptionist asked. Wow, these people do not know who they’re talking to.

“I’m here to see y/n.”

“Y/n is in room 345. Go down the hall and to the right all the way down.”

This man nearly ran with a quickness! His jester shoes somehow made the floor shake as he ran.

You were awake, eating the horrible food the hospital provided and watching TV. It seemed like you were doing ok, but you had just been in a car accident. Your arms and right leg were still sore. It was so bad that you’d be fine with Hisoka carrying you everywhere.

When you two are alone in serious public places, he doesn’t play games or tricks. He is often portrayed as a ruthless man, but in settings like this, he places the jokes and games aside for later. When he enters your room, he is silent for 30 seconds. Much too long. He was shocked; he walked around your hospital bed, pulled up a chair, and stared at your cast. It had many names written on it.

“Yes, I am ok.”

“I apologize for not being there for you,” he began to say.

“Shh… it’s ok. This is life. It hurts like hell, but I’m a trooper!”

Admiring your cast and its multiple fonts of handwriting and messages, he grabbed a sharpie marker, wrote his name, with a heart and spade next to it. Surprisingly, his cursive was very neat and legible.

“I didn’t know you knew how to write in cursive! Why don’t you write me letters?”

“I see you every day and it hurts my hand.”

The doctor wouldn’t be in for another 1 ½ hours, so Hisoka used your thigh as a pillow as he took a nap. He had been up for countless nights thinking about you. He was screwing up so bad, Chrollo let him leave early.

“As soon as your better, we will fight again. I won’t go easy on you. You won’t be in the hospital but you get the jest.”

Illumi

Illumi isn’t the type of man to overreact in these types of situations. When you both agreed to date each other, you knew you all were tough cookies. You were aware of the dangers of dating an assassin and he knew about the dangers of dating a bounty hunter. People hated you both and you targeted.

One night you both were caught in a vulnerable state. While you both enjoyed chocolate milkshakes at a laid-back 1950’s styled diner, two men were previously thrown out for fighting. While your back was turned one of those men shot your arm, causing you to carelessly throw your body to the ground due to impact.

While everyone else was screaming, Illumi jumped to the ground and tied his hair tie around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“Illu, why does it feel cold in here,” you managed to breathe out.

His heart dropped to his stomach for the first time in history.

“Don’t say things like that!”

Illumi is already horrible at displaying emotions, but all he could do is frown in fear. Once the EMS came barling in, he demanded that he ride with you.

Illumi hadn’t experienced anything like this since Killua had been injured when he fell from a tree.

You and he were separated when you were rushed into surgery leaving him alone in the waiting room.

When Illumi is stressed and cannot properly display how he feels, he tends to act in “odd” ways.

He begins to furiously turn pages in magazines or bother the receptions every 2 minutes about the status of your surgery. When the woman finally says that you’re still alive, he tones it down a little.

Illumi is open to conforming advice from strangers; he has been receiving it secretly from strangers. Since Silva was busy abusing him, he often found comfort from “the streets”.

He has a bad habit of pacing back and forth and fidgeting in his seat while horrific images fill his mind. All he has seen is pain and even though he was used to it, he didn’t want you to go through it as well.

While sitting in his seat (finally!) and head in his lap, doubled over indescribable sorrow, a little girl walks up to him with her hands folded and a doll under her arms. Illumi feels her presence and looks up. The girl’s curly hair covered her endearing eyes and her smile is wide.

“They’ll be alright. I just know they will,” turning around returning to her mother, the girl said with confidence.

On cue, Illumi placed his hand over his heart, smiling just a little.

He walked quickly to your room once you were out of surgery.

His speed walk mimics one of a soldier; his left arm in since with his right leg. His shoes echoed throughout the hall.

As soon as he enters the room, he shuts the door harder than usual and gives you a tight embrace. This surprises you! You’re lucky if he lays his head on your shoulder!

Illumi had been working out lately. He wanted to beat you in the “squish the melon” contest. He is very competitive and even if he lost, that doesn’t hurt his ego. Not in the slightest. Since it was just the both of you alone, he bends down to hug you tight, so tight that your face is squished against his.

This behavior is only surprising because he usually doesn’t coddle you even when you get hurt, but this time he realized that you could have died from the gunshot wound.

After that he kissed your forehead and almost simultaneously the doctor barreled in just missing the sweet moment between you and your beau.

Chrollo

When Chrollo is holding meetings with the Phantom Troupe, he always appears to be neutral. That is very important. A leader has to show strength even through the worst/hurtful times of their lives.

Chrollo had gotten a call from Nobunaga that you had gotten hurt on a mission and had actually gotten captured by the enemy. Phinks was able to get you back but you suffered horrible injuries.

This is protocol; they do this for any of the members. The troupe was oblivious to the fact that you and Chrollo were dating. They thought you were here to replace Uvo.

In situations like this, he is calm on the outside but screaming on the inside. Common sense will tell you if you are startled by the news you’ve just received and you begin to drive, you could cause more harm on the way to your destination.

Chrollo is very silent; he doesn’t call to check on your status or anything; he would rather see it for himself.

You were a trooper! After all, you are dating a dangerous robber.

Chrollo already knew what room you were in so he just went.

“I knew I should have kept y/n by my side. Y/n insisted on doing my dirty work that they almost died! How foolish could I have been?” He constantly cursed himself for letting his guard down with you.

He always gave you room to think and complete your own tasks but he can’t help his protective nature; one he has for the troupe but times 10.

His childhood friends had been shot by law enforcers, his home was horrific, and the last thing he needed was for you to be gone. You were keeping him afloat in society.

When he opened the door, Phinks was sitting in a chair, one leg over the other, laughing at a TikTok video.

Nobunaga on the other hand was watching the world news and seemed invested that he didn’t hear Chrollo enter the room. Once they both saw, they stood to their feet.

“Y/n is ok boss. They suffered a few cuts and burns, but they're breathing.”

Chrollo’s straight face remained as he stared at you.

Chrollo’s silence is something the troupe has internalized as a sign of anger, rage, or both. When he didn’t speak and just stared, everyone knew that their next mission was going to be a brutal one.

Chrollo is a man that isn’t afraid to express how he feels. He could cry right now if he wanted to and no one would dare laugh at him or insult him. After all, Nobunaga cried when he realized Uvo was dead.

Nobunaga and Phinks excused themselves as they saw him place his hand over his mouth.

Once the door closed, He pulled up the chair, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. His warmth woke you up instantly and you turned your head. You winced in pain causing Chrollo to jump from his seat, moving to your right side so you wouldn’t turn your head too much.

“I’m glad you're alive, darling. What were you doing putting yourself in danger? Feitan could have handled the beast!”

He isn’t trying to doubt your ability to fight, he’s just concerned for your safety. Even so, why would he insist that you join the spiders?

A tear dropped from his face as he silently kissed your hand three times. You smiled warmly and placed your right left hand on top of his.

“I am fine, boss. You need not worry. I’m a trooper, remember?”

He placed your hand against his dry cheek and continued to kiss it. You were his lifeline and he wanted to spend every moment with you.

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juiceastronaut · 3 years ago

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If I can throw in my two cents about the whole Camila situation:

Honestly what I think is happening is people are projecting their own experiences a little too deeply onto Luz and vilifying Camila because they don't have a great relationship with their parents. I also think people's minds are jumping to the worst-case scenario of what the camp actually is (I don't think the answer is conversion therapy cmon guys this is a kid's show). The overall lesson in the Boiling Isles is that one needs to learn to consider the effect of their actions on others, especially if it's linked to one's creativity. It celebrates being different but also doesn't say that you can act any way you want because you're different. I think a lot of people are closer to Pilot Luz than they realize, and since they haven't gotten that reality check themselves, view these lessons for Luz as an attack on her, and thus an attack on themselves because they haven't learned that lesson yet. But anyway, back to the camp.

I think what's happening is people are getting really hung up about the "Think Inside the Box!" slogan from the first episode, which may seem to directly want to stifle kids' creativity. I think there are two explanations this can fall under, an in-universe one and an out-of-universe one. The in-universe explanation is that maybe the marketing team really sucks and in an attempt to be quirky and creative (look at us we're subverting a popular phrase!) it came off as really bad. The second explanation is, I don't think the Owl House team was thinking that far ahead when constructing the pilot, and how relevant the camp was going to be in later episodes, so they put a little joke in there to both get a laugh out of people, and to quickly solidify that Luz doesn't want to go to that camp and the reason for that. I think some light dismissal of earlier episodes is in order here, because a lot has happened between the pilot and now, and obviously, the reconstruction in Yesterday's Lie is the reality that the crew wants the viewers to go forward with. Maybe the camp wouldn't have even been that bad.

Maybe if Luz actually went she would've had a good time there. I think the more accurate interpretation is...maybe it did suck, but she would've still been able to garner good experiences from it, friends as well, so that going wouldn't have been all that bad, or at least not a living nightmare. Remind you of anyplace? (the answer is school). So maybe Luz would've had the reality check she needed, learning skills and making friends, and still have the camp be an unpleasant experience. I think those can both coexist, and I don't think the camp needs to be literal conversion therapy in order to achieve that. Okay, onto Camila.

Camila isn't perfect. I know people throw around that phrase a lot but I don't think you can find a more apt situation to apply this too. Carmilla, trying her best to do what's right by Luz, sometimes stumbles and does the exact opposite, but doing that out of love for Luz. I fully subscribe to the theory that the camp wasn't really her idea, and more of a suggestion by the school or Luz would have faced expulsion. Again, the pilot didn't really put weight on Luz's actions, but as of the most recent episode its obvious that Luz was close to receiving a very serious consequence by endangering people by bringing snakes and explosives into school. In the first few episodes it was a way to show that Luz was quirky and didn't fit in with the other kids, but as Luz has matured on the Boiling Isles that lets us revisit those scenarios in a different light. I'm sure Luz didn't see anything wrong with what she did, and the framing reflects that, maybe she'll feel differently now after the character growth she's gotten.

Camila loves that Luz is creative, and she loves her daughter for who she is. She even actively engages with Luz in her interests, as seen in Yesterdays's Lie. But as a parent its also Camilas responsibility to raise Luz into a person that can interact with society in a healthy way. Of course, that would be personally tailored to Luz as a person, and she shouldn't try to make Luz fit a certain standard, but that's not what's happening here.

Camila would be enabling Luz if she just allowed her to continue with these high stakes, highly dangerous expressions of "creativity" because Luz was posing a danger to others and to herself. I would actually say Camila would have been a bad parent if she made excuses for Luz's behavior and didn't do anything to curb that. Maybe camp wasn't 100% the best course of action to take, but at least she does something to make sure Luz feels the weight of her actions. I don't even think of the camp as a punishment per se, which is leaps and bounds above what any other parent would do in that situation (I'm under the belief that punishment isn't always the most effective way to facilitate behavior in children). Camila putting her foot down doesn't make her a bad parent, its what a parent should be doing in this situation!

By the end of the episode Yesterdays Lie, Camila's whole life was turned upside down. The person she thought was her daughter actually wasn't her daughter and her actual daughter chose to leave her and is now stuck in a completely different world where she can't reach or even talk to her. I think it's unfair to her to expect her to rationally react to that situation in any capacity. Her daughter left her and she desperately wanted her back, and was/is fearful of losing her again. That's why she made Luz promise to stay when she got back. She doesn't want to lose her again. She blames herself for driving her daughter away, probably for all the above reasons in relation to the camp, maybe for something else entirely.

The thing is, Luz didn't have enough time to explain to her mom what exactly went into her motivations to stay on the Boiling Isles. She wasn't even going to stay there permanently, she was going to go back when camp ended why? For her mom. She didn't want to be away from her any longer than she expected to be away. It was only after the whole Belos thing happened that she was stuck. But she didn't have the time to explain that. So essentially what Camila heard was "Im stuck over here with no way home and I chose that. for myself." Damn I'd get upset too! This whole thing is a misunderstanding I don't for one second think any situation where Camila forces her home to never see her friends again, or Luz being forced to break her promise and stay on the Isles forever is actually going to come to fruition. Luz will probably tell Camila about her time in the Isles and Camila will go "Oh my god I'm so happy you made friends, okay of course you can go back and forth" because I assume they'll have fixed/have another door by then.

In conclusion, Camila is an actual imperfect mother in the most literal sense, instead of saying someone's imperfect but never misstepping when it comes to taking care of her kids. She messes up, doesn't do the right thing because she's working against forces outside of her control or is having a very human reaction to a genuinely stressful situation. People are projecting their own home lives a little too much into Luz's situation which I think leads to people being harsher with Camila than she deserves. She's a good mom, and I think a realistic and complex character. Y'all are just mean.

Also anyone saying that Camila having a flip-flop (la chancla) in her purse is a sign that Luz is being abused...are you on crack? Is it crack you're smoking? No, but it's a haha shout out to the latino community it's not that deep oh my go--

#wholy guacamole i didn't expect to write that much #but yeah I really don't think Camilas treatment is fair or even all that deserved #people say they want complex characters then actually get one and immediately deem them as evil #that's literally what's happening here.#cut her a break she's a woman trying her best #camila noceda #luz noceda #the owl house

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paulbunyanstatue · 3 years ago

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When Tim’s head finally dropped and landed heavily on Bruce’s arm with a small snore passing through his parted lips, the man understood patrol over Gotham’s twilight-shadowed streets was coming to an end for the night. Batman and Robin already stopped two attempted robberies and helped a small child find her parents after accidentally wandering away from a local gas station in the middle of a long overnight trip through the town. Tim was never as talkative as Dick on patrol, or even Jason for that matter, but Bruce noticed when he became particularly quiet just after the Gotham clock rang midnight. Bruce wondered if something related to his schooling was bothering the kid, but Tim just said they were fine when Bruce asked about the classes he was taking. Bruce then asked how Tim’s father was, wondering if the quiet demeanor was due to an argument at home, but Tim said he was fine too.

Bruce understood when Tim’s eyes slipped closed the first time, long past a blink and shown in a mimicking movement of the lenses of his domino mask. His chin slowly inched down toward his own chest and Bruce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He found it hilarious that the kid could sleep anywhere. Bruce once found him stretched across Dick’s old gymnastic bars in the bat cave, mouth hung ajar and feet dangling over the edge. Alfred found Tim sprawled out across a pool table one evening. He and Dick had been playing but when the older stepped away to accept a work phone call, Tim fell asleep there. Bruce's favorite by far was finding Tim standing propped up against the desk at the bank, bo staff extended and acting as a support beam, while Bruce finished apprehending the robbers. Now, Bruce cleared his throat and pretended not to see when Tim’s head snapped up alongside the sudden widening of the gray lens. The second time Tim fell asleep on patrol that night, the child’s temple landed resting against Bruce’s upper arm and he glanced carefully at his gauntlet to see it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. The hour was earlier than he would normally call off patrol, but the idea of keeping Tim out of a bed for much longer felt heavy in his chest.

Bruce purposefully scuffed his boot against the edge of the building on which the pair were perched, climbing to his feet in the process and watching from the corner of his eye as Tim scrambled up on shaky legs. Bruce knew those blue eyes were blown wide underneath the mask with the surprise of suddenly being woken up. He guided Tim to the opposite edge of the building, momentarily considering they grapple to the neighboring roof to further wake him. But he dismissed that as exceptionally dangerous given his Robin had already fallen asleep twice that night.

Tim crouched down next to Batman, purposefully on his haunches in favor of sitting comfortably flat on the ground, and crossed his arms over his knees. Bruce was bored tonight, but he couldn’t deny he preferred it this way on the evenings that he was accompanied by a child. He still felt his skin crawl when they were forced to fight a violent rogue, particularly after Tim was trapped in a silo with Dick acting violently on fear gas. Bruce often thought back to that night and his cheeks flushed with shame. He despised the way he reacted, so caught up in his anger and terror that he made Tim feel small and like a failure. Alfred had given Bruce a sharp, furious look when he found out what happened during Robin’s rescue that evening. He gave Bruce the silent treatment and provided disappointed looks until Bruce relented and apologized to Tim in earnest.

After another hour of silence disturbed only by the tearing of tires along a road and one screeching car alarm sounding (which was followed by a muttered curse by the owner before the noise ceased and left an echoing of this disturbance in the quiet air), Bruce granted them both the opportunity to go home. Catching up on sleep would benefit him too, as it turns out. He knows he’s heard that enough from Alfred.

“Robin,” his gravely voice was only a hint softer than usual, even Tim had a difficult time noticing. “Come.” With a bitten groan, Tim stood up and stretched up toward the polluted sky, bending his back and yawning largely.

Like a cat, Bruce thought. No wonder Selena thought the kid was adorable.

“What’s happening, Batman?” Tim whispered, listening carefully for sirens. “Did you get a call?”

“No,” Bruce responded easily. “We are done for the night. The streets are gentle enough.”

Tim nodded in agreement. They did seem gentle enough.

They approached the edge of the roof and Bruce glanced down at the hard concrete far below their feet, and sudden terror filled his mind. This particular fear consisted of seeing Robin sprawled out on the sidewalk, so far from the roof and twisted on the ground next to a missed or broken grapple, was a near-constant nuisance in the back of his mind. Sometimes in the thick of his anxious dreams, he still heard the sound of Dick’s parents when they fell to their death before him, a sickening thud that echoed throughout the crowd. Today and standing next to one so tired brought that thought forward with a blow to his gut.

“Robin...” he began, a hesitant whisper that brought Tim blinking largely up at him. “I’m going to repel us both down, okay?”

Tim frowned at the notion. He hadn’t repelled with Bruce since his first few training days when he was still growing accustomed to the sensation of falling that flooded his belly after his feet left the roof top, save one instance in that silo when Tim’s grappling hook was broken. But other than that, Bruce had always trusted that Tim was able to do that himself. Tim was suddenly riddled with the fear that he did something wrong, something to anger Bruce. The man called off patrol early in the night and now he was ordering Tim not to use his own grappling hook. Tim warily looked out at the night sky and wondered if Bruce was planning on firing him.

The thick silence stood in companionship to the changes of worry dancing across the face before Bruce, and he tried to soften the lines tracing his own jaw in response. He could clarify his reasoning, and he even knew that he should do that to alleviate the tension and anxiety. He should tell Tim that he saw him falling asleep and this was simply a precaution, nothing more. But instead, he beckoned the boy with a glove and ordered, “Come.”

Tim’s heels begged to remain planted on the concrete roof, urging him to defend his place as Batman’s new Robin. But his sworn obedience pushed him forward anyway, nearer to Bruce. He tried to ignore the arm wrapping around his waist and the feeling of being pulled against Bruce’s chest as his feet lifted from the ground, but an embarrassed flush colored his cheeks anyway. The position was comfortable and he wished for this modified hug more often after having had the privilege of being held by the very person that he could never admit out loud to holding a parental position in his mind. But his stubborn brain reminded him harshly of the reality surrounding him. Bruce wasn’t his father, and Tim believed Bruce saw him as more of a business partner. Batman and Robin; Tim knew that from the very start of the arrangement.

Tim saw Bruce act fatherly toward his first two Robins, even during their time spent as “normal people.” He had witnessed Bruce hugging Dick and draping his arm around Jason’s shoulders at the fancy parties his own parents forced him to. He witnessed Bruce murmur jokes to his children who snickered in response and shoved him back playfully, and Tim watched as they shared food from a single plate and silently mimicked the ridiculous high society that surrounded them. Tim longed for that attention as he turned back to his own parents who hardly spoke to him during these parties. Instead, they waved toward him and bragged about his grades to other parents who also didn’t really care.

Tim wanted those hugs and shoulder drapes as well, as Bruce’s new Robin. But that was different, Dick and Jason were actually Bruce’s sons. And Tim was not his-

Tim’s feet landed on the solid alleyway stone, his heel dipped in a sticking puddle, and didn’t that suit his situation perfectly?

“Come on,” Bruce said again and Tim sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Bruce never wasted his time on patrol ordering Tim to follow. That was a mandatory expectation since his very first day wearing the dark cape and R across his chest. But he did follow, tailing closely behind Bruce until he slid silently into the passenger seat of the sleekly-hidden Batmobile. He buckled his seat belt as Bruce started the engine from his place behind the wheel.

“Batman,” Tim began, forcing his voice louder than the mere whisper he wished to produce. Bruce grunted in question. “Are we patrolling somewhere else tonight?”

“At home in a bed,” Bruce answered smoothly.

“And is something wrong with my grapple?”

“I sure hope not.” The same easy answer.

Tim bit his lower lip and thought, so Bruce doesn't care that he is ridding himself of me so soon after allowing me to join in crime-fighting. Ouch. Tim took another deep breath and silently worked on removing his domino mask, snatching the solution from the glove box and slowly peeling the corners from his face. When at last he was free of the mask, he stared out the window and watched the street lamps pass by with a pale yellow glow, seemingly taunting Tim throughout the long drive back home.

Not home, Tim reminded himself sharply. Even though he stayed there a few times overnight when patrol leaked into dusk and when he suffered an injury that required him a safe bed in Bruce’s sick bay and guest bedroom, it was not his home. Tim had a home and he had a living father, and Bruce wasn’t his dad. He crossed his arms protectively over his chest, sinking lower into his seat and purposefully ignoring the confused look it gained from Bruce. He watched the shadowed alleyways pass by as his temple fell back to lean against the head rest so he could only watch the streets pass them by. Tim did not notice when his eyes slipped closed.

Bruce finally pulled into the cave entrance and threw another glance toward Tim. The kid was still asleep and Bruce had to fight the urge to chuckle because the poor guy must have been exhausted to sleep through the bumping terrain that brought them back. He turned off the ignition and faced Tim once more.

“Tim?” He whispered, pushing back his own cowl. But the kid still didn’t stir. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to shake Tim awake, and he instead slid out of his own seat and glided over to the passenger side where he opened the door. He bent over and moved toward Tim, just about to slide an arm under his knees and the other behind his back when he quickly froze. What am I doing? His thoughts halted. This child already has a father, someone who specifically is not Bruce. He couldn’t overstep the barrier that sternly separated himself as a mentor from that of a parent, especially while Tim was positioned so that he had no say in the matter.

Sure, he had carried both Dick and Jason inside after they fell asleep either during patrol or the car ride after, but they were his children. Tim already knew Bruce adopted the two Robins that preceded him, but that knowledge itself wasn’t permission for Bruce to fill a similar position in his own life, no matter how much Bruce believed he needed and deserved it. Tim staying at Bruce’s manor several nights each week without so much as a phone call from his father was proof enough that Tim wasn’t receiving attention like one deserved.

But simply having an absent father was not an invite for Bruce to become his. Despite this, Bruce couldn’t leave him in the car to wake up cold and alone, and he definitely couldn’t wake up that face that relaxed so peacefully while dreaming. And so despite his screeching brain, he reached forward and snaked his arms under Tim, one under his knees and the other behind his back, and he lifted him up to rest against his chest. At the touch, Tim unconsciously moved closer, turning his head toward the warmth that held him, but he otherwise did not stir. This brought a smile to Bruce’s lips.

He carefully carried Tim toward the staircase leading up to the main house’s library, stopping only to flick the lights off. As he entered the manor, he was met with Alfred’s near-frown. It was an expression that meant he was awaiting an explanation for something that he already knew he would not agree with. Bruce shrugged carefully in response to the blatant disappointment at disobeying the one rule of 'no Batman and Robin in the main house.'

“He fell asleep in the car. I couldn’t leave him down there.”

“You could have woken him to change out of the suit first,” Alfred responded coolly, though Bruce noticed the man spoke in a hushed whisper to avoid senselessly waking Tim. Bruce gave him a pointed look and guided the man’s gaze down to the sleeping face below them, only chest-high to Bruce and with his cheeks puffed out with the exhales of the unconscious. Neither man could feign supporting the idea of purposefully waking Tim.

Bruce slipped past Alfred with a swear to clean himself up after he put Tim to bed, something that notably did not receive argument. He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Tim too much during the ascent. Despite the efforts, Tim’s eyes cracked open at the top of the stairs as Bruce carried him toward the bedroom door that Alfred and Bruce knew as Tim’s room. His expression flickered from confusion to realization and frustration all in the span of one second. Tim frowned up at Bruce, face so disgruntled that Bruce was forced to swallow a laugh as he met the fierce gaze.

“I can walk.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he stated with a hint of humor still present.

“Bruce, are you going to fire me?” Tim’s voice was firm, a question of business leaving no room for his personal feelings that could so easily be hurt right now.

Bruce didn’t feel the need to laugh anymore; the urge was replaced efficiently with an ache of stabbing guilt. “What?” He whispered. His feet stopped carrying the pair forward immediately, and he was frozen on the carpet.

“I promise I can do better. I am really sorry.” The plea was in stark contrast to the hardness of his previous tone. Now apprehension and begging pounded heavily from behind his words, born deep in his gut. It was obvious Tim didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he still hoped it would change Bruce’s mind. Tim looked down at the Robin suit he still wore and visibly relaxed a fraction, hoping that because Bruce hadn't already snatched it from him meant it wasn’t too late for Tim.

“Tim, what are you apologizing for?” Bruce asked, voice still hushed but presenting a hint of worry. He did not know what he had missed in the time between driving Tim home and now, standing on the second floor of the mansion and holding the child.

Tim’s eyes met Bruce's for a brief moment before falling and landing at his collar instead, while he threaded the corner of his own cape through shaking fingers. He stayed quiet for longer than Bruce was comfortable with, but the man waited in patient silence anyway while Tim wracked his brain for the thing he supposedly did wrong. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, but I promise I will be. I will try even harder.”

“Tim,” Bruce began again, eyebrows furrowing and tightening his grip on Tim protectively. You have nothing to apologize for. You are already trying so hard and it shows with your excellent work. You are good enough and you have been from the very beginning because you are strong and brilliant and loyal and-

“Please don’t fire me,” Tim whispered before Bruce could spit out any of the overwhelming thoughts that cluttered his worried mind.

“I am not firing you. What is this about?” He asked, instead.

“Patrol ended early tonight, and you didn’t trust me to grapple down from that building...” Tim rambled softly, picking at his fingernail with intense interest.

“I ended patrol and grappled down with you because you fell asleep-“

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Tim snapped gruffly and Bruce couldn’t help the challenge in his fast-lifting eyebrow. Tim appeared sheepish as his cheeks colored, and he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. I promise it will never happen again.”

“You aren’t in trouble for falling asleep, and you aren’t fired. You were tired so we came home a little early,” Bruce stated firmly.

“What?” Tim stiffened, suddenly feeling very small while still clutched firmly in Bruce’s strong arms, who stood like a rock as though Tim’s weight was not a hindrance. “I’m not in trouble?”

“Of course not, sweetheart.” And now it was Bruce’s turn to freeze. He couldn’t believe he allowed that word to slip from his lips while speaking to Tim Drake, the child technically in his care as Batman and Robin, but one that already had a father. Tim was not another orphan in need of love and attention, waiting for Bruce to take him into his home.

“Oh,” Tim whispered, staring with pupils blown and cheeks darkening further. And against all odds, Bruce felt Tim relax in his arms as he returned his head to the man’s chest. With a deep breath of relief, Bruce continued his trek. “But, I really can walk now. You didn’t have to carry me.”

“I’m expecting you to carry me up all of these stairs next time,” Bruce responded easily, earning a small giggle.

“Won’t Alfred be mad about us wearing all of this stuff up here?” Tim murmured, lightly kicking his boot-covered toes and holding a corner of his cape up as clear evidence of their misdemeanor.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I already told Alfred it was your fault.” Bruce tossed Tim onto the bed-Tim’s bed, as it was in Bruce’s and Alfred’s minds. Tim saw the room as the guest bedroom because he didn’t know it was only ever occupied by him. He remained seemingly oblivious to the fact that Alfred had purchased posters of Tim’s favorite movies for the walls and Bruce lined the bookshelves with comics, novels, and figurines all for him. Tim noticed the items, but he assumed they belonged to Dick.

Tim landed on the mattress with a surprised burst of air forced out in the shape of a laugh. Where Dick would complain dramatically while wearing a smirk and Jason would bite back with a playful eye roll, Tim just giggled at Bruce’s antics. Bruce thought they were all three so perfect.

“Do you need to call your father?” Bruce asked, trying to sound passive though watching carefully as Tim toed off his boots and unclipped his cape, tossing them both to the floor in a messy heap. He worked hard to hide the bitterness in his voice regarding Tim’s distant upbringing, but it shone violently when he spoke in private about the matter to Alfred.

“Nah, he’s probably asleep, and he won’t want me to bother him. I’ll text him tomorrow,” Tim’s voice didn’t waver because this negligence was considered normal based on years of experience. Bruce swallowed a frustrated growl that threatened to break through with force and fury, and he turned to the dresser.

“Want clean clothes? We put some of Dick’s old t-shirts and shorts in here for you.” Tim’s chest thumped sore hearing that. Being offered Bruce’s child’s clothing seemed very personal, very loving. But Tim reminded himself that he was not Bruce’s son, though he often wished to be. He wanted from Bruce what he didn’t get from his own father, the things he saw at those fancy parties from afar, painfully apparent with the hugs and forehead kisses. The taste of it he had when he woke up being carried to the guest bedroom instead of left in the dark cave downstairs. Tim longed for that. Bruce didn’t notice his dilemma, and he continued muttering instead, “Most of it is Superman-themed because he is a brat...”

“But you love him,” Tim stated aloud, catching Bruce by surprise. Bruce had noticed that this particular one had a tendency to do that. He surprised Bruce when he admitted he knew he was Batman. He surprised Bruce daily with his impressive detective skills. He surprised Bruce now. The man turned toward him with eyebrows high, but Tim ducked around his look as he hopped off the bed and approached the dresser. The words sounded like a spoken fact but felt almost like a question to Bruce, and so he answered it.

“I do love him.” He confirmed as he watched Tim shuffle through Dick’s clothes before settling on a Mario and Luigi t-shirt and a black pair of shorts.

“And you loved Jason,” another statement-question hybrid as he slipped into the attached bathroom, closing the door and peeling his suit from his body.

“I will always love Jason,” Bruce answered firmly through the door. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

He winced as he said it. Another slip that sounded a bit too parental. Though he couldn’t deny the tug at his chest when he heard the faucet turn on and the sound of bristles against teeth whispered underneath the door.

And of course Tim had a toothbrush in his bathroom at the manor.

“Because they are your sons.” Tim stepped out of the bathroom moments later and walked to the bed, crawling atop and sitting on the warm duvet. “Your mishpachah.”

Bruce slowly approached the bed, tilting his head and drawing his eyebrows with concern. “I love them because I love them. They are my mishpachah and the rest is an added privilege. Is something wrong?”

Tim grinned widely in response and shook his head. “‘Course not, Bruce.” But something was wrong and Tim wasn’t sure how to voice it. “I was just wondering is all.”

The gut feeling deep in Bruce's abdomen poked him and whispered, he’s lying. Bruce hummed in response and gave the kid a scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly. Tim just continued to wear a goofy grin, and Bruce reached out and dropped a hand softly to the top of his head. Tim giggled between his teeth and continued to watch Bruce with an interested look of his own.

“Tim,” Bruce spoke with a light voice, gentle and warm. “You know, you are also my mishpachah.” Tim’s eyes widened comically and his mouth clenched tightly closed. “Even though you don’t live here, you are my family.”

Tim bit at his lip, and he lowered his eyes for a moment. He thought of Dick’s clothes that he wore, his toothbrush drying in the bathroom, this bedroom that he always stayed in when he spent the night at Bruce’s. He thought of Bruce carrying him inside the mansion when he could have simply woken him up. Tim tends to sleep like the dead, or so his father told him, but if he were pulled out of the car by an arm, he would have eventually woken up. Finally, the corner of his mouth lifted in a shy smile, and he whispered, “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled with pride and continued, “You did an excellent job tonight, Timothy.”

“Timothy,” he parroted with a snicker. “So formal.” Bruce rolled his eyes and ruffled Tim’s hair with that hand that still rested on his head. He then stepped away from him while Tim slid under the covers and laid his head on the pillow. Gravity was already pulling his eyelids closed to sleep once more. “Thanks, Bruce. G’night.”

“Goodnight, Tim.” He had to stop himself from leaning in and pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. Because the kid already had a father, no matter how much Bruce wanted to fill that role. “Sleep well, ziskayt.”

Though truth be told, he already considered this child his own.

:) The rest can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt: Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately. There was something in the atmosphere, almost. It felt… lighter, maybe?

He didn’t like it.

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion. The tendency had saved his life multiple times. Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost. Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with. Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him. Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often. Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha. He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one. Skipped school and everything. The whole high school experience. Ha.

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.

He sighed, heavily. Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding). Stock up on supplies. Get ready to weather a storm. Literal or metaphorical.

But hiding out in the cave was so boring. There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah. Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah. Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts. It was pretty empty around here.

Just like Flynn’s heart.

Ha.

Yeah. That was a good one.

Eh. Life wasn’t so bad. He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time. Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof. Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity. And not having a concussion. Or losing any more teeth.

But, back to his original topic.

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe. Was it directly Flynn’s problem? No. The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.

Flynn recognized that. Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom. But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger. Who knew what could come out of a portal? At least according to the ghosts he talked to. Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.

This was going to suck so much.

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary. Which he had read. Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck. He could take one ghost. Three? Yeah. Not a chance.

Maybe they’d leave? They couldn’t know for sure he was here. With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again. He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either. No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait. They weren’t. Flynn would know. He’d made many unbelievable jokes. They’d never attracted anything but groans.

Ha.

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost. “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.

“We don’t have any choice about her, though. Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out. Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn. Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him. The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago. At least a decade.

But he did scream. Loudly. Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all. He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages. “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.” He examined his fingernails. “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate. Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.” He eyed the eyeballs.

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork. “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn. He adjusted his grip on his staff. “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face. “No. Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby. Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork. He raised an eyebrow. “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip. Hard. Okay. He wasn’t dreaming. And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway? Flynn was nothing. He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands. “Then let us away to the castle.”

Well. That was certainly a castle. Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house. Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.

Or even hole, when compared to all this. Dear god, this place was fancy.

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin. You are not underdressed.

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings. “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost. “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one. I will collect you for dinner in three hours. Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.

… There would be curtains, right? This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.

He opened the door.

Lots of curtains. Lovely.

No, really. It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains. He might be crying.

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft. He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy. Filthy. Covered in years’ worth of grime. He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath. He was craving a human-safe bath. With clean water and soap.

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Unrestrained luxury.

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter. The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.

There was a sink.

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water. Because he made it so, so dirty. He sank into the water, up to his chin.

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause. Because it was always a lost cause. Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available. He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one. Were there ghost dentists? There had to be ghost dentists. They had a lot of teeth. A lot of teeth. Sharp, scary, teeth.

Ugh. His baby cousin was a ghost. He’d probably have teeth like a shark. When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all. Because. Baby. Little, tiny, baby.

Who Flynn barely knew.

Why did he even want Flynn? Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?

Ghosts were weird. Anything could be possible.

He flopped face-first onto the bed. His bed? His temporary and maybe permanent bed. If he was allowed to stay here.

Oh, gosh. Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals. Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.

(Dad? Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed. But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now. He was living in the scariest place out of the world.

Ha.

Yeah.

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe. Oh, boy. Many clothes. He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store. Incredible.

They were so fancy, too. He didn’t know how to choose.

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed. Some of them looked cool. And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet. Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear. Wow. It had been a while.

Okay. The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice. Like, no nap nice.

He wanted to take a nap.

But no nap was occurring.

The bed was too soft. Ugh. This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.

He groaned. He hadn’t thought that was real. He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama. Or something.

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.

Maybe he could sleep here.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover. What cover? Oh. Bed. That was the bed. He was in the room. In the castle. The ghost king’s castle.

His baby cousin’s castle.

He was going to cry. This was so weird.

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand. Which. Might not have been the best of ideas. But, hey, he was dressed now.

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle. Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there. One of his eyebrows went up. “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down. Orange and green went fine together. What was he talking about?

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.

“Come, now. Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back. At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.

He decided not to do that. Running away wasn’t his style.

(Who was he kidding? That was definitely his style. He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing. Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Only the future.” He swung the large, gilded door open.

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates. There were a small group of children beyond it. One of them waved at him. Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #flynn walker #clockwork

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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

Text

Troublesome Baby

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Slight size kink, nipple play, overstimulation, hint of breeding, Akaashi wanting to make his baby know how pretty she is and how wrong people are about her.

↬ Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Pissing a delinquent is never a persons choice. And what pisses off Akaashi most was when people picked on you instead of him.

⇢ Day 2: Delinquent

A person's feelings can be confusing. One minute they're saying they like a good guy who knows how to keep track in time and hs his future planned out and the second they're liking someone whom their parent's had warned them about.

If you like someone who was always up to no good, are you a masochist? They would ask. Are you out of your mind? They would scold. Do you have any idea how this'll affect your life? They would judge.

You'd like to think otherwise of people who wore tattoos, have so many scars, are always picking fights or having that gangsta stance and aura. You prefer to see them as still a human being with a cold outer shell in order to protect themselves from the cruel world, shielding their gentleness deep within.

It was cliche; a bad person getting soft for one person. But that's how it is even in reality. Sometimes, we can only be vulnerable to the ones we trust the most. And the ones we trust the most are the loved ones.

And those who we love, never deserve how they spit at the world.

That's how Akaashi was with you.

Everyone was shock by the time the former first year had a drastic demeanor change. He was timid, reserved back at his first year in highschool. Polite, and what you'd expect to have an astounding school performance. Hey never would've thought that joining the volleyball club would change someone so idly.

They always thought they were a team filled with passionate players who loved to play fair, but it turns out they loved to get rough around games and outside matches.

Roughness was never Akaashi's agenda. But with a stoic facade and built, athletic feature, he fits in perfectly to look like someone you should stay away from. Still, he kept on being the reserved person he was by hiding his wounds underneath his uniform or volleyball jacket. He doesn't admit it outloud, but he was insecure about his beating wounds.

The times where he and the team would go on random beatings after losing a bet or if someone dares to mess with anyone close to them happened often. Now that word was spread that you, sweet little you, happened to be the pretty faced setters girlfriend is targeted by many disgusting comments.

No man would want to tolerate that or will tolerate their beloved pummeled onto the ground. From all the members of the team he was voted to be the most terrifying one, he doesn't stand down from a fight especially for his baby, he wouldn't stop until the person who made a worthless comment about you, the person who would make you look down at yourself, the person who would make you cry is at their mercy.

His delinquent phase soon carried on until he reached his 20s. Even though now he was an editor and his teammates had their own domestic lives and jobs ahead, they kept up with their ways to earn a bit of cash during the night. Minus Bokuto on some occasions due to his volleyball tournaments world wide, it was mostly just him and the former third years. Even the two females had managed to know their ways into the dangers in joining as long as it helped them raise the cash up a bit.

And that leads the scenario now, you cleaning up his wounds again at the peak of 1 am in the morning after a misunderstanding beat down the past hour. He came home more bruised and bloodied than before— that meant they were outnumbered. Usually, it's Bokuto who would bark at the people who would mess with them. He was known to be feared due to his popularity, but inside the group, it's really just Akaashi who was the monster amongst all of them when he was angry.

You didn't know how long you were going to tolerate this. Him always coming back to you with new scars drawing his skin and you patching him up. It was always like this since highschool, but as you grew, people get tougher, bolder. This was too much.

"Keiji, please stop doing this."

Dabbing the cotton on the alcohol a little and tapping his skin gently to avoid stinging him, you were sat on your study chair whilst he was sitting on your shared bed. You were already trying to hold in the dam from breaking as you had been cleaning all his wounds for the past minute, but as you do, they only seem to get bigger and painful for you to bear.

"I don't want you to keep getting hurt."

Finally putting ointments on his arm, he uses his free hand to cup the side of your face, and raises you too look into his eyes. Ones that weren't feral as they were a couple of hours ago.

"They were bad mouthing about you, I wasn't letting that slip."

"But it's fine! People bad mouth about me a lot even before.."

Inside it still stung. To be growing up mocked by society in any way they see flaw in you. You were always an insecure woman up until now, any little words from others can make you into a brawling mess. What more if some threatened you, you'd be a fleeting coward.

Akaashi knew that about you when you began dating. At first he didn't pay mind into it, but the more he got to know what a kind and loving person you were, he realized just how cruel people can be to those with soft hearts. He hated those to the bone, he would never tolerate that kind of person throwing a pile of crap to someone above them.

"I just don't want to keep thinking one day you won't be coming by the door because of this..I'd rather you just stop being like this after years than to get more bruises. I don't care about the money, Keiji, I earn a lot too."

Your trembling figure was obvious, he knew how emotional you get for whenever he gets reckless, and how you over think of the things the people he has placed back in their place said about you. He never liked the fact you tried to be strong for him so many times and not even reaching out for comfort from him.

"Baby."

He cooes softly, moving away the medical kit from your side and hoisting you up from your chair with ease, allowing you to straddle his lap. You were easy for him to carry considering the height difference, thus making him more protective of you seeing as you look like a small child in fear.

Protesting softly at him to put you down since he was just freshly fixed up, Akaashi let's your head fall on his naked shoulder blade with his hand behind your head, giving your hair a slow stroke down to your back.

That's where you started to cry on his skin.

"I don't care about the money that much, I just hate it when someone threatens or mocks you without even having to know you."

He hears you sniffle at his skin, your tears wetting a small patch on it along with your face. He hushes you for a second before patting your bum, indicating he wants to see your face. With head lowered, you pulled away from his shoulder, sniffling down the tears while roughly using your wrist to wipe your eyes.

He grabs one of your wrist as his soften eyes met your red ones. He lowers your hand down to your lap, with your other one following as he was the one to wipe your tears away.

"It hurts me to have them say such things and have you crying like this. You have no idea how far you are from what they say."

The both of you took a small pause, letting him squish your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing underneath your eyes as small, left over tears escaped. Your hands below pressing against his bandaged abdomen, wondering how much trouble he's gone through just for you with a new batch of tears ready to fall.

"You don't cause me trouble, baby. I did this because you didn't deserve it. It was my decision, not yours or anyones. You will never be the reason for my troubles."

He was an observant guy, any little sign of of your body he knows what's going on. He slides your hands up from his abdomen, to his chest and placing them on his shoulders for you to hold onto. Tilting his head a bit to get an angle of your view, he gives you an adoring smile at the sight of your lips slightly pouting out and your eyes wide and glossy.

"You look cute right now."

Blinking away the blurred vision, your heart thumps a little from the way he was looking at you and his small compliment. You loved it when he gave you a lot of assurance and reminders about yourself. Even in times where they seemed unnecessary.

His finger tracing your cheeks to your nose, tapping at the tip making you shut your eyes and crinkle a little. When he groaned at the shift of your hips now snugging against his growing bulge, he quickly places his hands on your hips to hold you in place.

Your eyes popped out, stammering apologies saying you didn't mean to do it on purpose while gripping his shoulders. You hear him sigh out, worried you might've hurt him but soon vanished when you felt his hands sliding down once again to your bum.

"Why don't I show you how pretty you really are?"

He moves from his position. By instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lays you down on bed and pushes himself up.

"W-wait, your wounds."

"I'm fine, baby, don't worry."

His hands found their way down to your pajama shorts and pulls them down with ease. He let's his shirt that you were wearing on as it only fueled his arousal at the sight of you looking smaller compared to him.

Thighs shaking and biting back a moan when his index finger slid down on your clothed slit, he repeats his actions upwards and downwards until you shortly got the middle part of your panties wet.

"Just enjoy and relax for me."

You clutched the pillow underneath your head when his finger started to press in your clothed slit, his warmth radiating strongly against your sensitive regions, it made you grind shyly on the finger teasingly trying to intrude your entrance.

He bites lip at the delicious sight and pulls his fingers away, spreading your legs apart so that he could settle himself on his stomach and his face near your lower lips. Sliding your panties down almost too quickly, he pushes your inner thighs to spread for him, giving him a better view of what his teasings done to your body and blowing cool air on your twitching hole, drooling with more arousal.

He hears a small whimper from you and looks up, you covering your mouth with the back of your hand, and your other fisting the sheets. Giving your inner thighs a kiss to calm you down, he winks at you before repeatinf his early ministrations on your now bare pussy.

"You're so easily aroused."

It came out like a breathy whisper from his lips as he watches his finger slide up and down. The thought of you tight and clenching to nothing makes him want to plunge in immediately.

He hums pleasingly at the sight and slowly inserts his index finger in. You moan out loudly in surprise, hiding your face to side and not wanting to look down thinking you might just cum from the sight. He began pulling his finger out and then pushing it back in, he wiggles a little inside of your hole loving how warm and wet it was, until he inserted a nother finger in to stretch you.

"Keiji!!"

He thrusts both fingers in with a decent pace, not wanting to go fast knowing how sensitive and easily you'll cum. His mouth was watering at the sight of his fingers being swallowed in your small pussy, and leans his face down with his other hand spreading your lips and giving it a small kiss that made your hips jolt up as he began to attack your clit.

"K-keiji! Too good!"

His free hand holds one of your thighs way to keep you spread amd at his mercy. The two fingers inside of you thrusting erratically when you tightened around them, now hearing the sloshing noises and his mouth sucking you to death.

He watches your head move from side to side and your chest heaving from his treatment. He can feel his own cock painfully erect inside his pants and moves bit, moaning against your clit at his boxers friction, and your hands finding their way to his hair and begging him not to stop.

"Keiji! Please, please, don't stop! Please, I'm close!"

His fingers beckoning inside of you knowing what he was now pressing at and flattens his tongue on your pussy before smirking up and saying,

"Go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

Hearing his voice was like a knock out for you as your hips arched up and the grip on his hair tightened. The pads of his fingers pressing and teasing your sweet spot until you were cumming hard for his mouth to take in.

He pumps a few more thrust until your orgasm faded. You whimpered from the additional thrust and grabbed his wrist to stop.

"Too much, Keiji.."

Hungry eyes raking your sweating body and wet folds, his pants getting unbearable at the moment and zips it down immediately along with his boxers, letting his cock free and breathes in the cool air as it hits his cock that made it twitch in need.

How much he wanted to keep eating you out despite being sensitive, but the need to be inside of you caves in as he hovers above your quivering body and attatching his lips with yours. He slips in his tongue to deepen the kiss, grinding his cock against your wet slit as you moaned inside his mouth from the much needed friction and something inside your needy cunt.

But Akaashi wanted to savor the moment, he knows you were a virgin. He's only fingered and eaten you out during the years of relationship. Even though the thought of having his cock a taste of your cunt drives him insane, he wanted to make sure every part of your body was touched, kissed and adored like he promised.

"Mmh!"

Fingers now tweaking your right nipples as your legs tried to close themselves from now having to be stimulated from your torso, to his hard cock still grinding tantalizing. But his body was in between them, and his mouth was practically eating your whines and mewls for him. Seeing how sensitive you were getting over the little touches he was giving made him moan against your lips. His hand moves to tweak your other untouched nipple and pulled a little, your back arching as he releases his mouth from yours letting you moan loud.

Your back still arched giving him a quick access to suck on your erected nipple, biting softly yet playfully in synch with his pinching on the other nub.

"KEIJI! HAH— PLEASE!"

Trying to move away from his mouth and fingers by pushing his head gently, he uses other hand to pin both of your smaller ones above your head and releases your nipple with a pop, shivering from the air.

He stops playing with the other one and moves there to suck on it. His finger moving to the soaked one and pulling it softly. You trashed on his hold as he continued to assault your breast. Not seeing the way his eyes are now getting half lidded at the sight of your teary ones from the amount of pleasure and the sound of your pleading singing in his ears.

"AH! Keiji!! Please— no more!"

But he knows how much you didn't want this to stop. If you really did want to stop, you would've used your safe word. But just smiles at you fondly, letting his finger move from breast to breast and pulling and pinching quickly.

"Mm, I just love," he pulls a little harder on your left nub, but not to painfully for you, "How your body reacts to me." you hear his chuckled laugh when he stops to massage your breast alternatively, leaving you whimpering from how skillful his hands were.

"You're getting cuter and prettier as time goes by."

Shamefully, your walls clenched from his words. He knows judging by how you bit your lip and shutting your eyes and grins at you. He knows how much you loved getting praised and told all the lewd things he wants to do to you.

"You'll be prettier with my cock stuffing inside you, won't you, baby?

Hands trying to pry his stronger ones away so that you can hold him, hide on his skin and let him ravage you. He does however, using both his hands, he separated your arms and pins them at the side of your head and proceeds to attack your neck.

"Baby."

He cooes at the side of your skin, cock now lubed from his pre cum and yours with the tip just poking on your lower lips impatiently.

"Please..inside, Keiji, please."

Yours legs widened themselves, preparing for what you've both been wanting that evening. He laces his hands on yours, the position you now had more vulnerable for him and he wanted nothing more than to take you and make you feel protected and pleased.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

Lips pressing on your forehead as you relaxed on the sweet sensation, but as seconds went by, your body tensed when he entered the head of his cock in, inching slowly his hard length.

Akaashi's hands gripped yours harder when he feels your cunt fluttering and hugging his member tighter than he expected. His breating becoming ragged so he started leaving trail marks of love bites on your neck to calm the both of you down from the foreign feeling.

Each mark he gave came with a soft praise, telling you how good you were doing taking his cock perfectly and how beautiful you were breathless underneath him. He told you, you were doing a good job holding in and with that you let out a shaky breath before telling him he can move.

Thrusting out slowly, letting your juice slide freely on his cock before thrusting back in with force, enough for you to choke a moan. His hips taking their pace into what he knows is bearable for a first timer like you, but the way he was clenching his jaw tight indicates how much he wants to have his way and fuck you like he was on a rut. You were so tight and small compared to his impressive length that it was getting painful for him to be in a vice like grip down there.

It was a struggle to take him, but at the back of your head as you feel his cock move in and out of you felt so right, you wondered if it could be more pleasurable as it is. His face was alarming to you so you rubbed your thumb on his hand letting him pause and exhale harshly. He didn't know he was holding back so much to the point he forgot how to breathe.

"Are you okay?"

He panted above you as you stared in daze and in euphoria from being stuffed. Trying to stay grounded, you attempted to grind your hips to rile him up, only for him to growl and thrust in, forcing your hips down with a squeal from your lips.

"Don't do that."

"But you're struggling."

He breathes through his nose, he hates to admit it but he had to hold himself together not to take you like a freak in bed. He reminds himself that tonight was about you and only you. How wrong the words were of the people he's beaten for you.

"It's fine, I don't want to hurt you."

Nuzzling his nose on your cheek, he hums happily on your skin when you press your cheek in reply. As your eyes stared at each other, you knew how gentle your Keiji was with you. You knew he would never hurt you even if he could. He wasn't going to.

"Please Keiji."

Moaning wantonly when your shifted your hips in a good angle for his cock to thrust on, you looked at him with pleading eyes and drooling mouth.

"Please go harder."

Groaning on your skin, he thrusts in suddenly, lettinf your back arch once more as he placed his chin on your chest and licks his lips in hunger.

"You asked for it, baby girl."

The thrusts he was making was now audible inside your room; his balls slapping below your bum, your cunts lewd juices being messed up on both your bodies and your moans slowly becoming screams.

"KEIJI!!"

His mouth found their way back on your nipple, biting roughly and licking away the pain followed by a good sucking. Hips never faltering or holding back anymore and engulfs your shaking body.

"Fuckers were so wrong about you, love. Look at you,"

Your mouth was drooling from the side, hair messed up in display on the pillow that made them look soft and angelic on you, eyes, your hands holding onto him tight with your body jiggling up everytime he thrusts in.

"You look absolutely ravaging."

He lets go of your other hand and places his on the back of your leg, hoisting it up and placing it on his shoulder, letting his cock piston deeper into you and making a mess out of you.

"I can't even move a lot from how small and tight your cunt is."

He laughs breathlessly as he aims to find your sweet spot again. You were trying to pull away from his hold but with your thigh up on his shoudler, you were stuck taking this all in like a good girl.

"I think I may be too lucky to have you in my life."

The tip of his cock was now kissing that spot that made you scream out in the blue, Akaashi cursed when your cunt clenched his raging member as he kept aiming at your precious spot.

"Fuck, do you like that, baby?"

"AHN— YES! PLEASE, PLEASE, I WANT TO CUM!"

Sobbing for the much needed orgasm, your body gives up and lets the male above you use it to please you both.

"Fuck, my hips can't stop."

He buries himself at the crook of your neck, moaning near your ear, edging you close to your release to the sound of him. He lets out small whimpers and groans, his cock twitching violently inside you with his thrusts losing their rhythm.

"Baby girl."

"KEIJI, SLOW DOWN! AHH— I'M GOING TO CUM!"

The heat in your stomach felt different from your previous orgasms. This felt hotter, tighter, and a whole lot messier. But Akaashi showed no mercy and carried on,

"Cum for me, baby."

The freed hand he had a minute ago now being a teasing bastard and rubbed your swollen clit. Pinching and rolling all four of his fingers on, making you scream and thrash. Panting with the thought of dying frkm the immense sex he was giving until the last line made you scream without a sound,

"I'm going to cum inside."

Your eyes rolled sinfully at the last line, your bodh ascending above not hearing Akaashi gasp from the way you came and groan as both his cock and abdomen get soaked from your cum and your stomach filled with his thick load and kept thrusting in a slower pace. Your cunt spasming on his member, milking him dry until you were taking all of his load in.

Exhausted, his body stills and lays a bit above you, not wanting to squish you with his member remaining inside you. Sniffles can be heard coming from you as you calmed down from your high, Akaashi stroking your hand that was still clamped on his and peppered you with small kisses and sweet confessions.

"You did so good."

"That's my baby."

"Always so beautiful even like this."

You other arm came and wrapped themselves on his neck, pulling close to you as you inhaled his masculine scent, anchoring you down back to earth before coming to realization on how damp your bottom was.

"I—"

"Squirted?"

Blushing, you buried your head on his neck followed by a laugh from your boyfriend, listening to you blabber multiple apologies.

"I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, I liked it," He captured your lips with kiss, kissing you lovingly and a little longer before pulling away only to give you small pecks repeatedly, "It was sexy."

"You sound so different when you use that word, Keiji.."

"But it's true."

He didn't bother pulling out after you pleaded him not to. Even if it was your first time, it was addicting to have something fill you up to the brim. It made you feel snug and full, and it felt right. Akaashi wasn't complaining on the cock warming, in fact he held you closer to his chest and twirled your hair nonetheless.

"You're really not what they describe you, love," he admires how the dim light from your room manages to create a good lighting that made your skin glow. The hairs that sticked to you forehead after the intimacy you both caught up made you look like a soft baby with eyes looking at him full of love,

"I can't even describe you anymore."

Your eyes trailed down to his wounded torso from his face. Even though he was tainted, Akaashi was sculptured beautifully like no other. But inside you prayed that he wouldn't go home another day with freshly opened wounds just to defend you as you traced your fingertips on each bruise and scar.

He spots on and grabs one of your hands and pulls it in for a kiss on the knuckles, "I promise, I won't make you worry anymore."

Smiling, you snuggled on his chest pleased and full of bliss, feeling his lips kissing the top of your head repeatedly and his arms hugging you closer to his body.

"Keiji?"

"Hm?"

Pressing your cheek on his chest, you looked up to him and asked, with a small tint of blush on your face in embarrassment, "Um..W-why did you you know...In me?"

For a second he blushes as well, but in the end he seemed to be smiling excitedly as you missed the way his eyes glanced somewhere down your stomach.

"So I can have another pretty baby to love."

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu fluff #akaashi keiji #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x you #akaashi scenarios #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu smut #akaashiweek2020 #haikyuu akaashi keiji #hq akaashi

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kikyan · 3 years ago

Text

Izaya Ending

His ending is here along with the smut! MDI after the cut! ALSO I RLLY HAD TO HAVE A FRIEND HELP ME WITH THE SMUT CUZ I WAS SO EMBARRASED TO WRITE IT ALL OMFG-

TW: Dub-con! Degration! Name calling! Oral Sex (both giving and receiving)! Collar! Choking! Vaginal Sex/Penetration! Think that’s it if not lmk!

ALSO I RLLY USED THE MOST WATTPAD BASIC ASS LANGUAGE FOR THIS SMUT THIS IS HOW YOU KNOW THIS SHIT WAS WRITTEN YEARS AGO

PART ONE

“Oh? It seems he even has the Dollars searching for you!”

“ Izaya, please I apologize for anything that I did that caused you to do this, but I need to get back to Shizuo!”

“ And do what? Apologize for my actions and say everything is fine? You truly are different than other humans (Y/N)! Besides, does Shizu-chan know?”

“ K-know what?”

“You can drop the act. I know who you are (Y/N) or should I sa-?!”

“ Izaya, I won’t ask you again. Please, I apologize for what I said or did but I must return to my fiance.”

“ I can’t do that (Y/N). You thought you had me fool, no you thought you had the whole world fooled, but unlike Shizu-chan, I know the real you. You are far too unique, too precious to be in the hands of that brute, that damned monster!”

“ IZAYAAAAAA! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND GIVE ME MY DAMN FIANCE!”

“ Speak of the Devil, he really did arrive, didn’t he? (Y/N) it’s better if you stay, wait no- I want you to see God punish his worthless creation, than have his Goddess forgive him and the cycle continues!”

Grabbing her arm, (Y/N) was dragged to the door where Shizuo lay in waiting/ Shizuo’s eyes lit up with hope as (Y/N) arrived, quickly scanning her to ensure that she was not harmed by Izaya.

“ This is low, even for you Izaya. What the hell do you want anyway?”

“ I want (Y/N) of course! How rude of you to keep her from society, from me! She is too perfect, in fact, she is perfection! I can’t stand you of all people, a damn monster near her!”

“ If I am a monster, what the hell does that make you?”

“ That hurt Shizu-chan, but I’m sure my goddess, (Y/N) would forgive you nonetheless!”

Grabbing a stop sign Shizuo prepared to swing at Izaya before seeing (Y/N) duck down.

‘This is too dangerous for (Y/N)! I have to lead him away. . .’

“ You see (Y/N)! This monster swung at you! I told you, he would only hurt you! Stay with me, my Goddess!”

Taking his knife out, he swung it at Shizuo cutting him horizontally across his chest. As Shizuo remained unfazed he swung the sign hitting Izaya as well sending him flying back inside the apartment complex. As Izaya got up and grabbed the knife and (Y/N), before placing the knife under (Y/N)’s throat causing her to panic slightly.

“ (Y/N)! Izaya you damned bastard! Let her go, that’s low. . .”

“ It’s fine! Besides, my Goddess is so forgiving, I'm sure she will let this slide! In fact, I feel as if instead of the way I initially thought, it was you Shizuo who used (Y/N)!”

Catching him off guard Shizuo looked down from (Y/N) with a hurtful expression as he pondered if he did truly use her as Izaya said.

“ Kid. . . ding. . .!”

With that Izaya took this time to spin (Y/N) from his hold and bolted to Shizuo, knife ready and a gun to end this beast’s life. As Shizuo looked up he failed to notice the blade approaching fast, approaching close to his eye until it did, leading to Izaya stabbing Shizuo in the eye causing him to crouch down in pain and hold his eye that was bleeding profusely. Izaya held the gun on his forehead before looking down with insanity filled eyes and a smile to top off the look.

“ Shizuo, let’s ask (Y/N) if she forgives you for using her?”

Turning to the side he was met with (Y/N) sobbing as she looked at him straight in the eyes before blurting out, “ Izaya, please! Leave Shizuo alone! He did nothing wrong! I’ll do whatever you want me to do just please leave him b-!?”

“ Oh but (Y/N), you already are. He did nothing wrong? That sounds like forgiveness! Now Shizuo, any last words?”

Turning slightly noticing he lost the battle and that Izaya won, he mumbled a small “ I love you (Y/N), forgive me” before having his life taken away as well as his fiance.

“ SHIZUO!”

(Y/N) ran to catch his body as she sobbed louder before clutching his arm, the one that held his engagement ring. Looking at his corpse (Y/N) continued saying “I FORGIVE YOU I’M SORRY PLEASE, PLEASE COME BACK!”

“ Heh. . . hehe, ha, haha, HAHAHAAHAHAHA! THIS IS SPLENDID! THIS IS GREAT! THAT DAMNED MONSTER IS GONE! MY GODDESS IS MINE AND MINE ONLY NOW! HEY (Y/N), YOU FORGIVE ME, RIGHT? I MEAN, ON THE BRIGHT SIDE NOW THERE ISN’T A SHIZUO TO EDGE ON, RIGHT?”

“ . . . I-I-I-I-I. . . I f-forgive y-you. . . I forgive you Izaya. . .”

“ SEE I KNEW IT! ISN’T MY GODDESS WONDERFUL? NO MATTER THE CRIME SHE WILL ALWAYS FORGIVE! OH (Y/N) YOU TRULY ARE SPECIAL AND ONE OF A KIND!”

Crouching down to hug (Y/N) from behind, Izaya smiled before speaking.

“ Indeed (Y/N), you truly are special! Who would have guessed in a million years that I would meet the one who changed me! The one who became my goddess, the one who made me see humanity in a new light!”

“ I-I-Izaya. . . why me. . .?

“ Why you ask? Simple, it’s because . . . yOu’Re My FaVoRiTe HuMaN~”

Standing on the rooftop Izaya was speaking with a female in pigtails as he began to tell her that she wasn’t really planning on killing herself and that she had one or two secrets that she didn’t tell anyone, so if her parents had one. . . what was the big deal?

“ All humans lie, hide things, no one really makes it through this life being completely honest. Everyone's the same, no exceptions! Well, that is what I thought until I met (Y/N) (l/n) but I’ll let her do the rest from here on out. What you choose to do is on you in the end so choose carefully~!”

Walking out to the edge with the girl (Y/N) looks and stares at the blood splatter as she turns to her and says, “ we humans will commit the worst of crimes, murder, robbery, rape, you name it. Though, the biggest crime any human can commit and go about not knowing is lying to yourself and making a mistake thinking it will solve the issue. Do not fear, I am not judging you I just want you to know, no matter what you choose to do tonight, I forgive you and I assure you, a second chance is waiting for you all! So please, on the bright side, you now know what is happening and now you know what you can do to change it!”

The girl began to sob as she clutched onto (Y/N) sobbing and pouring her heart out with her smiling as she looked at the girl. After some time she finally left and (Y/N) looked up to the moon before hearing Izaya speak once again before hugging her and smiling.

“ Who would have known, so tell me is this you speaking (Y/N)? Or is it Saika?”

“ You can rest assure it’s me Izaya, but please don’t mention Saika.”

“ I never imagined someone as happy and cheerful as you to wield Saika, more importantly, go through something as traumatic as you have. Oh well, that’s life I guess! I’ll be waiting by the door whenever you wish to leave my Goddess. . .”

“ Alright. . .”

As (Y/N) stared at the moon and then the red blood splatter she began to recall that memory, that small memory that started it all.

In a small room all alone lived a young girl in her ‘timeout punishment’ as they called it. It was actually isolation, for three days the young girl hasn’t eaten and was barely drinking enough water to stay alive, but who was she to complain? Looking out she saw several children walking around and playing and it began to sadden the young girl as she could not join them for a small game of tag. Her mother was most likely with some other man and so was her father. As they argued and took out their stress out on other people, such as their daughter (Y/N), they failed to realize the young girl apologize for everything.

Blood stained the nice mats and floors as two bodies lay on top of each other with wounds in their stomachs causing their entrails to leap out.

“ I’m sorry mother and father! I apologize, if I wasn’t so weak then this never would have happened. On the bright side, I have freedom now! I also heard that I can play with the neighborhood kids too! Ah, don’t look at me like that mom! I know that I caused you so much pain, but you did too! I know for a fact that I should have done so much more but it’s fine mother! Father was upset when I defied the orders but then again father always got mad! I ended up reading a book on how to make friends and it said that I should try to make them happy and if I make them sad to apologize! I love people mom and dad! I’m scared they won’t like me or worse hate me! Which is why I need to make them happy, which is why I need to be happy! I don’t know when they are sad so I will just apologize if I do something you would disapprove of mom, dad!”

Looking down from the moon (Y/N) smiled before turning to face Izaya and walking side by side. He too was hurt and didn’t know how else to cope so it was fine! Besides, you’ve made so many friends so any sacrifice that was paid was rightfully paid! After all, you were his goddess and he treated you like one! You’ve made so many friends so it’s been working right! Well whatever, just remember that (Y/N) is afraid of people hating her and never wanting her, so treat a friend right before you start to see not only you fall but they themselves.

“ What are you thinking about (Y/N)?”

“ Nothing much Izaya, c’mon let’s go home if that’s all. I still have dinner to make!”

“Indeed, so what are we making?”

“ well, what’s your favorite meal?”

“Well, what was Shizu-chan’s favorite meal?”

“ Well. . . if you want we can make that. . .”

“ Then it’s settled! Hey (Y/N). . . you don’t hold it against me for killing Shizu-chan do you?”

(Y/N) turned to look at Izaya who held the same crazed expression as he did when he pulled the trigger. Shaking her head (Y/N) looked up to smile at Izaya before mouthing, ‘I forgive you Iza-chan!”

Smiling at the nickname he approached the girl standing before him as he grabbed her by the waist before kissing her softly. Soon after the kiss turned heated as his tongue found its way next to the girls as their tongues entwined together. Feeling the need to breathe, they separated as their only connection was the string of saliva that hung from both of their lips.

" You are just so forgiving and unpredictable. . . It's exciting to see what our dear (Y/N)-chan will do when faced with a predicament but I think it's more exciting to see how much you of all people can hold on, can withstand before you break! Don't worry my Goddess, because you have me to help you!"

"Thank you Iza-chan! I appreciate that you will make me happy as much as I make you happy!"

Grabbing the (h/c) haired female, Izaya began to walk downstairs with his goddess in hand as his mind raced and began to wonder, how far would your relationship with Shizuo last, that is if he was still alive? Well, whatever the case was, Izaya wasn't going to lose to Shizuo so with a sadistic, yet smug grin, he turned to the female he held in his hand and said,

"(Y/N) - Chan. . . How does a baby sound to you?"

Pushing Y/N onto the bed, Izaya began to remove his jacket. Pressing kisses onto her neck, mumbling to himself about how this child would be absolutely perfect.

"I-Iza. . .?"

"Shh. . . (Y/N) - Chan~ don't worry~ The pain you will experience will only make you stronger, our baby will be the summit of all of humanity. Our child will be born to be the perfect mix of our best qualities.”

"Iza. . . I-I. . . If you want a baby then I'll give you one, I'll give birth to our baby. . ."

" Perfect~ Just to make sure that monster hasn't tainted you, he didn't touch you did he?"

"No. . . We decided to wait till marriage. . . But it's fine Iza! I mean the one I love is well. . . you isn't it?"

Not liking the response the young girl gave him Izaya smirked before turning to a straight face filled with anger and lust.

"That's perfect!~ That means I'll be your first right (Y/N)-chan?"

“O-Of course! You’ll be my very first Iza!”

"That's perfect! (Y/N), you should do more than love me, you should worship you me like your God, your savior, and your salvation. So until then, until I know I have your life, love, admiration, and belief, you are just a lowly human that doesn't deserve my attention."

"Iza! I'm sorry for what I said, but I hope you still know I love y-!?"

"Apologizing isn't enough (Y/N) - Chan!~ You need to show me you mean it! Show me your love, your faith, show me who you belong to, lowly human. . . "

" W-w-what should I do?"

"Well. . . That's up to you to decide! I'm sure Shizuo asked you to do something naughty before right~"

"W-w-well t-t-that's-!?"

" So you aren't denying it! Well, I guess I'll have you so the same but show more devotion to me! Show me your love!"

Understanding what he meant (Y/N) turned to the side before nodding and proceeded to get off the bed getting on the floor before nearing Izaya again.

Izaya began to smirk seeing how submissive (Y/N) was acting and decided to edge her on more.

"Let's make a bet (Y/N) chan~"

"A bet?"

(Y/N) tilted her head slightly adding to her "cute" factor causing Izaya to smirk seeing how he was about to taint his Goddess before that monster did.

"Yes! Let's see. . . Oh! I know! If you can show me your faith by simply being a little naughty then I'll reward you! If not, you'll get punished!"

"P-p-punished?!"

(Y/N) scared expression causing Izaya to harden upon her expression.

"After all, a lowly human like you has to be punished already for doubting in your God! Now (Y/N) - Chan, let's start!"

(Y/N) began to near Izaya's jeans and nervously began to unbuckle them before turning away with red dusting her facial features.

"Aww is a sinner embarrassed to face her punishment? Her God?"

Nodding slowly, (Y/N) began to turn around to face Izaya who was smirking as he saw the young girl timidly stare at his erect member.

(Y/N) began to fumble with his boxers as she blushed before thinking about the previous time she did something like this. It was late afternoon, Shizuo and (Y/N) had a mini drinking competition which lead to some intense moments. As soon as her mind came back to her she realized that Izaya's member was exposed and she was staring at it.

A small chuckle brought her out of her daze before she remembered that she needed to do this, to avoid punishment, she didn't mind doing what she was going to do, but if she didn't do well, she was going to be punished and she feared that a lot more.

(Y/N) began to near his member and placed a small kiss upon the tip causing Izaya to shift a little as he stared at the female below him as she nervously wrapped her lips about his member, begin to slowly suck on it.

Izaya tilted his head back as he tried to silence his moans. His Goddess was tempting him, in fact, he had to restrain himself from taking her then and there.

"A-a-ah. . . (Y/N)-c-chan. . . ~"

Letting small moans escape his mouth he looked down to see the young female, she was red from embarrassment and small tears slipping from her eyes as she continued to tease the young male.

As the female began to suck a little harder, Izaya bit his lip but it was futile as he huffed a little before letting out soft moans.

"(Y/N) - chan!~ I-I-I a-a-ahh~"

Letting his lust get the best of him he grabbed (Y/N)'s hair and pushed her mouth further in causing her to choke a little and to deep throat him. Getting used to his length was difficult for the young girl as she was trying to match the speed of his forcefulness and her own.

Izaya was shaking a little as he began to chuckle as he stared deep into the girl’s eyes before whispering and grunting a little in response.

"S-so (Y/N)-chan. . No more like a lowly human. . . Do you believe that was enough? Are you going to finish and follow through with your punishment?"

(Y/N) continued to suck on his member before hearing more smaller grunts indicating he was close and he was. Izaya was blushing as he continued biting his lip, although this degrading was a big turn on for him and hopefully his "lowly human" he couldn't conceal his excitement as he let one more moan out before releasing inside the girl’s mouth.

"Swallow."

(Y/N), already a step ahead, began to swallow the male’s cum making sure to get any leftovers around her mouth.

"Good job, but I still didn't feel your devotion, your faith in your actions. Nonetheless, I did feel pleasure, so I'll reward you my lowly human~"

Izaya began to reach for a collar of some sort before showing it off to (Y/N). As she soon understood the message she allowed him to place it on her, she made sure her hair wasn't a bother as she allowed Izaya to gently place it around her neck. Soon after it was placed Izaya noticed how the collar had a circular ring piece in the center and as he smirked he allowed his fingers to wrap around the ring before yanking it causing (Y/N) to jerk forward and meeting his hungry gaze.

"You were so good, but not good enough. . . Out of my utter kindness as your God. . . I'll pleasure you as well lowly human."

"I-Iza. . . I-I-I l-love y-yo-?!"

"THROUGH ACTION! NOT WORDS, ACTION!"

Izaya grabbed the collar and dragged you to the bed, not before turning and witnessing your red face, you were being slightly choked due to the tightness of the collar, small tears from the previous event and the biggest turn on, you were drooling a bit and it was so cute, like a little ahegao face.

" You look so fucking hot, are you tempting me? Do you wish to seduce me and make me forget your crimes? Well, that won't work human, but that doesn't mean I can't play with you~"

"I-Izaya w-what are you doin- a-a-ahh~"

Small moans escaped from the girl’s mouth as Izaya began to kiss her, his tongue entering her mouth and slowly melting together with hers causing ultimate bliss. Halfway during the kiss, Izaya's hands wandered downwards to the girl’s jeans before he unbuckled them and proceeded to pull them down causing the girl to gasp.

"Izaya! W-wait!?"

" I believe you mean God~"

(Y/N)'s jeans were removed as Izaya's fingers began to near her clothed womanhood. As he massaged your clit through your (f/c) underwear he smirked as he saw his goddess bright red and soft moans and mewling sounds as he made her feel pleasure. Soon after his fingers made it inside and he massaged her womanhood with much ease and it drove poor (Y/N) crazy.

"I-Izaya. . ."

" I think you mean God my lowly human!~"

"G-God. . . I-I f-feel strange. . ."

" Not yet! Don't tell me that's all! Well, I guess I better start!"

Izaya neared (Y/N) womanhood as his tongue went to meet her clit and massaged it ever so gently. Making sure she could experience everything he made sure to hold onto her thighs before sucking and nibbling lightly against the bundle of nerves. Causing her back to arch, (Y/N) moaned in pleasure before Izaya began to change not only where he was attacking but the speed. He slid his tongue up and down one last time before he used his tongue to plunge into (Y/N) womanhood. His tongue went in and out of you as you moaned loudly, it was driving you over the edge. Soon after he stopped before getting up and returning back to his position, straddling you but he replaced his tongue with his finger gaining more access. To start off "soft" he allowed two fingers to access the girl plunging them in and out at a small pace before adding another and going faster causing the girl to moan and turn to face her God.

" I-I-I f-feel f-funny. . ."

" It's only a matter of time, my dear human."

(Y/N) began to feel a knot in her abdomen, it was getting more intense and tight with each time his fingers went inside of her. As she was reaching the point of no return he began to speed up as (Y/N) let out one more moan before her body trembled as her eyes slightly rolled back as her juices sprayed everywhere especially on Izaya's fingers. Izaya smirked before seductively removing his finger from inside of (Y/N) and licked them before smiling softly. He leaned down to whisper,

"That was amazing! You taste so sweet I can't get enough of it!~ but. . . I think it's time we moved onto the main event don't you think, my lowly human, my little slut. . ."

It was only at this point that (Y/N) noticed the mirror facing the bed. It was a large, floor mirror that gave the observer a good view of the bed. It hadn’t been there before meaning one thing: Izaya had bought it just for this event.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed it, finally! The perfect instrument for this night of trial! It’s there to test you, you see. . .”

Izaya’s hands snaked around (Y/N) to the back of her shirt. From there, he pulled one of the straps holding her shirt up, letting the tie unravel.

“You didn’t really think that our fun, little night would end here, did you? I said we were gonna have a main event; an event with a special little treat for you, my lowly slut. Take it all off, we shouldn’t waste any time!”

(Y/N) sat up in shock. Izaya was being too candid, too forward. The darkness of the room led to Izaya’s face having dark shadows. The look made him too lustful and brought a familiar knot to (Y/N)’s abdomen.

Leaning in, Izaya whispered, “Hurry up.”

With shaking hands, (Y/N) brought her hands to her top and took it off in one swoop. The air suddenly surrounded her and she felt ever colder. The easy part was over, but now came the bra. She had been dying to take it off ever since they arrived home, but she couldn’t have expected that it would be in this situation.

She could feel her face flushing red as she undid the hooks behind her back. She couldn’t bear to face Izaya, but she could still feel his lustful gaze directed towards her. She could feel him surveying every part of her body in arousal.

When she finally slipped the garment off, her body may have been cold but she could still feel the heat pouring between her legs. The air enveloped her body and made her nipples harden up. They perked up even more when Izaya brought his face closer to her.

“No matter what, I want you to look at me. It’s the very least a whore like you can do during this. If you can prove yourself through this, then you’ll get through this next trial~”

Without breaking his gaze, Izaya began to descend upon her chest. Taking one bud into his mouth, he began to swirl his tongue around it. His other hand pinched the remaining nipple and worked together to create a rhythm. Popping it out of his mouth, he bit into the skin around (Y/N)’s chest before moving on to the opposite bud. The sensation made her mind cloud and her mouth threatened to let moans escape. Every part of her body was on fire.

“Mmm. . . Is this pleasurable for you? Are you enjoying it? Don’t forget, my little bitch, that you have to prove your love for me. How devoted are you really?”

“Izaya, I-”

“How many times do I have to say this, (Y/N), only through your actions. Hm. . . Maybe a little punishment will help set you straight?”

Izaya kneeled up from the bed, pulling (Y/N)’s collar with it. The collar constricted around her neck, bringing a wave of euphoria as she was choked for those few seconds as he filled the two of them, leading to Y/N being on top of Izaya.

“Don’t think this is how we end it. Just for now, you’re nothing more than a slave with a hole. If you ever want to be anything more, prove it.”

Staring at him for a few seconds, (Y/N) was in disbelief of what she was hearing. Did Izaya really believe that, that she was just a warm hole for him? And she already sucked him off, what more did she have to prove?”

“Well go on, prove your devotion to your god, to your complete master.”

(Y/N) knew what she had to do. Her whole body was shaking as she lifted herself on top of Izaya. She could feel her cunt getting wetter by the second, almost soaking Izaya’s midsection. She couldn’t believe that she was doing this with Izaya, much less how obedient she was. It was her first time, she should be hesitant! Maybe she had been secretly wanting this for so long?

Once she was in position, she began to lower herself onto Izaya’s member before being stopped by Izaya.

“Ah, ah, ah, did you think that this is your only punishment? No, no, no! Turn around, (Y/N), face the mirror. If you dare to look away for even a split second, your god will make sure you get disciplined.”

(Y/N) found it good to not upset Izaya. That would be an adventure for another time. Hesitantly, (Y/N) turned around to look at herself in the mirror. When she saw herself, she couldn’t believe the state of her appearance. (Y/N) looked like an arousing mess. Her hair was messy, but it looked artistic in a way. Her hairs were jumbled up and her lips were swollen. Her chest was flushed, riddled with hickeys and as hard as ever.

“Remember what I said~”

Filled with determination, (Y/N) rose onto her Izaya and steadied herself. She lowered herself onto Izaya’s member, sliding it in with ease. It hurt a lot at the start, but the pain went away and was quickly replaced with arousal. (Y/N) felt like a crab, looking at herself in the mirror. It was uncomfortable to watch, but she didn’t dare disobey Izaya.

She started moving up and down, watching as her breasts bounced along with her body. Izaya laid below her, helping her along by holding her waist. His fingers dug into her sides, making her squirm around. If only she could see him, what face would he be making?

The room was echoing the moans of both (Y/N) and Izaya. He stayed silent, except for his grunts and the occasional moan. That, along with the sight of such a lewd image right before her eyes, made the knot in her stomach grow and grow.

The wet claps grew within the room, along with Izaya’s heightened pace. Now, his nails dug into her sides but she didn’t dare comment on it. (Y/N) was too distracted by the intensity of her senses. Her hair started to stick onto her face and she found herself moving into Izaya’s thrusts. Her arms were burning from the position, she kept trying to adjust herself into a better position.

Izaya’s hands briefly left her waist to play with her breasts some more, before returning to add some much-needed support. The clapping now was wetter, almost sounding empty and echoey. (Y/N)’s abdomen could feel herself tightening around Izaya, but the position just wasn’t enough. Lifting herself up more, she raised her heels and put all her balance on the balls of her feet. The position was just enough and to add more friction, pounding Izaya in further.

She lowered her hand to play with her clit before her own hand was replaced by Izaya. He said nothing as he played with her folds, rubbing and tugging at it with ways that sent (Y/N) into a frenzy. Her legs twitched and shook, threatening to compromise her position.

Soon, the passion was more than (Y/N) could withstand. She came all over Izaya, feeling the liquid flow out of her. Her vision blurred and she could feel chills wash over her body. Between her legs, it felt as if everything was pulsating and her heart was ringing in her ears. Izaya followed shortly afterwards, removing himself from her insides and letting her fall onto her side.

His arm snaked around (Y/N) once more, pulling her closer.

“Guess what, my sweet (Y/N). You passed! You managed to catch my attention through that amazing performance! What do you think?”

(Y/N) had no thought within her mind. The pulsating still hadn’t gone away and the fluid between her legs still felt sticky. If there was one thing she knew, it was that this baby would certainly end up interesting.

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