#they just manipulate and lie to get a rise out of each other

[churmandurr]

The most toxic people you know are also the most powerful people you know....

Finished my 2nd play thru, finally did a full astarion romance. we went full durge EXCEPT for becoming bhaals chosen, ascended astarion... nastiest stinkiest worst dom sub leash out in public gross ass couple

[uyuforu]

Astrology Observations VI

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Boda Persona Chart Analysis I

જ⁀➴ Astrology Observation: Synastry & Composite with In-Laws pt.1

જ⁀➴ How to know when you will get married?

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❀˖° Having a 12H Sun in Solar Return Chart is not for the weak. Your life could "fall apart" during this time, you can have a spiritual awakening, a very hard time in fact. I also noticed it can also mean (doesn’t need to be that, it CAN mean) one of your loved one can pass away unfortunately. It happened to me and a lot of people who also had their sun in their 12h, but not all of them! Usually, you have a hard time in general. But you’ll be fine, it is meant to happen for a reason.

❀˖° Synastry aspects are good to look at but the houses where the aspects fall is very important!! Sun conjunct Moon will have a different meaning where it falls.

❀˖° 7H synastry can mean a wonderful connection and desires to marry. BUT! The 7H can also be the house of enemies, so not everyone’s sun falling in your 7H means you have a good connection with them! I found myself not enjoying most of the people who’s sun fell in my 7H…

❀˖° Underrated Houses in Synastry: 2H, 4H, 6H, 10H.

❀˖° When looking at your Solar Return Chart, check the Synastry it has with your Natal Chart. It will tell you where those placements are felt within you. For example, my SRC’s Sun is in 12H and fall in my 10H this year. I’m having a lot of mental breakdown when it comes to my career, and since it conjuncts a big stellium of mine in my Natal, I just feel like my whole world is falling apart 🥲

❀˖° Please remember: North Node PC will tell you about your Soul purpose WHILE your MC will tell you about your career that is best suit for you. Your NN will never tell you about your career!!

❀˖° Union in your SRC could be the person you will meet this year that will have the strongest influence for you this year.

❀˖° 10H will tell you where your FS was born... ☺️

❀˖° 4H Sun people love to stay at home! Even if they are on a date, they will try to continue the date at home, because this is where they feel the most comfortable.

❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury in a MC PC is a huge indicator of using communication daily to work, your tool n°1 is your voice!

❀˖° Aquarius Sun 4H are so private!! Aquarius usually are quite private people because they enjoy being mysterious and controlling what people think of them, they like that people don't understand them. But in 4H??? they will lie for the sake of their privacy.

❀˖° Opposite signs aren't that different in the end, they are very similar in fact. Capricorn & Cancer are both very family oriented for example. One is logical minded while the other is more feeling driven.

❀˖° Scorpio Rising have something so intense in their gaze, it's truly something you can't put words on. But once you see this gaze, you know.

❀˖° Chiron in 9H Synastry could be that you think you are too different because of the culture, the language, the beliefs, etc. BUT! If you are from the same place, it can just mean you don't understand each other, you are just basically too different.

❀˖° My step mother and I hated each other, and she had her Moon and Mercury in my 7H. Yep, she hated me. She was often insulting me or even trying to manipulate me with words.

❀˖° Saturn 7H Synastry can mean Saturn person feel like it will never work out between you two. But it could also mean they see you long term, depending of other placements.

❀˖° Sun in 5H Synastry usually means the person really enjoy your presence and think you are fun!

❀˖° Venus 6H Synastry means the Venus Person feels safe around you.

❀˖° You can tell by doing a Synastry with a Celebrity if you can hope to meet them one day. Usually Saturn in 9H or 1H is a sign you will never meet them. Of course, this is just an observation.

❀˖° I checked my Synastry with my first love, and it explained a lot. I have a stellium in his 7H, and of course, he was my first love.

❀˖° But I never expected to got his Venus in my 5H! I never knew if he had a crush on me too or if I was delusional lol.

❀˖° His Sun conjuncted my Neptune, he misunderstood me most of the time. He was seeing me in a way that was so untrue lol.

❀˖° He also had his Sun 1H, he was soooo popular among girls! Any girls from middle school had a huge crush on him at some point.

❀˖° He also had a stellium in my 4H and we were childhood friends.

❀˖° My sun conjuncted his Moon. Now, I had nothing against him, I thought he was funny. But he was indeed seeing me in a light that wasn't me.

❀˖° My Venus conjuncted his Vertex, I suddenly fell for him, and it must have been fated in a way?

❀˖° Though, his Mars fell in my 1H... man thought I was very good looking (he told lmao).

❀˖° Sagittarius Rising in Composite could indicate a mixed couple, but it can also mean you are so different no one expected you two to be together.

❀˖° Union 9H in Composite could mean you met in a foreign country, but also in school!

❀˖° Sun in 11H Composite means you are friends originally. Or just friends lol.

❀˖° Ceres 7H Composite could mean you care a lot about each other.

❀˖° Venus in 7H or conjuncting DSC Composite means one of you or both of you desire to marry each other.

❀˖° Pluto 12H to me is not that good usually. Anytime I saw this placement in Composite, the couple or the people never stayed together. It always ends. There can be exceptions of course.

❀˖° Saturn 5H in a romantic Composite means you will most likely never date, there could be obstacles in this union.

❀˖° Mercury conjunct Saturn Composite means misunderstandings and miscommunication.

❀˖° The year I had this first love, I had a 5H stellium in my SRC, and this stellium fell in my Natal 9H! It was indeed a school love lol.

❀˖° I also had Venus conjunct Vertex, it was my first time falling for anyone.

❀˖° The year I told him my feeling and got rejected I had Venus conjunct Mercury in 12H!

❀˖° Juno 12H in SRC could mean you have a secret crush!

❀˖° Sun conjunct Juno Solar Return Synastry is a big indicator of having a crush on the Sun person.

❀˖° Juno/ Mars/ Neptune in 1H Synastry Solar Return is an indicators of finding 1H person veryyyy attractive, it can be love at first sight, but it is def a crush!

❀˖° Transits Moon conjunct your Natal Mars will make your emotions boil lol. You could complain a lot or have a lot of negative emotions such as anger, jealousy, etc.

❀˖° Union asteroid conjunct Part of Fortune Synastry is a sign you were meant to meet in order to bless each other. It's a lucky meeting. It is very good and shows that you will do well in each other's life.

❀˖° My FS is a Pisces Venus 4H and he is the softest!! Just very cute and very soft person... I love him very much lol.

❀˖° He also has Neptune 3H, he tends to lie to protect himself (Sun 4H makes this effect too), but he is also a very good poet writer. He wrote me poems before and I believe he would do well for poetry writing in general.

❀˖° Pluto 1H could be a sign you will experience a drastic change in your appearance some day. If Jupiter is also there, it could indicate a big and major glow up.

❀˖° Juno 12H could mean your FS is a soul connection, someone who could be spiritual and awaken. If it is very close to the Rising, or conjunct 1H, OR in 1H, it could mean you'll probably have love at first sight for them.

❀˖° Chiron Virgo/ 6H/ Capricorn/ 10H could indicate a burn out at some point in your life.

❀˖° North Node conjunct Pluto could mean your purpose in your life will transform you deeply, mostly if it is in the 1H. You will live a drastic change in your life.

❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury 1H in Solar Return Chart means you could think a lot about you this year, and think about your choices, and how it will play out for you. You will do more "selfish" choices because you want to make the best for you.

❀˖° Do I love stalking people I love or do I just have some heavy Scorpio/ 8H placements?

❀˖° Yeah indeed, Scorpio love stalking, but Gemini love that too!

❀˖° I have Gemini Moon 8H... u get it? lol

❀˖° It is a known thing, but in SRC, 4H's ruler in 9H means moving abroad! Another indication could be a stellium in 9H. But the stellium could also mean coming back to school, so it depends.

❀˖° SRC 4H Ruler in 12H could mean the same thing. It could simply be moving out.

❀˖° Speaking of the 12H in SRC, Pluto & Venus there could be end of a relationship BUT it could also be a spiritual love and you will learn lessons because of it.

❀˖° SRC 7H ruler in 1H could mean being in a relationships and it being part of who you are this year. Or you could appear as very romantic, very loyal too. Could also attract more contracts.

❀˖° Mars 7H in SRC could be an indicator you have a fight with the one you love, more if Venus squares/ quincunx/ opposite it. If you are single, it could show also more motivation towards long term connections.

❀˖° SRC 5H ruler being in the 7H could mean being in a long term relationship but also finding the one you want to marry.

❀˖° Once again, SRC Juno conjunct Chiron could mean you will suffer in love but it is indeed for healing.

Thank you for reading!

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[grims-sunshine]

hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲

Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!

I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3

🤍 Feel Better 🤍

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe

"I care about you."

It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.

You're pretty sure it's still true.

You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.

He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.

When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.

You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.

But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.

You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.

In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.

Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.

You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.

You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.

Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.

Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.

It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.

And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.

Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.

You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.

He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.

You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.

To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.

"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.

"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.

You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.

"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.

"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."

He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.

You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.

"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.

Damn it. He noticed.

"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Oh hells no.

"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"

By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.

"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."

Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."

He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."

This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.

You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.

You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."

Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."

Title inspired by this

[cum-a-calla]

you ever buy weed from a hot, deranged, psychopathic cult leader? no? well, sugar, do ya want to?

under the cut: Kappa/“reader”. coercion/dubcon/noncon. drugs. drugged fuck. knifeplay and blood kink. religious/cultlike ideologies. possessive Kappa. a general air of manipulation and abuse. wet, absolutely unhinged, hard fucking.

“Well, well - what brings you here?”

Kappa hangs in the doorway, resting his head on the frame as he peeks out from behind the door. He’s in the same thing he wore the last time you saw him, some flowy, open-necked bohemian top, so threadbare and worn that there are patches you can see through. He smiles his lopsided little smile and opens the door further, eyes dark and bloodshot. Trying to guess what Kappa might be fucked up on at this very moment is just as fruitless as buying a lottery ticket - the chance of getting it right is comically low.

“I need to… you know, pick up. And my usual guy is out of town, so… I know sometimes you have stuff,” she says, glancing around as if they aren’t on his wide, dusty property. Somewhere off in the yard, one of his strange friends plays fetch with a very filthy, very enthusiastic dog, tongue lolling from its grinning muzzle as it chases a frisbee and proceeds to shake it from side to side.

“Gunna have to be more specific than that, my dear. Kappa has it all.”

God, right - she’d forgotten about the third-person bullshit. She smiles flatly at him and mimes smoking a bowl, to which he laughs a little and moves to the side.

“Well, who doesn’t have that, right? Nature’s medicine. Come on in, don’t wanna let all the cool air out.”

She follows him into the dim, ramshackle home. Random furniture and cluttered countertops, sinks full of dishes with a couple flies buzzing lazily around them, hoping for lunch. The house is dark; most of the light comes in through the crooked slats of the blinds, drawn shut but damaged enough that the sunlight filters through in blazing shafts, illuminating all the dust in the air. Two woman doze off on each other, half naked and intertwined on the couch. One opens her eyes, takes in their guest, and allows them to flutter back shut in her lack of any real interest.

“This is Theta, Sigma… I think you remember them? We’ve met a few times. Girls, why don’t you go lie in the back room so that my… new friend, here… can have a seat.”

Theta and Sigma stir, but mumble and whine about Kappa’s request. He raises his eyebrows and purses his lips for a moment, hands on his hips.

“… are you going to make Kappa ask again?”

He looks like a parent preparing to lay down a punishment. His voice is even and low, something about its quality shifting the air in the room. Their eyes pop open and it’s like neither of them had been sleeping at all. Alert and obedient, they rise up while holding each others’ hands and scurry past him, squeaking apologies. Kappa watches until they’re out of sight, the sound of a door shutting breaking him of his sternness. He smiles again and everything feels even more disturbing, somehow. The switch. He holds a hand out to her and takes it gingerly into his own. He brushes his lips against her knuckles in a chaste kiss, watching her with his deep-set eyes.

“Sorry about that. They got a little fucked up and forgot their manners, it seems.”

“It’s… fine, it’s fine. No big deal.”

“Go on. Sit with me.”

Lowering to the couch feels like a death sentence in some unexplainable way. It’s not unlike any other experience buying weed from the various small-time dealers in the area - dirty house, wasted buddies sleeping off a hangover, weird dudes that just want to have a chat while they sell their goods. Despite this, there’s a vibe here she can’t place. Something that makes the tiny hairs on her arms stand up, something off. She’s already anxious to leave, watching Kappa lift the top to the coffee table to reveal a hidden compartment inside. It reminds her of a much nicer version her grandparents have. She guesses confidently that their isn’t stuffed with different sized bags of weed and little jars full of dried mushrooms, of various pressed pills and powders.

Beside these goodies is a handgun and a hunting knife.

“So - what will do ya? A dub, a quarter? An ounce? We’ve got some serious couch-lock shit all the way from the U-Dub, uh… we’ve got a great Californian purp. Sort of a mid strain from Maine; yeah, real gentle stuff, in case you have a hard time handling yourself.” He smiles and leans back, reaching an arm behind her shoulders as he settles in. He offers her a little wink. “I’ll take care’a ya.”

“I mean… I’m don’t need a ton, it’s just for me. Maybe the Cali stuff, just, like… an eighth is fine.”

“You wanna try before you buy?”

Textbook pickup manners dictate the sharing of the weed, so share she does. His ensuing grin shows his teeth, eagerly packing a scratched-up metal pipe with a frosty, dark bowl. He’s not kidding about quality; his home may not be kept neat, but she has zero doubts about his ability to afford the property. He must make bank. She wonders idly about his roommates and friends as she allows him to push the pipe to her lips, lighting the bowl for her. A true gentleman.

“They say weed’s a doorway; that may be true, but not in the way I see it. Smoking weed didn’t lead me to, say, coke - I tried coke before ever smoking, actually. Smoking, and surrendering to something that’s been around as long as man has walked the earth, I mean… it’s meant for us to consume. You know?”

She nods as he takes his pause, hitting the pipe himself until his chest is puffed out and he’s snorting back the urge to cough.

“Yeah, man. I agree.” Placid, easy. “Weed’s rad.”

Kappa exhales through his nostrils, thick streams of it curling to frame his face, tendrils of it sneaking from between his lips as he smiles in agreement.

“It is rad,” he amends with amusement.

It’s hard to look away from his mouth. His mannerisms and friends are off-putting, and she hasn’t made any significant effort to be around any of them in any given social situation outside of attending the same parties, once or twice on this very property. A polite greeting, a loose comment here or there. All of this to say that she had never noticed just how shapely his lips are, how the way he smirks ignites a curious little spark in her guts.

“You want more?”

“Yes,” she says quickly, and she has no choice but to suffer that knowing smirk as he once again lights her up. It’s already taking effect and doing its intended job - she feels that she could relax back into the couch and let Kappa gaze at her for longer than she’d ever wanted him to, suddenly open to this experience. His hair hangs around his face, tangled and wild and wavy. His knuckles are chapped, fingers slim as they bring the little pipe back to his own lips. He is unblinking as he watches her over the flame, over the burning little leaves.

“You seem a little more relaxed. Seemed a little off just a few minutes ago. Nerves? Are you… you wouldn’t be scared of your buddy Kappa, would you, sweetheart?”

“Not scared,” she says carefully. She shifts a little in her seat and bites the inside of her cheek. “How would you know what I’m like, anyway?”

“Human interaction is a wonderful, complex thing. The energy we give off, the smells, the sounds, the animal magnetism. Animals - that is to say, living, natural beings, blood in veins and flesh on our bones - they can sense these things naturally. I’m very intuitive. Very sensitive. It’s my gift. It’s why I feel so strongly about experiencing new things, about… sometimes teaching other people the beauty of life, of living, of taking back what’s ours. Owning what’s ours.”

“You’re losing me, Kappa,” she teases. “I might need to smoke a little more before I’m on your level.”

“You understand my basic point. I know you’re a smart girl. Open-hearted. You know, you’d really get along with us - Sigma, Theta, Epsilon. That’s who you saw outside, with the pup - Epsilon.”

“What’s with the names?”

“Mmm.” He takes another hit and finally gives her a reprieve from his intensive gaze, eyes practically burning through her flesh. Deep-set eyes. Bedroom eyes. Smoke streaming from his lungs, he nods at himself. “Well. There’s a power in identity. I, as a living being, have the inherent right to choose my path. I give and take and protect the sanctity of natural life and the furthering of that natural life. Part of my process is choosing my own name. I was given my birth-name, and eventually took a new name for myself. Nature is fickle, breakable. Give. Take. Like life. Life is given, life is taken.”

“Getting pretty deep in here.”

“That’s my pleasure as well as my duty as a man,” he muses, licking his lips. “Getting really deep. Planting seeds.”

The urge to scoff, to laugh and look away, to haul her way into a distraction, another conversation, something, knocks her on her proverbial ass. It’s all she can do to pretend she isn’t turning red. It would be easy to blame the heat, to blame the smoke… but he’d see right through that. For all of Kappa’s philosophical ranting, he’s right about his perception of others. She can feel him reading her, studying her like she’s a specimen in some laboratory.

He follows her movement as she ducks her head down, leaning forward to force her eye contact. His lips purse a little and he licks them again, his fingers crawling over her thigh to squeeze. Again, the urge to brush or even slap his hand away is at the forefront, but she doesn’t. She sheepishly meets his eye, ashamed of her own discomfort, her own utter excitement.

“Darlin’ - there is nothing wrong or immoral about these… urges, our collective responsibility as a species. Animals are meant to breed. It’s all in the blood. We’re not - we’re not machines, we’re not meant to be cold, lifeless. Purposeless. The whole fucking thing - the entire idea of these replicants, of playing God and mocking mother nature, it’s… it’s disgusting. But this - us? This is the most natural thing there is.”

In his impassioned speech, Kappa leans closer and closer, hand creeping higher on her thigh. The graceful, long line of his nose is so close she could lick the tip of it. He tilts his head and only then does he break eye contact, watching her lips. His eyes flicker between them and her eyes, pupils wide. It’s hypnotizing, the low purr of his voice floating over the warm afternoon air to caress her ears.

“Kappa…” she can barely breathe. “I - I should… this is -”

“Hey.” Kappa is murmuring, voice soft, but the underlying authority shuts her up. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches with dread as he casually takes the hunting knife into his hand. “Listen, sugar. You have a choice to make. In a second, I could get Epsilon in here and he would be more than happy to hold you down while I show you the meaning of life firsthand. I can make it very, very unforgettable for you… and you have to choose whether that’s gunna be a good thing or a bad thing. If I have to interrupt Epsilon’s time with this task, I’m afraid that’s going to make everyone upset, and that would be very bad for you. Are you hearing me, sweetheart?”

“Yes…yeah, I hear you.”

“What I really think is that you’re tethered by the morals of society. You’re stuck in a prison of the mind, you’ve been poisoned. ‘Sex is evil, trust in technology, evolve, evolve, evolve’. There’s nothing wrong with the way things have been for thousands upon thousands of years; villages of people looking out for each other and keeping the natural balance and order. It’s up to us to restore that order.”

He slowly moves in, attention flickering between her lips and her eyes. Her heart beats so hard she can feel each thump in her ears, in the tip of her nose… between her thighs. It throbs secret and hot there, his hand inching closer by the second. He’s captivating - batshit crazy, but charming in a strange way that keeps her rooted to the spot despite the alarm going off in her brain. She should leave. She should just back away and get to the door - her car’s right outside.

… but she doesn’t. She drinks in his mean little self-satisfied smirk just before he kisses her. His lips are surprisingly soft, his kiss gentle and slow. It almost makes her forget about the knife in his hand. He snakes his hand around the back of her neck and holds her firmly there, knotting those slim fingers into her hair. It hurts as he curls them into a fist. He swallows the surprised little whimper she makes, moaning in return as he becomes more aggressive, her lip between his teeth.

“Now - I’m not in the business of indecency with non-human entities. I’m sure you’re a natural being, but… my convictions are strong, and I need to be a hundred percent sure. Okay?”

��Wait, Kappa… wait. What do you mean?”

“Gotta make sure you’re not one of them. I need you to be real good for me and take off your pants.”

Kappa runs the tip of his knife lightly up her thigh, tickling her with it. He traces it up the seam, breath picking up the closer he gets to her cunt. His lips are plush, kiss-bruised and parted as he stares down at the knife. His excitement permeates everything around them, the air thick with it, his eyes wide and bright and his chest practically heaving. She should have run. She should have run before he had his hand in her hair, a knife tracing her inner thighs. He looks absolutely hungry. He looks up from under those lashes and searches her expression, taking in every detail as though memorizing her terror, tattooing it permanently into his mind for later use.

“I don’t wanna hurt you more than I already have to. And I can’t have you running,” he murmurs. His voice so low, wavering a little as adrenaline rushes through his veins. They cord his forearms, his strong hands. She can see his rapid butterfly pulse in his throat. “Make this easy on yourself, darlin’. Faster you listen, the faster I can make you feel good.”

He uncurls his fingers, allowing her space to do as he asks. Still he hovers, knife ever present and threatening. His eyes are manic, sliding over each new inch of exposed flesh as she unbuttons and pushes her pants, her panties down her hips, off her legs in a few clumsy kicks. With the knife, he motions at her shirt - up, up.

“Kappa…”

“I could do it for you, if you like. But what I’m not gunna do is ask twice… this is your last warning.”

In contrast to his soft, smooth voice is the undercurrent of malice. Self-assured. Not a hint of doubt in his mind, focused on his intentions and making zero room for failure or disobedience. There’s a sense of authority, of somebody well accustomed to being followed without question. He reaches into the table to fish a small glass vial out, flicking the cork loose with his thumb before he sprinkles a generous line on the dull edge of his knife. He snorts it off and gasps a little, shaking his head, wiping the white off his nostril. He hums with pleasure and does another, much smaller line, before offering her one of her own.

“I’ve never done anything like that,” she says quietly.

“I look forward to the pleasure of opening you up to all kinds of new things.”

He nods encouragingly, as if to say, bottoms up. Like feeding a child medicine, like convincing somebody to drink poison. She pleads with him for a moment with her eyes and he pets her thigh, squeezes softly. He sets his jaw and waits, unwavering. She does as asked - what choice does she have with a knife in her face? - and snorts the baby line, wincing at the way it burns fire up into her sinuses. She paws at her nose like an animal, rubbing it, wiping it to relieve the discomfort.

“It fucking burns, fuck.”

“Yeah, that will happen. You get used to it with time. Now - come on, let’s… get this…”

Trailing off, he guides her to straighten up so he can peel the shirt off her body. Defeated, she raises her arms and allows him to pull it over her head, immediately crossing them over her body once liberated of her top. He clucks his tongue and pries her arms open, taking all of her in. Every curve, every dimple, every freckle, every detail. He wastes no time in pulling her bra off the same way, and her face burns with shame as she squeezes her eyes shut.

He angles her chin with his fingers, cooing down at her to look at him, open her eyes. She does as requested and he smiles tenderly down at her.

“I promise this will only hurt a little bit. But I have to do it. It’s my will and duty to do it,” he says, and there’s a feeling in the back of her mind that he’s convincing the both of them. The thing she can’t deny about his manic, lidded eyes, the way his mouth is set in a triumphant smirk, is that it’s utterly intoxicating. He’s beautiful in some strange way. The tension in the air is thick and palpable. Suffocating.

He turns his attentions to her thighs and draws in a shaky little breath. Without ceremony, without warning or preparation, he turns the knife and draws it efficiently in a line on her inner thigh. Blood beads up almost immediately and the skin splits open as though blooming, a red, dripping little mouth. The pain is immediate and she cries out, afraid to move but unable to recoil from it. He holds her thigh down, making a sound that could have been him clearing his throat or a grunt of pleasure.

“Oh, there you are. There you are. Natural as ever.” His voice goes low, hoarse, and he presses the heel of his palm against his hardening cock. “A real woman, flesh and blood and sinew. A real woman for a real man.”

He does it again, draws the knife in a quick, shallow slash, and then again, again. Most of them aren’t as deep as the first - most of them don’t yawn open and reveal the layer of flesh underneath, but they all run blood down her inner thighs, soaking dark little spots into the cushion of his old couch. He pants until he’s practically hyperventilating, and brings the blade up to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he savors licking it clean, moaning, pulling at his shirt until he tosses the weapon back into the table’s compartment and yanks it off. The body underneath is long, milky pale.

“The taste of you - I need more of you.” He hooks his hands underneath her knees and yanks, pulling her down and spreading her legs open. He kisses her abused inner thighs, ignoring her fingers tugging into his hair as she pleads softly for him to stop, to be gentle. He runs his tongue over them, pushes inside of the deepest wound just a little, just enough for her to grit her teeth against a scream, to trap it back in her throat. “That’s it. There’s a good girl. You let Kappa take care of you, let me show you - fuck, I want all of you. Every single bit, mine.”

His flushed face is smeared with red, lips wet with it as he licks them. Her blood is on his teeth as he grins, wolfish, kissing up and up and up until he presses a soft kiss against the lips of her cunt. He drags his tongue between them, slow. Calculated.

“Kappa.”

“Tell me how much you want it. Tell me you want me to taste your blood, your cum. Tell me you’ll give me everything.”

He goes back to work, awaiting her response with all the patience of somebody used to a little insolence. It takes time to break a new one in, right? And she’s so very shiny and new, a challenge. A territory to conquer and claim, all this soft, generous flesh, all this clean mind to furrow into and spread like a disease.

“I… I want… you, I want you.”

Kappa moans and the vibrations against her send her into a new realm of pleasure. Something rhythmic, quick, powerful - whatever he gave her is slowly worming its way into her bloodstream, into her brain, making everything soft and hard all at once. Electric. Vibrant. Time both stops and speeds by, sweat beading at her hairline as she writhes under his mouth, under the sensation of his fingernails catching into a fresh wound. It all boils down to some horrible base sensation. All of it has her grimacing in pleasure - there are a hundred reasons she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this, the bright red alarms in her body screaming for her to GET UP, LEAVE, RUN, STOP, STOP, ESCAPE ESCAPEESCAPEESCAPE—

And she lay anyway, the circle of her overstimulated thoughts coming back again to Kappa’s mouth, his tongue and lips and fingers and teeth, his body the color of moonlight even though she knows the sun is blazing hot and sticky outside. Girls trapped in a room. Her trapped on the couch. Kappa trained expertly on her clit, lapping, moaning, drooling. Something about all this must make sense, it all comes together, somehow - but exactly how eludes her. She’ll remember later, maybe. She’s responsible, dependable. Smart. Maybe this is why Kappa likes her so much. Maybe he has something to share, maybe what he’s saying makes a little sense. Maybe. Maybe, maybe. The only truth is the way he eats her alive, the way he clings to her thighs and moans into her cunt like he can’t live without tasting her another second.

“Kappa,” she gasps. “I’m gunna cum.”

Kappa lifts his face and wipes this chin on the back of his hand, pupils eating into the ocean of his bright irises. It’s like a perfect eclipse. There’s something there, something in the meaning of it all; she feels on the cusp on something important, life-changing. Kappa stares so deeply into her that she can feel him reaching down into her heart, into her fucking guts, into the core of her. Squeezing. Knowing. Exploring. Everything is heightened, everything feels like some kind of milestone; how could she have missed any of this before? How did she never notice the way his hair falls into his eyes? How did she miss the exact curve of his cupid’s bow, of the way his throat curves into the cradle of his collarbones?

“I know,” he says softly. He breaks his gaze to pull his trousers down - they’re so thin, the material. He unties the front and pulls them down his slim hips, cock bouncing out, and she has to hold her breath. He’s thicker than expected. He gives her a knowing look, again, constantly - he seems to pick up so much. Doesn’t he? Is this - is this her own mind? How did she not see how he sparkled before, how smooth his skin is? How good he feels even breathing against her?

What did he make her take? And how can she feel so much, and can she feel more, can she do this more often?

Kappa smiles, and it’s so kind. He strokes her cheek with his thumb like he hasn’t drugged her, cut her open, forced her into her current position. He smiles like he’s proud, like he’s glowing and the only thing in the world, and he is. He is the only thing in the world. She marvels up at him and waits for him to speak. He must be accustomed to this. He takes his cock into his own hand and strokes lazily, rubbing himself against her, up, down.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers. He lines himself up to plunge into her, and she can’t help but match his breath - panting, desperate. Sweating. He licks whatever tears remain on her face - she’d forgotten they were there. Tears, sweat, blood, cum - what’s the difference? “Oh, little lamb. Don’t worry. Kappa will take care of you.”

He thrusts into her with all the softness of a battering ram. He’s balls-deep before she can even utter the first shriek, high-pitched and whining. He breathes it in, leans down to seal his lips against hers again before they’re both taking in each other’s moans, melting together with each vicious thrust. He pounds into her, hands unable to decide what to do - to grab her by the face, to dig his fingers into her plush, aching thighs, to run them up over her chest to fondle her there. He slows his pace only to lean down and pay attention to her nipples, his tongue and lips and the threat of his teeth.

“Touch yourself.”

There’s no argument - there are barely any coherent words left inside of her. Everything is pushed out and filled by Kappa, his cock, his words. His drugs.

She reaches between her thighs and he slows his pace, the roll of his hips delicious. His hair hangs down and tickles her face. She can do nothing but rub at her clit and stare up at him, and he beams down at her, smirking. The sharp angles of his face, the traces of her own blood still present on his lips. Sweat, pulse, flesh, blood.

“You gunna cum for me, sugar? Can feel it - can feel your tight little cunt squeezing against me. Is - oh, is that the spot?” He settles into a new rhythm, the head of his cock dragging over and over the same hyper-sensitive nerves inside of her. Her breath hitches and she’s practically sobbing, begging him, nodding when words fail. Her fingers are so wet. The sounds their bodies make together seems deafening - her fingers making hurried circles around her clit, his cock relentless in filling her slippery pussy. Her whining, his soothing voice as he builds her closer and closer. It’s painful, it’s passionate. She could die right here. He could plunge that knife into her throat and she’d still cum for him.

“Kappa. Kappa, I’m so close, I’m sooo close.” Pathetic. Mewling. She hyperventilates and her body shakes underneath him, like she might come apart. His eyes are so bright. He’s so focused.

“I know. I know,” he says. “Tell Kappa what you need.”

“I - I need - I need you, I need you. Please.”

“I’m right here. You’re doing so well, look at you - trembling. Gunna cry for me? Go on - cry for me. I want all of you.”

She hadn’t realized the tears building until he brought it to her attention. As if on cue, as though her body has decided that Kappa’s word is as good as truth, they spill over her lashes and track down her cheekbones, and she’s sniffling, soft little gasps and whines as he leans down to trace those tracks with his tongue. He moans, breath hot against her face. He kisses her wet eyelids before kissing her mouth, and the feeling of those shapely lips pushes her past the edge. Every muscle in her body tightens to its limit and she’s cumming for him, finding her voice after all that pitiful whining as she moans and sinks her nails into his back.

“There. There you go, good girl, good girl, fuck! You’re so good for me.”

His pace picks up and loses its poetic, slow grind, and he’s grunting and growling like a beast, like he aims to fuck her in half. Their bodies slap together and she’s seeing stars behind her eyes, crying out when he bites at her throat and sucks her flesh between his teeth. An animal playing with its dinner. In a matter of minutes, he’s stiffening up, pace stuttering to a few deep, mean thrusts as he empties into her. There’s a part of her that thinks she can feel it, his seed hitting the tender curve of her cervix and coating her from the inside.

There’s a shared pause in which they catch their breath. He idly fondles her tits as he comes down from the thrill, careful with her. The mischievous spark is still in his eyes, but they’re softer, too. Subdued.

They re-dress in silence. She catches him staring at the cuts on her thighs as she grabs her pants, her shirt.

“I should - I should probably get these fixed up,” she mumbles. In the comedown of their act, the fear returns in a cold trickle down her spine. Her heart never slowed down - where it was hammering in the cage of her chest for what he was doing to her moments before, it now beats for what he might still do to her if she remains. She feels like an alien, realizing for the first time that she’s done something she cannot undo in a territory that isn’t her own. Unsafe. Targeted. She’s a fucking idiot - how did this happen? Her mind races with trepidation, with the drugs still coursing through her heart in the thick, viscous blood there. There’s a thought, a mental picture of him with his hands buried elbow-deep beneath her ribs, naked body smeared with blood as he prizes his fingers around her heart to pull it out. The things he would do.

“Don’t,” he says simply. He pulls his trousers up and ties them. “I want to see them next time. Want ‘em to scar up nice. No ointment, no bandages.”

“What? Wait - next time?”

Kappa flashes a grin as he straightens up, shirtless and flushed. There are red marks where she’d dug her fingers into him, on his chest, on his back.

“You don’t think you can stay away from Kappa, do you?” He narrows his eyes and shakes his head a little, wagging his finger at her like a bad pet. “You know better than that, my dear.”

The fabric of her pants scrapes against her wounds and she has to wince. The sharp, prickling pain of them is intense, throbbing. Kappa’s territory. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she fishes some bills from her purse, tucking the weed into a pocket and tossing the money to the table.

“Thanks for the… uh. Thanks. It was…” she struggles to find the words. He stalks slowly up to her, and she wants to both back away and kiss him all at once. “It was - enlightening.”

“Right. Very,” he agrees, clearly amused.

“Well, I - I’ll see you around, Kappa.”

He leads her to the door and winks at her, like sharing a secret. Across the yard, Epsilon has stopped playing with the dog. He sits in a patch of dry yellow grass and smokes a cigarette, eyeing them from a distance with interest. Kappa glances at him and back at her, taking all of her in as his eyes trace the line of her body, lewd, hungry again. He tongues the edge of a tooth and watches her fixate on his tongue, clearly pleased with himself.

“You certainly will.”

[recapitulation]

elevator pitch mysterious lotus casebook to me 🤑🤑🤑

BELIEVE IT OR NOT I TRIED TO KEEP THIS SHORT. this is no longer an elevator pitch. or maybe i am trapping you in this elevator with me until i finish.

ok. let me give you just a little bit about each of the three main characters bc thats what would make ME interested.

li xiangyi/li lianhua:

li xiangyi rises to the top of the jianghu/martial arts world at 18, but is poisoned and nearly dies during a fight with di feisheng. he's given about 10 years to live. (story starts 10 years later.)

he decided to step out of the jianghu altogether and live life as li lianhua, a "miracle doctor" whose reputation is 100% bullshit.

the only thing he wants is to find the missing corpse of his dead shixiong and bury him properly before he dies himself.

king of lying to your face repeatedly with no shame.

^^ will absolutely lie to you this time.

fang duobing:

fang duobing gets manipulated and backstabbed by li lianhua and immediately starts following him around

after about the third time li lianhua dumps him on the side of the road in an attempt to ditch him, fang duobing starts calling him zhiji

has a huge celebrity crush on li xiangyi, and walks around telling people he's li xiangyi's disciple because of a small interaction the two of them had about 10 years ago.

fang duobing spends the whole beginning half of the show telling li lianhua TO HIS FACE how great and awesome and cool li xiangyi is

^^ btw this is how fang duobing looks at li lianhua WHILE li lianhua is actively poisoning him. <3

di feisheng:

wants to fight li xiangyi again more than anything. like. anything.

agressively tries to heal li lianhua time and time again but li lianhua does NOT want to become li xiangyi again.

is he li xiangyi's old enemy? friend? are they working towards the same goal? do they want to kill each other? well... <3

^^ face of a guy about to throw li lianhua in a pit of snakes for the sake of his health

other reasons why i like it:

I am a fan of inescapable tragedy

I love how the ghost of li xiangyi haunts every part of the story despite li lianhua doing his very best to kill his past self

Truly delicious amounts of dramatic irony

Every time you think the most embarrassing thing possible happens to fang duobing something worse happens to him

So many interesting character interactions deepened by layers of hidden identity

Ending made me cry like a baby and I don't cry easily <3

[hasello]

Hi, Hey wanted to talk about that other post about rise leo being a good leader, and my opinion I think that's a total lie. I barely finished the show and through all of it I haven't see him as a leader but as a total amateur. He isn't the leader in this version, only in the movie, not even there he did any good desicion, he only threw himself in the flames. I more of 2012 version, and you can totally compare him. 2012 leo learn from his mistakes and knows how to work with his team, he worries about his brothers; while the rise leo doesn't care if he puts them in danger, never works in team, and rather worries in having fun.

But all said, I want to hear more from you, your opinion, and to know who you think is best. I noticed that you have way more knowledge about the TMNT.

Stay hydrated ❤

Hi! Your opinion is totally valid, since everyone interprets things in their own way. I mostly disagree, tho.

First of all, like you said - Leo wasn’t the leader in the Rise show, nor was he the oldest. So of course it didn’t feel like it, that’s totally fair. ALTHOUGH: Once he did become the leader, I do agree he wasn’t the best at it… but then that’s kind of the whole point! It’s to show he’s not really ready and has A LOT to learn. Don’t know about you, but I love that idea. It brings depth to the whole „leader” plot. I think a lot of it is caused by the fact that he’s the only Leonardo who isn’t the oldest. The show lets him be more carefree and not really understand some morbid things, that oldest siblings keep in mind. Other Leos are the oldest and keep in mind the team’s safety, which sometimes makes them seen as „boring” by their siblings. Rise Leo is the complete opposite of „boring”. That’s Raph’s job in rise. On top of that other Leos were leaders for much longer and gathered experience. So I think comparing Rise Leo to other shows is a little unfair anyway, because their situations are way different.

Although apart from all that - Leo is VERY good at planning and his personality lets him be sneaky and manipulative, which also helps in a lot of circumstances. When the gang needs to get information, they send Leo. When they need some encouragement, Leo steps in. When they lost Raph in the sewers? Leo was the only one taking it seriously. When they got upset at losing the paper thieves? Leo did a nice speech, at least trying to keep the team in high spirits (which also showed how observant he is, as he knew what to say to each brother). When his brothers blindly believed Big Mama? He saved the day, knowing better from the start. (He was the only one being cautious, thinking of their safety).

You can see the little hints of potential in a lot of episodes. Personally I believe he’s a natural leader, he just needs to sort his priorities and learn about responsibility (which already happened in the movie, bro learned the hard way lmao).

I think that if the show didn’t end so soon, it would have been a lot more fleshed out and showed better. It’s pretty obvious it was their plan from the start to turn him into a leader at some point. Although like I said, opinions are just opinions.

You too stay hydrated! Take care, love 😚

[vert-horizon]

Yan!Shikamaru: Almost Free...

AN: This is the crueler Shikamaru mentioned in my last Yan!Shikamaru post, I love him cold and possessive. They have absolutely nasty sex after this fic. Eventually I will write that lmao. Fem!Reader x Yan!Shikamaru Warnings: Implied abuse and manipulation, nothing too bad(?) onscreen.

Yan!Shikamaru takes you around the village and shows your face just enough to avoid suspicion. He tells everyone that you’re shy--you’re not a shinobi, after all. Seeing violence upsets you. (At least that part is true).

People take this excuse at face value. He’d taken you from your village on the outskirts of the Land of Flowers, so it’s not like anyone knew you. He could tell them whatever he wanted. So he spins a lie about how you met, but he’s being honest again when he says he looked at you and knew you would be worth the effort. Not the effort of wooing you which is what most assume he means, but the breaking. Breaking you down is hard work, after all. You’re mouthy, you never compliment him, you never let him act kind without throwing it back in his face.

But it’s worth it when you break. He doesn’t mind a fight. Welcomes it, even. You’re both at the clearing where the forest meets the Shikamaru estate, and he’s got your shadow with little effort. You’d made it off the engawa and thought for a moment that you’d actually done it. He’d come home late, and you’d managed to get the shackle off your ankle, bounded onto the grass and almost made it to the forest when he’d stepped out. Lit cigarette in one hand, deer feed in the other, a tall buck bent over and eating out of his hand. Hi, darling, he’d said, smirking as he eyed you. You’re still in the sheer nightie--the only clothes you wear around the house. 

You’re frozen, breathing heavily, the elation in you crashing down to fear. You say his name, taking a few steps back. He doesn’t move, but his shadow catches yours, and you freeze. He flicks his cigarette and stomps it, your bare foot wringing against the fallen leaves. His hands go to his chest, and following his movements you pop each button open until the nightie slips off. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he mimes folding the garment. You can’t speak, only whimper softly as he makes you walk towards him. You meet in the middle of the clearing, and he takes the nightie. The shadow control drops, and you curl around yourself, crying in earnest. Body shivering from the cold and the fear, memories of his broad palm on your bare ass flashing through your mind. Go, then. He says, lighting another cigarette. He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the marks his hands have left behind, on the hard cut of your nipples peeking from your crossed arms. He leers, smirking for a moment before tempering his glee. Naked, shivering as the sun sets, you look up at him. His eyes are the same as ever: impassive, critical. Your arms hug your chest tighter, and you take a step to the side. He lets you. You get all the way to the denser edge of the forest before he catches you again. He’s disappointed. I even gave you a headstart, but he sighs, bored expression morphing back into that familiar smirk. My confused little wife. He chuckles, grin sarcastic. It's for the best, he says. After all, where would you go? 

[astradreaming]

So a luke castellan x Apollo!reader

Idek how this would work but I had this idea after I read your ‘My Sweetheart’ blurb-

So tlt and Luke’s betrayal has occurred and the reader was in a relationship with Luke, pretty much exactly like ‘My Sweetheart’.

So ofc she’s still really offended and traumatised from that debacle. But she still loves him deep down. Anyway (at any point during the series, you decide) they’re going to use her as bait for Luke to come here. She agrees bc she doubts he’ll come, if he betrayed her surely he didn’t love her that much. But he does.

Anyway the campers give them some privacy and they have a really deep conversation, and she accepts that she still loves him. And then they all jump out and attack him and he realises she betrayed him, and he gets grievously injured.

But somehow, before they can realise she isn’t back yet, she goes back and heals him, bc she can’t leave him for dead, and she leaves him healed but hurting.

If you wanted to be evil you could even end it with ‘if you’d only been there to heal him that night in Manhattan.’ Feel free to change anything this is just a very long thought, xxx

house on a hill

this is a part two but it can be read separately :)

a/n: so sorry this took so long love, exams have been kicking my ass but i hope you enjoy this anyways ♡

masterlist

Luke Castellan admitted it.

He admitted it all, betraying camp to help rise Kronos, poisoning Thalia's tree, stealing the lightning bolt... Everything they said he did. He openly admitted.

He proudly admitted.

When you'd followed Annabeth into the woods after hearing Percy yelling for help, you didn't expect it to end you up at a Miami beach on Clarisse's quest.

After dealing with pirates and sirens, fighting a cyclops and a hydra you'd had your fair share of scares during this quest. But your biggest horror stood with a sword pointed at Percy.

Luke Castellan.

You'd thought long and hard about what you'd say to him, if you'd ever got the chance. Something along the lines of why? how dare you. why would you ever do this? or at the very least, was everything a lie?

But all your heartache and rage got stuck in your throat like a bad cough. All you could do was stand frozen and hope that it was all a bad dream.

He had the audacity to meet your eye. He stepped forward in your direction.

"Y/n I-" His voice broke as he quietly spoke.

Every single bit of shock in your body vaporized in a second, being replaced by lover's rage.

"Y/n? Y/n what? What do you possibly have to say to me" Your voice laced with venom.

He staggered froward, eyes shining with guilt. He tried to say something but you cut him off again.

"Do you know how long I defended you? Do you have any idea how stupid- no pathetic i felt when i got your letter telling me I was wrong about you. Do you know what it was like having everyone in camp thinking I'm a traitor too. Do you even care?" Your lip quivered as you leaning into yourself.

No matter how much you willed yourself not to, you felt the tears fall down your face. You were too blinded by emotion to notice the others regrouping behind you both.

"Of course I care y/n. I'm doing all of this because I care!" With each step he took towards you, you took stepping back.

"No! You're doing this because your spiteful!"

"I have every reason to be and you know it" He yelled his face contorted with fury. Flinching back you find what's left of your voice.

"You're being manipulated to start a war! And you're too hurt to see that. Luke, please. You've broken my heart but I still love you, don't play into the Titan's hand, come back to camp and right your wrongs. Together." Your voice a broken whisper, only to be heard by him and the Fates.

You swore to the Fates you saw a flicker in his eyes, a break in his warpath.

"All I want is the house we talked about, the one on the hill. With the trees out the front. With as many animals as you want, with the stupidest names we can come up with." His eyes fixated to the floor. He cleared his throat and looked so deeply at you it was like he was speaking to your soul.

"To get that life, a life with you. The gods must die. Their way is broken and wrong. It's just our turn, and only then will we be able to have peace y/n. Together.

While you stand frozen, appalled at the man in front of you, gone was the version on Luke you made those plans with, instead stood a pawn of a Titan.

Unbeknownst to you both Percy had finished summoning an Iris message to camp.

Luke finally noticed, ordered the monsters his army to attack in retaliation. You and your friends outnumbered when suddenly The Party Ponies narrowly come to the rescue. However you'd stayed stunned throughout it all.

Centaurs, half bloods, Cyclops' all fought one another. The loud sound of battle didn't render, instead silence ringing through your head.

You wanted to believe the old Luke was still in there somewhere, but as your focus zeroed in on him. Watching him fight without mercy. You saw no resemblance of the boy you love.

Perhaps if you kept hope, kept faith in him. You could have helped him long before Manhattan. Maybe there was another universe where Annabeth wasn't the only one who could see the old Luke buried down below. And maybe in that universe you both got that house on the hill...

[textualviolence]

Meng Yao/Jin Guangyao's Lovers Fuckability ranking

Level minus zero: Lan Xichen. Does not have even a shred of a fatherly relationship to JGY. Treats him like an equal. Is kind to him. Respects him as a person and genuinely likes who he is. Probably inspires JGY to become celibate so they can be chaste together. Some erotic tension if they don't fuck, brushes of hands, purity and chastity causing a rising of tension etc. But there's no way they can have actual sex outside of maybe the hiding from the Wen context. I bet they write poems to each other though. That's very nice. 2/10

Level 1: Nie Mingjue pre-Meng Yao's dismissal. Is technically probably Meng Yao's first dubious fatherbosslover figure. I do imagine he had a certain degree of guilt about it which isn't hot for anyone being victimized by an older authority figure. Definitely probably a lot of the sex they had and especially the kind they didn't have hinged on the fact that Meng Yao looks exactly like Nie Huaisang. I think if NMJ had been willing to cross that line and actually made Meng Yao kinda sorta pretend to be his little brother he would be further up the ranking, alas. The most morally dubious it gets is that Meng Yao is his servant and social inferior and probably aged around 15. However the incredibly high amount of approval he probably dished out regularly and easily alongside sex and orders did prepare the grounds for Meng Yao to then crave that kind of validation all the time and go to ridiculous lengths for it. 4/10

Level 2: Wen Ruohan. Will groom Meng Yao without subjecting him to his weird morality complex. WRH is just a bad guy and doesn't care. Also will favor Meng Yao over his actual blood children, partly as a manipulation tactic and also because his children kind of suck. Definitely loves to play people against each other and will use the trading of sexual favors as a political tool. Actually old enough to be his dad and is also in the same social position as his dad, currently beating his dad in a war, and acting as his dad dangling promises of legitimization in between throne room handjobs and prisoner torture sessions. Can humiliate both NMJ and JGS. Honestly the ideal situation. Too ideal? It's just too straightforward. Give yourself over to me body and soul and do my evil bidding and in exchange i'll give you all the validation you crave. That's so reliable that its suspicious and kind of a turn off. Where's the excitement and rollercoaster of unpredictable reward/punishment? 6/10

Level 5: Nie Mingjue post-Meng Yao's dismissal: No more little brother issue now it's all about how NMJ just wants to kill him at all cost and will risk political disaster in order to do so. NMJ who used to shower him with affection and validation, telling him all the time that he was proud of him and what a good job he was doing as a deputy, now wants him dead. The dick must be incredible. They probably don't have sex often & its never not violent & dangerous, but the high of it lasts for days. It doesn't lessen the rage in the long term but it evacuates it in the short term & where before the sex was coexisting with the validation now the sex IS the validation. Which makes it hot no matter how unvalidating its actually meant to be. Half those bruises he's hiding under his sleeves aren't from Madam Jin let me tell you. Plus he's writing poems to Lan Xichen and strongly considering the benefits of a chaste existence in between. The guilt and hypocrisy and having to lie to Lan Xichen's concerned and loving face when he sees the bruises is only making it more intense. 9/10

Level 7: Mo Xuanyu: He gets to become his dad(s) and take advantage of the willingness and admiration of a beautiful youth who would do anything for him. On top of that they're related. It's 100% reenactment power reversal fantasy combined with the horror of his marriage to Qin Su finding a concrete twisted sexual outlet. This time he fucked a half-sibling on purpose!!! And then he can dismiss him for sexual impropriety the second he comes to his senses and be rid of the sin forever which was half of the need. And then he can feel even more like his dad. 8/10

Level 10: Jin Guangshan: What more can I say. He slaps with one hand and caresses with another. Literally makes Jin Guangyao do the most secret taboo vile political tasks he can't offload onto anyone else and then refuses to touch him because of it until Meng Yao performs some kind of cleansing action, for which he is briefly rewarded with mild approval and even certain shows of affection, but never outside of the bedroom. Keeps a large retinue of whores and plays them off against each other, includes Meng Yao in the games to make sure he feels like one of them. No way to ever feel too comfortable in the certainty he has his father's anything because any shred of positive interaction is extremely hard-earned, unless he shows sign of wanting to leave or waver in his loyalties, in which case his father WILL pull him back with more love and care than he's ever shown which will feel like a drug. I bet he had more than one fight with NMJ over the issue of which groomer his son was to listen to and he won everytime. One show of possessiveness equivalent to 10'000 hours of basic respect in Meng Yao's heart. 10/10

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [teaser]

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

FIC WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping. this series is very dark, if you're uncomfortable with the subjects listed do not read. warnings will change but be listed in each chapter. there is no tag list for this series.

You hold your jacket above your head as you walk down the path. The feelings are too much for you to try and decipher right now. You were in a loving relationship that ended because Soobin disappeared, leaving just a note behind. Whatever feeling that's dwelling within you right now is not what you think. You're just heartbroken and lonely. And they're here. It's nothing more than that.

The rain spills over the sides of the jacket, splashing against your skin. You flinch when it enters your eyes, strands of your hair sticking to your face. Just a few more steps, a few more, and you'll be out of here. You won't have to see them again. You'd be free of faeries.

"Won't you let me take you home?" A shimmering cloud rises from the darkness. Wooyoung conjures up in front of you, arms crossed against his chest. You stop on the path, a sigh escaping your lips.

"The bus is fine."

"Waiting for it in the downpour? What if it's late?"

You maneuver around him, frowning, "Then I'll walk."

"You live ten kilometers from our home." His footsteps follow close behind you. "And it would be safer to be with us."

"I need to get in a workout, anyway."

"Is it because of that estranged boyfriend of yours?" He asks, appearing in front of you again. "Is that why you're hesitant to stay over? Worried you're committing adultery?"

"He left me," you say through your teeth. "He has no hold over me."

"Then why are you afraid of your emotions?" He tilts his head, pouting. "You care, and yet you run. Every day you come over here, you pretend to not care for us. Is that just something humans do? Run from the emotions they feel?"

"I don't have time for this –"

Wooyoung steps closer, your foot stumbling over the saturated grass. He catches you with ease, arm hooking around your torso, pulling you close to his chest. You hold your breath. His face is barely a breath away from you. Just as you're about to tell him you're fine, his grip tightens.

"How long will we have to wait?" His tone is soft. "For your shame of loving Unseelies to fade away?"

"I don't –"

He hums, shaking his head, "Ah ah. Don't you remember? I can't lie." He leans forward, lips hovering just over yours. "I hope we can stop playing pretend one day, my pretty solaris. I hope you can see how easily we shine together. Because I am very much drowning in my affection for you and desperately clawing for a reprieve that only your confession can grant. It is a bit pathetic," He steadies you, face pulling away from yours. The warmth of your body consumes you from his touch. If he notices it, he does not mention it. He bows.

"You better catch your bus, or else I'll truly have to keep you to myself," his lip lifts, gesturing in front of you. He dissipates into the night, your hurried steps running out the forest and onto the bus. There are very few others on it as it drives off, your eyes flicking out the window. For a moment, you think you see the shimmer of gold between the trees.

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

ℭ𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰 ℑ𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℑ𝔠𝔢

《 Chapter 1 》

❚ Rating: T

❚ Pairing: Dew/Ifrit, Dew/Rain (end goal)

❚ Chapter word count: 707

❚ Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Self-Loathing, touch starved Rain, touch starved Dew, Ifrit is a manipulative bitch in this one, I am so sorry for that I normally love him, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort In later chapters

❚ Summary: Rain, who is touch starved and secretly in love with the emotionally distant fire ghoul, struggles to ask for the affection he desperately needs.

Dew, who never talks about his feelings and avoids physical closeness, spends his time with Ifrit, who Rain couldn’t hate more.

Will Rain be strong enough to reach out to Dew and break through their mutual isolation, or risk losing the one person who might truly understand and love him.

Read it on Ao3 or here under the cut!

A storm is raging outside, but that doesn’t compare to the turmoil within Rain’s head. Heavy droplets pound against the windows of the Abby that they call home, casting distorted shadows across the dimly lit room. Rain sits on the edge of his bed, being unable to sleep with this weird constricting feeling in his chest.

It had been another day of strained silence. Dewdrop had barely acknowledged his presence, as usual. Rain glances at the clock, it is almost midnight.

Dew was probably with Ifrit again. Cuddling or having sex or who knows what. The mere thought made bile rise in his throat. The jealousy was quickly followed by some more self-loathing though.

Who would even want to cuddle with you, Rain thinks to himself, echoing the hurtful words that his mind had drilled into him in the pit even long before his summoning.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, the remnants of his earlier shower clinging to his skin. He longed for touch, for connection, but the very idea of asking for it seemed impossible. His pack is there for him, he knows it, he just can’t bring himself to approach any of them. Especially Dewdrop, his stoic exterior is a fortress he couldn't breach.

Rain recalled the few times Dew had touched him, brief and impersonal. A hand on his shoulder, a brush of fingers when passing an instrument. It was never enough, yet those moments were all he had to cling to. Dew didn't cuddle in public, didn't hug him not even for a greeting, and certainly didn't talk about his feelings. He was closed off and distant, much like Rain himself had become. He knows he hadn’t always been that way. Rain liked touching and hugging other people when he was young, but as he got older his head began to tell him that the other person doesn’t even like to be touched by him. That they only put up with him because he is so pathetic that he doesn’t even realise when he is not wanted.

He needs to get out of his room that seems to be suffocating him by now. Rain decides to head to the kitchen in the ghouls wing. He doesn’t even bother with the light, maybe there are still some sleeping pills in the cupboard.

A sudden creak of the floorboards make him jump. He lookes up, startled, as Dew appeared in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever. They stared at each other for a long moment, the air thick with unspoken words.

"Rain," Dew finally says, "You’re still up.

Rain nods, not trusting himself to speak yet. He feels exposed, as if Dew could see his pathetic thoughts. The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

”What are you doing with the sleeping pills?" There might be a bit of concern in Dewdrops voice.

“Can’t sleep.” He mumbles. “There is only one left.”

Satisfied with the answer, Dew goes back at just starting at Rain.

"Dew," Rain begins, his voice barely more than a whisper. Rain is so done, he feels mentally drained and he just wants to not be alone. Still he hesitates, the words he wants to say lie heavy on his tongue. "Do you ever... need someone?"

Dew's eyes flicker with something Rain can’t quite decipher. "What do you mean?"

Rain takes a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. "I mean, do you ever feel... alone?"

For a moment Rain thinks that he sees a flicker of vulnerability in Dewdrop before it is quickly replaced by his usual cold demeanour.

"I have Ifrit." Dew says, the words sounding hollow.

Rain's heart sank, but he forced a small, bitter smile. He will never ask again. "Of course," he whispers "Good night, Dew."

Dew nods and turns away, leaving Rain to the darkness.

There is the one more sleeping pill that Rain takes without hesitation and washes it down with water. In his room, Rain lays on his bed, the ache in his chest is growing. Rain feels like he took ten steps backwards in getting what he needs. He wants to scream, to break down the walls that keep him so isolated, but he can’t. He doesn’t know how.

[officialstrawhat]

Hello again! Here is the next chapter in my Multi fic :)

As always I hope you like it! I'm currently finishing up the Zou Arc so if I get something wrong sorry :P

Gif is not mine.

The Rose of Dressrosa-Chapter 2

Trafalgar D. Law x Fem!Reader

Summary:

After King Riku is dethroned, Doflamingo takes you under his wing and asks you to follow only one strict rule, "do not leave the palace alone". However, your sense of adventure is too great.

Law had only one thing in mind... Revenge. And you seemed like the best way to do that.

Warnings: Dark themes, manipulation, death, murder, creepy doffy

Word Count: 1.2K

Chapter 1

Seven Years Later…

In the outdoor courtyard of the palace of Dressrosa. Palm trees swayed in the wind, in an ornate fountain water splashed delicately back into the tiled ceramic bowl. And It is there you stare at your dark-haired opponent as she points her pistol at you.

“Give up, Y/N?” She smirked. 

“Not a chance,” you raise your arms in the normal fashion, showing off your bracelets wrapped around each wrist. At the top of the bracelet was a small circular container that was filled with the richest cultivated soil in Dressrosa. Once your hands were in the right place it dispensed the soil out and when it did… “Grow! Parodia! Magnifica!” 

Rapid gunshots were fired as large cactus balls with the spikiest thorns grew rapidly from the cascading dirt. You extended your arms and shot the weaponized flora toward your opponent, stopping the bullets that were heading in your direction.

Baby Five’s eyes widened at the incoming siege and somersaulted out of the way.

“Not bad.” she rose to her feet, dusting off her hands. 

“Not bad at all” a voice from behind you. Turning you saw the man who had raised you. “Your technique has improved.”

“Young Master, ” You greeted, bowing your head slightly. “I didn't know you were back.” you added nervously.

“Just returned.” the warlord told her, you noted the stern tone laced through his words. “Come, I want to have a word.”

You looked back at Baby Five who gave you a reassuring nod. Though that didn’t make you feel any better.

You did as you were told and followed him through the palace to the library. You knew what this was about. He was going to give you “the talk”, again…

Following him into the library, you still hadn't decided how to play this.

“Have I not made myself clear?” He asked darkly, closing the large door.

“I don't know what you mean?” Playing dumb it was then. 

“Don’t lie to me,” He moved closer to you, reminding you again how he towered over people. “Why is Diamante telling me that you went into town- Alone - Again.” With each word the veins on his forehead grew.

When you said nothing he continued, “You can not just leave the palace without an escort. You know that.”

“I just wanted to explore.” You finally say looking up. 

This is exactly what he did not want to hear. “Exploring”, would ultimately lead to learning things that were best left in the dark. He leaned in closer to your face, “And you may, but not alone.” 

“But Doffy, I can take care of myself. You’ve seen me fight, I’ve gotten better!” You assured him.

“This has nothing to do with that.” He shook his head, anger rising.

This didn’t make any sense,“Then I don’t understand why Baby Five and Dellinger can go out by themselves, but I can't?!” 

“BECAUSE I TOLD YOU SO!” he shouted.

He didn’t need your shocked eyes to tell him how he was coming off, he knew, he felt the mask slipping. You had only ever seen him yell at others but never you. He had always been patient with you.

You watched him reign in his anger, as he placed fingers onto the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. After a few seconds passed, he finally spoke again, “Do you remember what I told you when I first brought you to the palace Y/N?” 

You nodded, crossing your arms and looking away, “You said you would keep me safe.”

“And I intend to keep my promise.” He placed two fingers under her chin, turning your head back to face him. “Over the years Y/N you have grown into a cherished member of this family. I’d hate to see anything happen to my Rose.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine. It's not that you hated the nickname he had given you when you were younger. You used to love it in fact. When you younger it saddened you whenever he chose to call you by your real name.

But recently there was something about the way he said it now… You just couldn’t put your finger on it… 

“Now tell me that you won't leave this palace without permission again.” 

“I won’t leave without permission” you told him, “I’m sorry, Doffy.”

The words were like music to his ears, releasing your chin, he bent down and kissed where your hairline met your forehead. 

“Good girl.” he said, with a large smile on his face he booped her nose, “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to make a call.” 

Turning to leave you, he walked to the door opening it with ease, “Oh and Y/N,” he paused to stare at you through his red tinted sunglasses, his smile gone. “Don’t make me have this conversation again.” 

And with that he was gone. You let out a sigh, cursing Diamante's name. Though luck may have been on your side. Doffy seemed to be under the impression that you had only left the palace once while he was away, which was far from the truth. You’d just have to be more careful next time.

As you made your way to the library door, a book caught your eye just by chance. It made you stop in your tracks, and take a few paces back. Once in front of the collection you reached for the book pulling it out of the neat and ordered shelf. How had you never noticed until now? 

“Tales of Grand Adventures,” you whispered, as memories of Sea Kings, ships, pirates and treasure are revived in your mind. You ran your hand over the gold colored letters and noticed the ‘Volume II’ before sitting on the padded bench and began to furiously turn the pages of the book. A smile graces your face as you remember the woman who would read you similar stories at bedtime.

----

Trafalgar Law had been on Dressrosa for less than a week and could tell something was off.

These toys gave him the creeps and everyone seemed far too cheerful for his liking. He had told his crew to stay off shore for the foreseeable future. He couldn't risk the Donquixote family catching wind of him in town.

It had been a long time since he had seen Donquioxte Doflamigo in the flesh. Law had thought once upon a time there was no one greater than Doffy. But he was older now, wiser, stronger. And if he was going to avenge Corazon he had to be strategic about it.  What could he do to hurt the Warlord before finally taking his revenge. He contemplated this as he sat disguised at a cafe, the two old crones chatted relentlessly at the table next to him. 

“Oh it seems like our Rose is at it again,” one said. 

Law looked up to see a figure dressed in a gray hood, going into a bookstore. 

“The King will be displeased,” Law heard the other say as he sipped on his espresso. 

“I heard he hates it when she leaves the palace.”

“I have no idea why. She is so beloved by the kingdom-”

“And no one loves her more than the king,” She then lowered her voice, “You have to think about it Marta, enemies of the king could be lurking in the shadows as we speak. I couldn't think of a better way to hurt our king than something happening to our Rose.” 

They continued their conversations but for Law the way to revenge was clear. He would pick the petals off of this ‘Rose’ one by one.

And then he would kill her…

Next Chapter

Taglist: @rebeccawinters

[avanatural]

Mind Games

Part 5

Series summary: Set in 1984. It’s that time of the year – the supes are having the time of their lives at the Herogasm festival. Soldier Boy seems to have taken a special interest in Y/N, a fellow superhero.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x female Reader

Category: Angst, little bit of fluff, 18+

Word count: 4.2k

Chapter warnings: Mentions of disordered eating and mental abuse, sexual harassment, heavy drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of masturbation

A/N: Welcome to part 5! There’s tension between Y/N and Ben, but who knows? They might actually warm up to each other some more 😉 I hope you enjoy. Wanna be added to my Soldier Boy tag list? Send me an ask ❤️

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“I’m fine,” I grunted out an obvious lie and pulled my white leather dress down my thighs, adjusting my seated position.

“Hm-mh…,” he hummed, taunting me with that guttural voice, “Are you jealous? That your sister beat you to finding out my name?” The grin that widened across his mouth begged me to slap it off his face.

Soldier Boy… Excuse me, Ben and I were sitting under obnoxiously bright lights, on a hard expensive couch, cameras ready to roll, waiting for the talk show host to join us in the studio.

“Look, I’m tired,” I mumbled, blinking my heavy eyelids and meeting his pompous gaze, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Christ on a cross,” he breathed, leaning back a little to get a closer look at me was a whole. His apple green eyes were roaming my face through the slits of his helmet. “Where’s the fucking fire in your eyes?”

Instead of replying, I fled into my own head. Unfortunately, my nerves were soaring and I couldn’t manipulate myself into a calmer state of mind. I didn’t know if I could credibly pretend to be over the moon about Payback Rising. But I had to force myself to. The future of my bank account depended on this. My sister’s future depended on this.

“Seriously, though,” Ben suddenly spoke up again, startling my tense body and my racing mind, “Lily’s a good kid. You’re doin’ a nice job.”

My eyebrows lowered as I examined his face, searching for any hint, any sign that he might be messing with me. Imagine my surprise when realization finally hit me – he wasn’t playing. It was a truthful fucking compliment. I opened my mouth, about to thank him, but I didn’t get to.

The host dropped down on the armchair opposite us, holding a bunch of note cards in her hands, instantly receiving a touch-up from the make-up artist. Her blazer and pencil skirt made me feel underdressed. Though I had to admit, her shoulder pads were massive enough to rival Ben’s armor. 

Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself. A few dreadful heartbeats and quick “hellos” later, the show’s quirky introduction melody rang through the studio, sealing my fate. There was no way out now.

“Welcome to Power Hour! I’m your host, Amanda Donaldson. And today, I brought lots of juicy news for you to enjoy! First and foremost, I have two very special guests here with me. They’re gorgeous, they’re talented, and they’re superheroes! Vought legend Soldier Boy and rising underdog Trouble!”

A round of pre-taped applause supported Amanda’s upbeat announcement. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly that I had to bite my tongue to refrain from doing so.

Ben, on the contrary, wore a smirk on his face that ranged from one ear to the other. “It’s good to be back!”, he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

“It’s good to see you again! And you brought a new guest to our show!” Amanda turned to me with her million-dollar smile. “Trouble, thank you for being here!”

“Thank you for having me,” I said, nodding politely at the host.

“You just landed your very first role in a Vought movie! How exciting is that?”

“Oh, it’s incredible!”, I replied, trying my best to keep up with the two professional grinners, “I still can’t believe I got to work with the greatest superheroes in the world. It baffles me, truly.”

Amanda turned to Ben. “Soldier Boy, what has it been like working with Trouble?”

“Oh, we had a blast! This one right ‘ere…” He pointed his thumb at me and leaned forward in the host’s direction, hypnotizing her with his sparkling green gems. “Made the rest of us look like amateurs. Let me tell ya. She only needed one take for her scene.” He leaned back again and lifted his pointer finger. “One take!”

My shoulder twitched against his as I laughed for the camera. “Only because you made it easy for me.” 

Ben looked at me when I addressed him, a cocky smile on his face, licking his lips. 

“I felt so comfortable on set that nothing could go wrong, really,” I added, not missing the way my colleague was basking in my compliments.

“What can I say? You’re a natural,” he said, planting his hand on top of mine, which was resting in my lap. His voice dropped, the tone so pleasant yet menacing that his next words froze the blood in my veins. “Made for the game.”

I paused, not knowing what to say. His hand tightened around mine, trapping me in his hold. His eyes were like bear traps, snapping me into place. 

“Wow, you two have chemistry!”, Amanda barged into our staring match like a hound smelling blood, “Which is not surprising, I mean, aside from your homage to Trouble on Solid Gold,” she spoke, lifting her hand in Ben’s direction, “We’ve been granted a behind-the-scenes peek of the Payback Rising set. And it looks intimate.”

The host pulled out a copy of the picture of Ben and I that had made it into the newspapers. Of course, she was gonna do that. The photograph of him carrying me was accompanied by a cheering track. “Can the two of you walk us through what’s going on here?”, she asked.

“Ha-ha, I see what you’re doin’ there, Mandy.” Ben let go of my hand to point at Amanda and gave her a charming wink. “You never fail to tickle information out of me, sweetheart.”

She giggled, trapped like a little rat in his mace. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I’m afraid we can’t say anything until the movie is released,” I chimed in, shrugging my shoulders as apologetically as possible.

“So, you can’t give us anything official,” Amanda acknowledged, “But maybe we can discuss something a little more… private.”

“Like what?”, I asked, trying to keep the smile on my face even though every fiber of my being was telling me to get out of there.

“Well, your dating lives are very much a topic of public interest. People are speculating around the clock. You got yourselves a ‘will-they-won’t they’-type situation. Your fans would love to see you two together! Is there any chance of that happening?”

“Oh, Amanda, don’t put us on the spot like that,” Ben said with an angelic, exaggerated chuckle, “You’re gonna make us blush.”

“We’re just friends,” I stated, cutting through his innocent act.

“Close friends,” Ben corrected me with a pointed look to my face.

“You sure it’s not more than that?”, Amanda questioned, eyeing us with a hawk’s unwavering focus.

“I guess we’ll see,” Soldier Boy spoke, directing a playful wink at the camera that was surely going to keep the audience on their toes.

A week later

Tossing my head back, I emptied the shot glass into my throat. Lily was at a sleepover with her friends, and I desperately needed some time to unwind. The talk show had been a huge success. The only place I could unwind now without being fawned over was the underground supe bar.

But down there, things weren’t exactly calm, either. The air was flooded with tension. I slammed my empty glass onto the bar, my gaze wandering back to the two supes I’d been watching – an older guy and a young woman.

The guy was a shapeshifter, borrowing the meatsuit of a middle-aged, successful, well-groomed businessman. He was getting a little too comfortable with the young woman. Palm on her hip, wearing a dirty smirk on his face while the girl wore a frown on her own. One wrong move, and I was gonna turn his brain to mush.

He leered at the young woman, flashing his thousand-watt smile as he tried to claim her mouth. She leaned back on instinct, trying to escape his grip, and I decided I’d seen enough.

My eyes lit up, glowing with anger, as I took over the shifter’s head. The confused expression on his face was priceless. He had zero clue what was going on. Game on, you prick. He turned crimson when I replayed his most embarrassing secret not just in his mind, but also in the minds of his drinking buddies. Apparently, he’d peed himself during a sexual encounter at Herogasm. My tongue peeked through my teeth as I chuckled to myself.

The shapeshifter put his fingers on his temples, wondering where the banging headache and the intense memories were suddenly coming from, and why his friends were laughing at him.

The young woman stepped away from the shifter and met my gaze. I could see a look of relief and recognition pass her pale face. She nodded at me and hurried to the exit. 

Unfortunately for us women, male supes behaved like that a lot. They were a lot more powerful than your average Joe, and too many of them loved to show it.

“You!”

I turned my head to see the shapeshifter staring at me, red-faced, the veins in his neck about to burst with fury. “Hm?”

“You think this is funny?”, he barked, making himself taller by straightening his back.

I shrugged my shoulders. In situations like that, it was best to remain calm. “I do, yeah.” Oh, and to provoke. You couldn’t pick a fight and walk away. With supes, the only way out was through.

“You little cunt! I’m gonna fucking end you-“

I could feel the muscles bulge in my jaw. “I see you treat a woman like that again, you’re dead,” I threatened, “You understand?”

“Oh, someone’s about to be dead.” The shapeshifter started rolling up his sleeves. His nostrils were flaring along with his angry breaths.

“We got a fucking problem here?”, a gruff voice entered our little argument. His heavy footsteps echoed through the bar, silencing those around him. His wide shoulders entered my line of vision, filling my sight completely as he stepped in front of me – Soldier Boy.

Ben radiated authority, despite only wearing half his suit. He’d lost the protective gear on his head and legs, as well as his shield and his other weapons. But the angered look on his face showed he meant business.

“N-no,” the shapeshifter started to ramble, “No problem here. All good.” He gulped, his Adam’s apple dancing with worry.

Ben aimed a glove-clad finger at the shapeshifter. “I see you gettin’ outta line again-“

“I won’t. I won’t, Soldier Boy,” the shifter assured him. After some meaningless sucking up, he left, and the women in the bar could breathe again. Everyone went on about their business as though nothing had happened.

Ben claimed the stool next to me, pushing out a groan of comfort as he got settled at the bar. “Didn’t expect to see Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes in this fucking dump.”

I blinked at him with a bewildered expression. “Goody-Two-Shoes?”

“You’re called Trouble. And I’m wonderin’ why.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, side-eying me with hooded eyes. “One would think you’re more intimidating. A lot fucking worse than… this.”

“Excuse me?”

“You could’ve killed the guy.” Ben tilted his head toward the exit of the bar. “Would probably have been the better choice ‘cause scum like that tends to retaliate. If you want respect, you gotta live up to your reputation. Fuck shit up.” His face was slightly flushed, and his brick wall of a body moved more fluidly than usual, making me wonder how long he’d already been drinking. “But instead, you’re a caregiver who saves damsels in distress and makes assholes blush,” he cackled, flashing his pearly whites.

“You know what…” I paused, trying to find my defiance, but it evaporated with my next sharp exhale. My heart was yearning for some peace of mind. Just for one night. “I really don’t have it in me to bicker tonight.” I waved at the bartender to pour me another shot.

Ben raised his giant hand along with mine, signaling for the bartender to make that two. “Wow. A woman keeping quiet,” he praised sourly, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Wow. A man being sexist. How original,” I shot back. So much for peace. Ben could lure my fire back to the surface like no one else. I had to give him that.

Instead of lashing out at me, he just cocked his head and chuckled. He seemed oddly satisfied with my response. “Atta girl.”

“Ben… You can leave,” I huffed, eyeing him over my shoulder after pushing my key into the lock. “You didn’t have to walk me all the way home.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? That’s what a man does.” When I stepped into my apartment, Ben squeezed himself through the narrow doorframe and passed me in the tight hallway. It only took him a few steps to take in the entire view of my small living space. He let out a low whistle as he looked around. “This is where you live?”

“Yeah.” I shut the door and joined him in the living room. With sarcasm running through my veins, I raised my arms and feigned a smile. “Welcome to my humble home.”

“This is…” His freckle-stained nose wrinkled. “A fucking disgrace.”

“That’s one way to put it.” When his disappointed frown turned to face me, I snapped, “I’m working on it, okay?”

He nodded his head at Lily’s bedroom. “Your sister home?” The door war closed, so I had no clue how the hell he could tell it was her room.

“No.” I shook my head, reaching for the whiskey bottle on one of the bookshelves in the living room. “I wouldn’t leave her by herself.”

He scoffed and planted himself in front of the window, staring down at the colorless yard of the apartment complex. “What is she, three years old? Nobody gave a shit about my whereabouts when I was her age.”

My brows knitted. “Are we really gonna talk about how we grew up?”, I asked with a joking undertone, but I was secretly dreading that kind of conversation.

Slowly, Ben turned around on his bowed legs, palms on his hips. Under the pale lights, he looked like a gigantic replica of the little superhero action figures in Lily’s room. “Oh, we’re gonna need more booze for that,” he claimed, pointing at the liquor bottle in my grasp, batting those damn eyelashes at me.

I sized him up, wondering if it was a good idea to have fucking Soldier Boy as my guest. But I was seriously starting to doubt that he was ever going to kill me. Somehow, I doubted he even had it in him. 

“Alright, fine,” I sighed out, placing the bottle on the couch table with a dull clinking sound, “Make yourself at home.”  

Ben licked his lips, pleased by my invitation. He sat down on the worn couch, grinding his jaw when he sank lower than he expected to. “You need to fucking move,” he groused like a spoiled child.

I placed a glass in front of each of us, then let myself drop onto the cushion next to him. “Do you insult the homes of all the people you visit?”

“Ha. No, I, uh…,” he trailed off, looking lost in thought, and then suddenly cleared his throat. “Never mind.” He reached out his hand and wiggled his thick fingers, silently telling me to turn over the booze.

With my heart sinking in an odd way, I concluded that not a lot of people invited him to their homes and gave him the bottle. Maybe he needed the alcohol even more than I did. I waited for my turn while he poured himself a generous shot.

“You ever see the Soldier Boy story?”, Ben asked, handing me the bottle, and then proceeded to swallow his shot whole.

“Are you kidding me?”, I retorted, filling my own tumbler, “They show that movie in schools to this day. A poor child from South Philly finds out he’s got magical powers to match his heart of gold.” With an exaggerated movement, I put my right hand over my heart while my left hand lifted my shot glass to my lips.

“Yeah, well… It’s a load of bullshit,” he grumbled and spilled a fresh amber pool of liquor into his tumbler.

“You mean you don’t have a heart of gold?”, I asked, feigning shock. 

The way he narrowed his eyes at me could have scared me, but it only made me smile. And I could have sworn that his mouth twitched, too.

“My father owned half the steel mills in the state,” he revealed, “I never lived in the streets, was never poor. Vought made all that shit up.”

I nodded to myself. The man that I’d admired growing up was nothing more than a false myth. A bedtime story. Instead of being a true hero, he really was the spoiled child he came off as. “Well… I can’t say that I’m surprised,” I muttered, “It seems all Vought cares about is profit.”

“They’re gonna do the same fucking thing to you,” he said, his bitter face meeting mine, “They’re probably gonna invent some kind of… sob story to raise your popularity. If our love story ain’t enough, that is. You should up your fucking game on that one.”

“Love story, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see that one comin’,” he taunted, his lips curling into a half-grin. “To be popular, you need to either be loved or hated. Vought is starting to consider the American Sweetheart narrative for you. That’s what The Legend’s hopin’ for, anyway.”

I chewed on my lower lip, staring at nothing in particular, mind draped in floating thoughts. Maybe there was someone to support me, to root for me, after all. Maybe I could really pull it all off somehow. Become one of the greater supes. And it was fucking Soldier Boy, of all people, who was pushing me over the edge toward ambition. 

“If the Soldier Boy story is nothing but a bunch of lies… Then what’s your real story?”, I inquired.

He huffed and downed yet another shot. With a hiss, he slammed the tumbler onto the couch table. “My father sent me to boarding school. Bein’ away from home was… the best damn time of my life.” His body froze like a perfect painting, emerald eyes turning glassy. It was only after he cleared his throat that he continued, “I got kicked out of boarding school ‘cause I was a fuck-up. So… Back home, it was. Father said I was a disappointment. That I didn’t deserve to carry his name.” Another pause. Another far-away look in his face. “That didn’t change when I became a fucking superhero.”

I tried catching his eye, but failed due to the pain he was trying to hide away. “How did you become a supe?”

“Went to my father’s golf buddies in the war department,” he scoffed, “Got injected with some blue substance, and voilà, Soldier Boy was born. I became the strongest fucking man alive, and… it still wasn’t good enough for my old man.” When he finally looked up, he’d blinked away the salty shimmers, but there were still golden specks of sorrow in those green orbs. “I hate to break it to you, princess, but none of us are born superheroes.”

“I know.”

He arched his eyebrows at my reply.

“My dad, he…” My chest expanded and shrunk as I recalled how my father had told me about the drug I’d been given as a baby. “He told me about Compound V. When I was eleven, I think.”

“Your old man still around?”

“No.”

“Was he good to you?”, Ben wondered casually, but the way he studied my face told me he was indeed curious.

“Yeah.” The corners of my lips bent upward as I remembered some happier moments of my childhood. “My father… He loved my powers. But he loved me more.” My eyes started to burn with tears, the air started to hurt in my lungs, and I tried to keep myself under control. “Sometimes, when my mother put me on yet another diet, he would slip me candy bars and money for proper food.” 

While I spoke, Ben was just observing me. Not mocking me, not moving in any way, surprisingly just waiting.

“My mother, she…,” I went on, “Ugh, she wanted a perfect little Miss Superhero. Dragged me to all the pageants. When I think back, I can still smell the goddamn hairspray and hear the mothers yell at their daughters. I never lived up to my mom’s expectations. I was never talented enough, polite enough, or pretty enough.”

He hummed quietly to himself, and I wasn’t sure anymore if he was caught up in my story or his own.

My lips sagged as I continued, “So, I got frustrated and just… Started working against her. I got into fights, started taking drugs, shoplifted. She loved my powers. But she hated me.” My gaze dropped to my wildly fidgeting fingers, and I cracked my knuckles in an attempt to self-soothe. “She made sure I knew I was a fuck-up. She would turn in her grave if she could see that I’m the one raising Lily now.”

Ben sighed through his pursed mouth and raised his glass to me. “To fucked-up parenting.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and bumped my glass against his. “To fucked-up parenting.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, we were wired to the fucking gills,” Ben chuckled, comfortably buzzed. His cheeks wore a freckled tinge of red, and he’d taken off his gloves.

“Holy shit!”, I cried out and downed the light brown liquid in my glass once more. 

Though, let’s be honest, I should’ve stopped drinking quite a while ago. My mind was foggy, yet excited, and my body felt drowsy. Don’t get me wrong, I was a fun drunk. But also a reckless one. I made bad decisions if I crossed that line from tipsy to wasted. And I hadn’t just tiptoed along that line, like I’d told myself I would. I had crossed it with a powerful somersault to the deep end.

“You disappointed?”, he questioned, examining my flushed face.

“What?”, I mumbled, turning to fully face him, sitting cross-legged on the couch, the shoes missing from my feet.

He cocked his head and said, “They say never meet your fucking idols for a reason.”

“Who said you were my idol?”, I babbled, close to laughing again. Why was everything so funny when I was drunk?

Ben raised one of his eyebrows at me, his head moving backward in surprise, creating half a double chin on his upper throat. 

I paused for a second and realized just how close we were sitting to each other. Even offended, he was gorgeous. On the outside, at least.

“Alright, fine. I used to have a poster of you,” I confessed through a tiny embarrassed fit of laughter. Blame it on the whiskey. It made me chatty.

“Ha! For real?”, he exclaimed, a genuine gleam of interest flashing through his eyes.

“Yeah… It was a rare one, too. Aaall my friends were jealous.” Having lost my sensitivity for personal space, I leaned forward a little too far, leaving only a few inches of alcohol breaths between us. “My green wallpaper really brought out the color of your eyes.”

His gaze fell to my mouth. It was just a tiny, soft movement, but its impact on the atmosphere was harsh like the slap of a whip. “You ever touched yourself to the thought of me?”, he questioned, then sunk his teeth into his plump lip.

“You have no shame, do you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The corner of his mouth pulled up, lining his face with a drowsy half-smirk. He tilted his face so that he could look directly into my eyes. “I’ve certainly beat my meat thinkin’ ‘bout that pretty little cunt of yours.”

His raspy tone shot a hot shiver down my body. The sparks even reached the tips of my fucking toes. I dragged my tongue along my lower lip. His hungry gaze followed the pink muscle. “You have?”  

Blunt fingertips met my cheekbone with the softest of touches. They skimmed along my skin with great care, latching on to some rogue strands of hair to place them behind my ear.  “Ever since I had you in my fucking trailer, I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” his captivating voice admitted, urging me to believe him.

Oh boy, charm-alert. I was a weak woman. Longing to be held, even more so when I was intoxicated. And there was a well-built, handsome man sitting on my couch, making advances at me.

When I got up, the alcohol swirled around in my system, and I stumbled a little.

“Whoa, princess, you’re fucking wasted, aren’t you?” His hands steadied me by my hips as I climbed onto his lap. Amusement overtook his face. “Maybe it’s time for a little nap.”

“You wanna come to bed with me?”, I whispered against his bearded cheek.

His gravelly, honey-coated chuckles touched my very core. Then suddenly, he hauled me up along with him, holding me up by the backs of my thighs. My legs wound around his middle as he carried me to my bedroom. I pressed my lips to his neck to stop more drunk giggles from coming out.

Tag list: @akshi8278 @leigh70 @impalaslytherin @mimzy1994 @asgardiandeadpoetsociety​ @panhufflestugf @spnwoman​ @themerc-with-a-mouth​ @waynes-multiverse​ @tzillas​ @josephslittlemetalballs​ @deliriouslybi​ @ryethebrokengae​ @epiphany-of-a-madwoman​ @rach5ive​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @may85​ @jassackles​ @mimaria420​ @calsjack @gingersass​ @madigabiab @tmb510​ 

[bestworstcase]

rotating salem’s songs in my mind again

both polemics against ozma’s deception and manipulation of other people—not salem, others—“show them gods and deities/blind and keep the people on their knees,” “what if all the plans you made/were not worth the price they paid…”

“it was you who ended their lives/made them to dig their own graves/with your dark, sick, cruel design/convinced them their world could be saved/have you no shame?/signing them up for your war/trained them to fight what they can’t beat/your sins are what they’ll pay for” <- this hits even harder after v9 but also like. ‘what they can’t beat’ isn’t salem it’s the abstract idea of division it’s disunity it’s all the bad things ozpin personifies in salem.

‘divide’ isn’t a song about ozpin sending canon fodder after salem it’s about the mandate. with your dark sick cruel design, you convinced them their world could be saved. your sins are what they’ll pay for. the world of remnant cannot be saved redemption is a game mankind cannot win both salem and ozma know this. and if ozma ever summoned the gods… he disobeyed light just as she did. he was told not to seek salem out, but he did. he loves her. the god of light does not forgive. your sins are what they’ll pay for.

but the second half of the song. the second half…

sacrifice them for your needs slaughter is coming the end drawing near you’ll regret your deeds legends and fairytales scattered in time maidens and kingdoms wrapped up in a lie these children you mislead you’ll watch them all bleed strength will not bring victory

<- these verses explicitly describe ozpin’s actions. sacrifice them for your needs, these children you mislead. you’ll regret your deeds.

this is followed by:

divide them tear them apart sever their trust it will strangle their hearts inside them plant seeds of doubt hope will be smothered they’ll turn on each other hatred will sprout suspicion and doubt friendships deny while allegiances die

sacrifice them for your needs. divide them. inside them, plant seeds of doubt. these verbs are in the imperative mood and the first is addressed explicitly to “you,” i.e., ozpin. ‘sacrifice’ also uses the imperative mood this way: “take the lives of those you need/sow the death and reap the seed,” “show them gods and deities/blind and keep the people on their knees/pierce the sky, escape your fate.”

it’s all about ozpin’s deeds. sacrifice them for your needs, these children you mislead, divide them, tear them apart, sever their trust, inside them plant seeds of doubt, this is salem’s perception of what ozpin does. (and she’s not wrong: the rampant dysfunction and distrust in ozpin’s inner circle is demonstrated in v2-3. ozpin does lie, he does manipulate, he does make sacrifices.)

so

the taste will be sweet when you get what you’ve earned and i’ll watch you burn

you’ll regret your deeds -> recitation of his deeds and their consequences (it will strangle their hearts, hope will be smothered, they’ll turn on each other, hatred will sprout, friendships will be denied, allegiances will die) -> you’ll get what you’ve earned and i’ll watch you burn

and salem watches the broadcast with a smile on her face as ruby reveals his conspiracy to the world.

pierce the sky, escape your fate/the more you try, the more you’ll just breed hate/and lies/truth will rise/revealed by mirrored eyes.

“take leonardo; he was one of ozpin’s most trusted, and now… hmmm. :)”

“hm. her again :)”

salem has been savoring the thought of what it will do to ozpin when he finds out summer is alive and a turncoat for fourteen years now like it’s a fine wine. that summer helped orchestrate the fall of beacon. his silver-eyed paragon of heroic virtue.

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! Can I request a rivalry between rise! Leo and Donnie?

Oof... they have the same yandere type so good luck- Aged up like all my fics

Yandere! ROTTMNT! Leonardo vs Donatello

Short Concept

Pairing: Rivalry - Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Rivalry, Fighting, Competition, Jealousy, Forced affection, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Childish behavior, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Overprotective behavior, Stalking mention.

These two share the clingy, overly affectionate, and manipulative traits with each other.

Which means, competition... oh so much competition.

They both get rather impulsive towards you and are easily jealous.

Sharing your attention is out of the question.

Leonardo feels he's entitled to your attention, willing to lie and fight to keep it on him.

He's one for the spotlight and is extremely competitive.

Especially if he's fighting with one of his brothers for your attention.

Then there's Donatello, bratty like Leo but much softer in the emotion department.

He plays himself up, using tech to impress you and gain your eyes on him.

Although he is still manipulative, clingy, and dramatic.

Even worse is they both can get so delusional about you.

They feel one of them is your favorite.

End of story.

It's a common sight for Raphael and Michelangelo to see Leonardo and Donatello start an argument.

Usually starts with something small, like what you did with them one day.

Then one tries to one up the other....

Now they're full out fighting because their beliefs of being your favorite are threatened.

You barely have time to breathe alone.

They try to impress you constantly.

It quickly gets annoying when you're dragged by either of them.

Both enjoy video games with you, but then there's a fight over which game or which turtle plays with you.

It's not new that they're both competitive.

It's just... it's always about you once they are fully into their obsession.

They'd both stalk you they'd both cling to you, they both want praise from you...

While you just wish you could be alone and away from them for once.

You can't even hang out with Raph or Mikey without them staring.

They'd watch from a distance, away from each other obviously-

Or they'd be very close to you while you're with someone else.

They're both your best friends, all of them are, although they're convinced only one of them are.

Donatello thinks he's the best choice due to his tech and intelligence.

Who else could protect you like he could?

Meanwhile Leonardo mocks Donatello, saying he could protect you with just a few waves of his weapon due to his portals.

A lot of the rivalry is bickering and petty competition.

To get them to work together again requires you or their brothers to snap them out of it.

You could say you care for them both the same...

Then they're still going to try to win your approval, just to feel special to you.

These two are relentless.

Attention is a drug to them that only you can give them.

If you don't, they'll force it.

Things like laying in your lap, forcing you to sit by them, surprise hugs....

Leonardo may be the most affectionate due to Donatello being more reserved with physical affection, although Donatello will boost his affection if you prefer it.

Keeping them behaved requires you to pay attention and not ignore them.

Although... when they fight so often now, you wonder if they'll ever get along again with you in their life.

At some point you will have to choose which is truly your favorite...

It'll either work out by then... or get worse.

It's a risk you're willing to take, right?

"Come on, (Y/N)? I gotta be your favorite! I've been training and I could take you anywhere with my portals!"

"Do you really think (Y/N) would be impressed with that? I have JETPACKS I tested that could take us anywhere! My tech is so much better than those portals of yours."

"It is not!"

"Yes it is, dude."

"Show me, then."

"Gladly. Come on, (Y/N). You're the judge here."

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hi!! can you write an rafe x routledge!reader with a lot of angst? like the reader is trying to manipulate rafe in order to gain her trust, and somehow rafe is falling for her (and her lies) (nothing violent).

Thank you!!

I love this, it was a bit hard to understand the phrasing of the request so I did my best! I hope you like it 😌

"Yes, Sarah, I heard you-" I start but she cuts me off with a loud huff across the line and I can hear JJ, Pope, Kie and John B yelling at each other in the background, presumably about this whole ordeal.

"You need to just talk to him- he already has feelings for you so it won't be hard for him to listen to you. Just please be careful." Sarah advises and I feel the knot in my stomach only grow tighter and tighter as I approach the Cameron house. "You're a Routledge, surely you can lie." I can imagine Rafe sitting inside, minding his own business, having no clue what's to come.

"I really don't want to do this to him." I whisper into the line, frustrated tears lining my lashline at the thought of actually doing what they want me to do, pulling a manipulative side of me that I never want to have to use against someone, not even Rafe.

"He's not even human, Y/n, just do it and get out of there." She hangs up before I can say anything else and I huff, shoving my phone into my pocket before rapping my fist against the large door. Moments later, I hear the thumping of footsteps rumbling down the stairs, presumably and hopefully Rafe and a second later, the door opens.

He looks at me with wide eyes, a subtle red blush slipping across his pale cheeks as I give him a small smile. He pauses, lips parting but no words come out, just genuine shock written across his face.

"Hey Rafe, could I come in?" I ask, hugging my arms around myself and his brows pull together, neck craning so he can look back into the house before down at me with a soft look.

"Uh, yeah- sure." His hand reaches out to rest on my lower back, guiding me into his house as I look around. It's changed a lot since I've been here. "What's up- I'm kind of busy." He asks, leading me over to the livingroom so I can sit and I feel my whole plan, all the words I planned just vanishing from my brain.

"Sarah's hiding something from me, so is the whole group, and I was just wondering if you knew anything about it." The words come out in a panic, the lie completely half assed, and for a moment I expect Rafe to see through it but he doesn't.

"What do you think it's about?" He asks, visibly uncomfortable at the topic but I know that this is necessary for me to ask, for me to pry this information out of him. Even though it's completely against everything I've stood for.

"Something they're trying to find but whatever it is, it's big enough to not tell me." I pout, looking down at my hands that rest in my lap and I can feel Rafe's sorry eyes watching me. "I'm just feeling sort of left out and shitty."

"I'm sorry." Rafe mutters, reaching over to place a hand on mine which sends goosebumps up my arms and through my spine. "I, uh, I do know what it's about. I'm just not exactly at liberty to talk about it." He frowns sadly at me and I nod, sort of relieved that he didn't tell me so I can go back to the group and say he didn't cooperate. "You almost don't wanna know." He chuckles sheepishly and he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Oh." I frown with a deep, dramatic sigh. "Okay."

"Look, I'm sorry. It's for your own good. I don't want you to get in any trouble or get hurt-"

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." I cut him off, reaching over to take his hands in mine which forces his gaze to meet mine, his blue orbs deep with uncertainty. "Your sister sent me, they wanted me to get information about the cross from you and I can't do that to you." Tears immediately fill my eyes as his fast twists in discomfort and he nearly throws my hands off of him as he rises to his feet.

"What the fuck- Sarah sent you?" He bellows, head tilting calculatedly at me and I bury my face in my hands, wishing I hadn't done this or listened to any of them.

"Rafe, I'm sorry-"

"Do you even care about me, Routledge?" He gasps and takes a hefty step away from me as if being so close to me physically hurts him. "Or are you just like everyone else who just uses me and then blames me for their own shit?" I shake my head immediately, stepping up to him with a desperate look in my eyes and I fist my hands beneath my chin.

"Rafe, I told her I couldn't do it- that I couldn't do it to you." I say sternly, trying to get him to look at me but he just avoids my every advance, finally squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he can as he fists his hair between his fingertips. "They're just desperate and thought because of your feelings that-"

"That you could manipulate me." He deadpans, eyes opening suddenly as his mood switches from something sad to something sour, jaw tensing and I begin to feel worry and dread swim through my brain.

"I couldn't go through with it. I wouldn't." I reach out to him, trying to take his hand in mine but he shoves my advance away with a pained look in his eyes, a lone tear sliding down his cheek and I can practically feel his heart breaking from feet away.

"I think you should leave." He says before I can say anything else and I feel myself shaking my head, lips parting as his name escapes me in a breathy, pathetic whimper.

"Rafe-"

"Leave!" He shouts and I jump, hands shaking at my sides and all I want to do is fall to my knees and beg for his forgiveness. I hate myself for using his trust against him, my own heart breaking as I break his.

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