#they were very clear to tell me there's a good chance these treatments will fix my bloods but might not help my symptoms

[pochapal]

they should invent an anemia treatment with measurable physical effects that also doesn't kill you (difficulty impossible)

[bp--builders]

Cannabis 21 - Hoquiam Dispensary

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The identity of the cardholder must remain hidden at all times. No matter what happens, this will stay put. Such high hopes are fostered right from the start. It seems like the prophecy is actually happening. Thanks to this new point of view, the method for solving problems is improved. This assessment must be brief.

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It was instantly clear that our service zone had accidentally grown to include more cities than were necessary. There are a number of individuals that are watching things closely. Something will happen as a result of this task being completed. Once the event is over, you will have access to all of the recordings. Two of Washington's most picturesque vacation locations are Hoquiam and Ocean Shores. It encompasses Ocean Shores as well. Included in this collection of communities is Ocean Shores as well. This is the only chance you'll ever get to visit Ocean Shores. Ocean Shores seems to be the ideal beach town at first look. An unforgettable vacation awaits you in Ocean Shores. The closeness of the two sites implies a connection between the occurrence and the following therapy. This is therefore true despite the fact that separate administrations are presently in charge of these two territories. You will get the expected outcome if you add these two domains to the list. We can easily track their whereabouts thanks to their schedules.

[twistedmusings]

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

[cinnamonest]

I am loving all these "Bitter Albedo getting revenge and doing as he wants with the reader"— but also, equally as bitter Creator! Reader growing resentful towards Albedo and wanting to do to him what he's done to her, or even _worse_. Anything to take him out of her life, so she half bakes a plan to "finetune" later, first starting off by building up some trust to get on Albedo's good side, she "gives in", plays nice and gets to work on alchemy with him.

She follows this routine, playing the loving glorified "housepet". But all the while, she's been fine-tuning her escape plan. It would either put him in an equal disadvantage to him, or it might kill her. At this point, either outcome would be mercy. She tells him there's still things from the Art of Khemia she hadn't taught him.

Things she'd learned in her travels while experimenting, not long after they'd gone their separate ways.

It starts out with gathering ingredients for tamer recipes, and just like she'd promised

New techniques, new creations and new knowledge was gained.

She makes him believe that she's adapting to his existence, maybe even tolerating him, but he didn't expect for her to only grow more and more bitter as time went on. The only thing growing in her heart was the resentment she harbored for him, any sort of admiration or genuine adoration she held for her creation all but crushed. She wanted nothing of him ever again, he had gone too far, miscalculated even, in his theory that reluctant "love" would follow his treatment.

Over the course of a few weeks, she has him carefully wrapped around his finger, unknown to him that she would show him just how much mercy she showed him when she sent him his own separate way. He was suspicious at first, of course, but in his moment of weakness, in his need for the approval she had been "showering" him in, he pushes the thoughts aside when he sees that her claims seem to be "valid enough".

He follows her instructions, and each time he gains new information on old, or even lost, techniques. Raging from little things she'd kept to herself so that he wouldn't have to interact with him when they worked together, To combinations only a mad woman who's challenged nature would dare think up.

and one day, she's telling him that she thinks he's ready to try the last thing she had managed to research on her own. He mixes the ingredients according to her instructions, everything seems to be going fine until he adds the last thing— and it's immediately reacted in a messy blast.

Albedo finds himself blinded by the fallout, as well as finding a surprising lack of digits on where his hands should be. His ears are ringing, obviously, such a blast would deafen anyone.

It's the creator's way of getting her own vengeance for the position he's put her in, at least this way, maybe, _maybe_, she can have a chance to finally put her failed created behind her. After all, he was always her most _disappointing_ creation.

AHHHHHH anon that took me aback at the last bit I was not expecting that. Poor little thing, how could master be so cruel...?

After the obvious resulting chaos (and agony), he'd be quiet for a long time. He ties you to the bed with what's left of his hands, having to use his mouth to tie the knot, and... leaves. Usually he's good about leaving you food when he goes out for the day, but not this time. He doesn't say a word as he leaves, even if you call out to him.

And he's gone for several days. You're starving, but even when he comes back, he doesn't say a word at first. Doesn't acknowledge your presence, no matter how many times you call out to him. It goes on like that for hours until eventually, without prompting, after you've given up calling for him, he just simply states a few thoughts.

He was... too kind. He understands that now. You didn't deserve it. You didn't appreciate it properly. So now, you will earn your way back to the way things were.

For starters, he takes the legs off at the scar. No real reason other than to hurt you. To see your horror when you fully wake up, pain, having to adjust. He pulls the same shit where he makes you beg for anesthetic and painkiller, but it's infinitely more painful this time. He keeps you just a little bit awake for the whole thing, even if you beg enough to be given some anesthetic during the procedure.

And after that, he stops talking to you. For good.

He himself is learning to adjust, having been given a prosthetics for fingers (literally Fullmetal Alchemist lmao) that he can make do with. You can learn how to adjust, too. Having *no* legs is actually different than just having numb ones, and learning to live without them is harder than you thought it would be -- your center of gravity and sense of balance changes, you have to avoid certain positions or risk a sharp shooting pain, etc. But even when you stumble and fall, and call out for help... nothing happens. You have to fix it on your own, or, if stuck too far to move, wait until he comes by up to hours later and silently sets you upright. If you call out in what sounds like high distress, he might come running over to make sure you're not in immediate danger, but after looking you up and down and ascertaining you're just uncomfortable and/or stuck, he slowly turns back, deciding he'll help you when he feels like it later.

You don't eat together anymore. He feeds you in a bowl on the ground. The first time, you turn your nose up and fold your arms in disgust... even though you haven't eaten the entire time he was gone. You're just that stubborn. No matter. Eventually, you cave, maybe the second day, maybe the third or fourth. He doesn't say anything the whole time, just takes the food when you make it clear you won't eat it, and puts it out each night, until you give in.

You sleep on the floor. Chained by the neck to the bedpost. You understand the message without needing to be asked out loud. You hated him so much, didn't you? You'd much rather be on the cold, hard floor than in bed, since he's in it, wouldn't you? Since you hate him so much?

And still, he doesn't talk. Somehow, that hurts the most. He was never very talkative, but he'd comment every now and then, ask you for your thoughts on something, but he now acts like you're not even there. No matter how many times you call out to him, he acts like he doesn't hear it.

It goes on like that for a month or so until you finally break down. Latch onto his leg and sob and plead. You feel like you're going insane, you say. You just want him to acknowledge you exist again.

...But why should he, he asks? It's the first thing he's said to you since the leg removal. He won't turn his head or eyes to look at you. What does he get from talking to you? You were so mean. For the few months leading up to the incident, you were so, so, so mean. He tried to be nice and get you adjusted, and you fought him every step (well... not that you were taking many literal steps) of the way. Remember? You were mean from the moment you woke up then. And then, when you were finally nice -- when he trusted you -- you went and did what you did. What reason does he have to acknowledge you? You'll either be mean to him or plot against him again. And that's all he's willing to say.

A few more weeks. A few more breakdowns. You know the intention -- he wants to truly, completely break you in a way that he never could when he was showing you any kindness. And, you hate it, but it's working. You find yourself begging. Sobbing. Rocking back and forth and clinging to his legs. Utterly pathetic, pitiful, humiliating displays of neediness and weakness. It breaks you down until he finally deems you complete, and one day finally makes eye contact with you for the first time in months.

There's not much left of "you" per se, though. The nasty attitude you had back before is almost completely gone. You're finally happy when he talks to you -- something that, after so many months of going insane from silence, you consider a privilege. After so many breakdowns and humiliation, you don't have much pride left to get in the way of begging, no shame about anything you do. It's perfect.

Not that it doesn't come back, sometimes. Sometimes, when you're having good days, you get a bit too comfortable, you forget what a privilege it is to be like this together, and you almost get mean again. But it's fairly easy to shut down with a very specific look that shuts you up immediately.

Oh, and he finds a way to fix himself, in the end. Being an artificial creation, he has a different compositional makeup than a person, so there are... ways to adjust and repair the body he has. In fact, he might even find one that would work on even an organic human, a miracle regenerative formula.

Not that he'd give it to you. But he makes sure to tell you all about it, showing off just how perfectly it regenerated his hands... just to see the look on your face.

[littleoddwriter]

Hi can I request a zsasz mask x male reader where reader gets in a argument with victor and roman and reader just gets tired of their bull so he goes to get ready for his match (readers a boxer) and it's a big match for him. After being mad for a bit they go to the match and see that reader is injured really badly but keeps fighting anyway cause he's going to win no matter what.

Match | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz x Male!Reader | ZsaszMask x Male!Reader

I am so sorry it took me this long! I hope you're still interested in it and enjoy what I've done with your request! Again, I apologise for taking so long.

summary; See above.

notes; TW // Open Wounds; Blood; Fights. Brief Mention of Sex in the end. Polyamorous/-sexual relationship; Declarations of Love.

Fuming, your blood boiling under your skin, and shaking with the force of your anger and the effort of holding it back, you got ready to go out for your boxing match in an hour. You clenched your jaw, almost painfully so, as you zipped up your bag. Then you practically stomped out of your room and the penthouse, slamming the door behind yourself.

Fucking Roman and Victor.

While you got fully dressed and prepared for your match, you thought about what had gotten you so angry in the first place.

It was a stupid fight with Sionis and Zsasz.

All you did was bring to their attention that they could at least try to pay more attention to you as well, and actually show you that they liked you, that they liked having you around.

Roman flew off the handle right after it had left your lips, which wasn’t surprising, but it didn’t help your situation and only agitated you. So you yelled right back at him. Victor, always so fucking protective of Roman, got a bit physical, grabbing your wrist in a bruising tight grip glaring at you and telling you off in his deep, gravelly voice. You weren’t scared of him, though.

So you just twisted your arm out of his tight grip and shoved him, yelling at both of them now that this was exactly what you meant. They were always an item, even in a fight; they ganged up on you, instead of including and actually talking to you, instead of looking for a solution and being open for suggestions.

In a way, you wished you hadn’t brought it up at all, but it needed to be said, no matter what. You were unhappy with the way things were at the moment and you didn’t just want to break up with them over it. You loved them after all. You just wished they’d show you they loved you, too. And now you might have just ruined all chances of that. Fuck, they were probably packing your things while you were here, and throwing you out the moment you’d get back.

“Y/N, you’re up in 10,” your coach told you and you nodded.

Taking a few deep breaths, you shook your head to clear it of the fight. The match was more important now. You couldn’t let something like this ruin your chances of winning, although the anger that was still thrumming through your body might help you.

All the while, Roman and Victor have stayed home. Sionis had been blinded by rage after he’s heard you leave. He was screaming and trashing things.

Zsasz could just barely get through to him at all, breathing a quiet sigh of relief, when he finally did, holding onto Roman’s wrists and seeking intense eye contact with him, so he could bring him back to the real world, the here and now.

Breathing heavily, Roman’s face was still set in a deep scowl, frowning, his eyes piercing with anger, yet still a little glazed over from how overwhelming it was.

“Do you think he’s right, Victor?” he asked eventually, his voice broken and raw, abused from all his screaming.

“Maybe,” Zsasz conceded. He hated to think that anyone but Roman and he himself could ever be right, but he had to admit that they may have neglected you a little bit.

“Fuck.” It was weak, but carried all of Roman’s frustration nonetheless.

“We need to make it up to him. Where did he go anyway?” he continued after a short moment.

“Match. Big one tonight, remember?”

“Right, of course. Why the fuck couldn’t he have chosen any other fucking day to bring this up?”

Zsasz just shrugged, not knowing a good answer to that. While he knew Sionis better than he knew himself, Victor still struggled to get on that level with you, too.

“Whatever. Get dressed. We’re going to that match and make it up to him afterwards, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

When they arrived and got into the front row (thank fuck for their connections and having people naturally fear them, so that they made way), you have already been far into your match. Both of them took in the sight of you in your element.

As Roman got a better look at your front, though, he immediately grabbed onto Victor’s arm, tightly. “What the fuck?!” he muttered.

You were bleeding out of your mouth and a pretty big gash on your forehead. It was a lot of blood, too. He wondered if you had even noticed it, or if you were just too focused on winning that you didn’t take in anything but your opponent anymore. It has happened before.

“He’s going to get fucking killed if he keeps going,” Roman hissed.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s tough, you know that.”

Sionis shot Victor a piercing glare. “Yeah, and everyone has a limit, even you and me. Especially he, though! Fuck!” His grip on Zsasz’s arm only tightened, sure to leave a bruise.

“It’s not his time yet, I promise.” With that, Roman loosened his hold just slightly. He knew Victor wouldn’t ever lie to him, and he also knew that he had a very well working intuition for these things, so he believed him.

For all it was worth, Sionis knew he couldn’t stop it, anyway. You were too stubborn and determined to win; you would fight until you truly dropped dead if you had to.

Fortunately for him, another right hook from you had your opponent fall back to the ground, and not getting back up within the required 10 seconds.

You had won.

Booming loud cheers erupted around the facility. Victor and Roman cheered for you, too, while relief washed over Sionis in waves.

After a couple of minutes you were led away by your coach, back to the locker rooms. You sat down on the bench, pressing a clean towel to the gash on your forehead.

“You really need to stop doing that, Y/N,” your coach chided you.

“Yeah, yeah, next time,” you muttered.

“You’ve said that the last five times already. Get a grip on yourself, or else you can look for a different coach. I don’t want your blood on my hands, son.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t worry. I promise it won’t happen again. Okay?”

“Fine–,” your coach probably wanted to say something else, but was interrupted by Roman and Victor coming into the room.

Wait, what the fuck were they doing here anyway?

“What the fuck,” you greeted them.

“We should be the ones saying that, Y/N,” Roman replied, frowning.

You desperately wanted to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows that had deepened significantly with his frown.

Fuck. No, you were mad at them!

“I suppose I’ll leave you alone then,” your coach said and walked out. He knew when Victor and Roman were with you, he needed to be gone.

Your eyes were fixed on Roman as he walked over and sat down next to you on the bench. Then you looked over to Zsasz, who retrieved the first aid kit from your locker and started getting out supplies to sew your wound closed.

“I thought you’d kick me out,” you near whispered in disbelief.

“What? Fuck, no!” Sionis said, looking as offended as he sounded.

Victor then sat down on your other side where your wound was and gently, yet firmly, grasped your hand and pried out the towel from your grip. Silently, he got to work, disinfecting the skin around the gash, picking out the sterilised tools and thread. Promptly, he started closing up the gash with practiced ease.

It did have some advantages to have someone like him as your boyfriend, you mused.

“Look, uh, I’m sorry for the fight. I should have known better than to- I don’t know. Bring that shit up. I knew it’d upset you.” Now that all your anger was gone, washed away by the sheer presence and treatment you were just receiving from them, you really felt a little stupid and apologetic for it all.

“It’s not your fault. You were right. We didn’t pay you enough attention and you were right to talk about it with us. Or try to, anyway. My bad for exploding like that.” Roman took one of your hands in both of his. Despite the tape and boxing gloves, your knuckles were bruised. He stroked over them with his leather-clad thumb.

“Will you promise me to change it?” you asked then, quietly, cautiously, as if afraid to destroy this dream-like moment.

“I promise to at least try, ‘kay? Is that fair enough for you?”

“Yeah, I guess. And you, Victor?”

Snipping the thread and unpacking a big band-aid to put that over the suture, Zsasz nodded. “Sure, I’ll try. Promise.” He smiled at you, crookedly, his two golden teeth glinting in the fluorescent lights of the locker room.

“Alright then,” you breathed, smiling at them both. “Thank you.”

Instead of answering, they both leaned in and kissed either of your cheeks.

“I love you guys. So much,” you chuckled.

Then you first turned to Victor and kissed him on the lips, passionately, but briefly. After that you did the same with Roman.

“We love you, too,” they said simultaneously, making all three of you laugh. It was a magical moment, really. And in the back of your head, you were a little rattled at them admitting they loved you. It was the first time they had ever uttered these words to you.

The fight between you completely forgotten now, you were only eager to get back home, shower and have make-up sex with them. Maybe even both at the same time, you smiled to yourself.

[legolaslovely]

Generous

A/N: The Kíli smut is here and the head-hopping is fixed! If anyone has any advice about avoiding that/noticing it happening before the piece is done, please tell me! Also, please friends, **read the warnings.** This might not be for everyone so please stay away if it’s not your jam.

Pairing: Kíli x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,671

Warnings: Modern AU, smut, toys, anal play

--

He woke you with his hands.

It wasn’t unusual for him to find you in the night and wrap himself around you in sleep. In the hours before dawn, the bed would transform into a den of tangled limbs that featured two bodies congealing into one. He’d hold you to his chest, nose buried so deeply in your hair, it was as if your closeness transcended him past the need to breathe.

Then he’d wake. Always before you, ever the hunter, eternally energized. He very rarely waited for you and only sometimes watched you dream. Most mornings, he’d slide out of bed to make the coffee or pick up something special for breakfast. His morning routine never included the same steps twice, but it was a routine in that he never overslept. It wasn’t his way.

Still, more often than you’d admit to another soul, Kíli would wake you up in more… creative ways. Ways that left you satisfied for the entire day, but always thinking of him and always wanting more.

This was one of those days.

***

His tender touch down your sides, over your hips and under your arms very slowly lifted you from sleep. With your eyes closed and your lips tilted into a smile, you leaned back into him, allowing him more access to your belly and chest. His hands were refreshing- cool against your sleep-warm skin.

       “Morning, my love,” you said.

       “Good morning.” He kissed your shoulder. “Tell me. Are you, by any chance, feeling generous this morning?”

       “To you? I supposed I could be.”

His hand surfed up your side to give your breast a squeeze. “You’ll do something for me, then?”

       “Anything you want.” The options were swirling through your mind and something even more exciting was pressing into your backside.

       “Open your legs for me, baby.”

He wouldn’t allow you to fall onto your back or open yourself completely to him. He only closed his fingers gently around your knee and lifted it into the air until he could play with your warm core.

Then there was a buzz that just about sent you to the ceiling.

       “Relax,” he chuckled, giving your neck a reassuring nudge with his nose. A small vibrator, this size of his thick thumb that so often found its way to your clit, was tucked between your folds as it buzzed in a deliciously stimulating pattern. Then you were told to close your legs. You did what you were told.

       “Good girl,” he rumbled. “Feel good? Or too much?” He caressed away the new tension in your limbs and belly.

       “Good.” You clasped your thighs together, sending the intense vibrations exactly where you wanted them. “Really good.”

He followed your lead, cupping you and pressing his fingers up into you to make the sensations even stronger. “And you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much?”

       “Yes.”

From there, he let you enjoy it. You were free to wriggle around, circling your hips and grinding into the little toy for brief, quaking flirtations while his fingers roamed over your body. He brushed your hair away from your face and neck so his lips could explore and his teeth could spur you on. 

Still, it was his hands that did the heavy lifting. In the competition of giving you the most pleasure, his rough palms and strong fingers rivaled even the vibrator that rocked against your core. He thumbed at your breasts, rubbing the nipples that grew from smooth valleys, to hills, and then to pointed, pink peaks. After thoroughly kneading the surrounding landscape, he moved south to your bottom, pushing and pulling at the globes there. He spread your cheeks, and like a thief, slid his middle finger between your folds to gather your wetness and bring it back closer to him. Your slick coated his finger as he circled your puckered hole with enough pressure to leave you whining his name.

       “Kíli, please. I need more.”

He rubbed harder as your juices pooled around your holes. “More than this?”

       “Yes.”

You were past the point of teasing. You needed constant pressure. You needed-

You reached behind your back and took his erection in your hand, giving it a few long, yet tight strokes. The flesh was hot and rigid and wet of its own accord- dripping with precome.

       “Kíli,” you whined, guiding him to you.

       “Ah, ah, ah,” he admonished as if you were a child with a handful of sweets before supper, instead of his lover with a handful of his hard cock. “Not yet, my love. Hands to yourself now.”

But he defied his own rules. His arms surrounded you, pulling you back into his chest, even further into his overheated body- into soft, furry skin over hard muscle. A hand slid down your back and guided his member between your legs. As he thrust forward, his lipped head pushed past your gushing folds and pressed the toy up into your clit, sending the shared sensations into his own sensitive tip as well. 

He jerked away from it, pulling his erection backwards until his entire shaft was free from the hot encasement of your soft legs. 

       “Still don’t want my hands?” you asked, teasing him, guessing the vibrations were too much for him.

But Kíli never gave up a game very easily.

His only answer was a groan in your ear as he thrust forward again, partaking in the pleasure of the toy and your shared arousal.

       “Fuck, baby,” he said at the squelching sound his movement made. “This thing’s got you wet.”

       “Your fault too.”

He gave a proud hum. It was the same sound he made when Dwalin commented on his hand whittled arrow stuck straight in the bullseye, or when Thorin set a heavy hand on his shoulder after an afternoon in the forge. It made frequent appearances in bed as well, after a much deserved song of praise.

His palpable pride sent a rush of possessiveness through you, even while you were so lost in his ministrations and so close to your finish. Your hands clenched around his arms like iron shackles, barring him to you as he continued to thrust against your shining skin. Each time he drew back, you could feel strings of your slick tying the raven curls above his cock to your backside. It made your mind wander to the exploration of his fingers earlier in your tryst.

You wanted him to return there, to the uncharted territory. Reaching back to release his hand from its grip on your hip, you moved his fingers between your legs once more. You asked for it.

He immediately found your soaked asshole once again and stroked it for you.

       “You like this?” he asked. The little hole winked at him as he touched it, squeezing hard each time his cock head pushed the vibrator closer to your clit. “This feel good?”

You moaned your confirmation, arching your back and pushing into his hand. 

You couldn’t see him behind you, but it was clear to you that he must have contorted himself to pleasure you like this- stimulating this new pleasure point and driving through your thighs to help the vibrator between your folds. The things he did for you, to make you feel good. He’d stop at nothing. It made your hips stutter and your mind whirl, drifting off into a lustful cloud of What was he thinking? Did he like it, did he want this too?

You guessed he did. His knees wobbled against the backs of your legs, shaking from the intensity as he pressed his long, thick finger against the wet rim of your hole until it fell inside. A hiss escaped him then and your mind raced. Did he feel the same desire? The urge to stretch you? You certainly felt that. It sent a jolt through your gut and into your core.

       “Yes, Kíli, please,”

He cursed- loud and short and almost unrecognizable- as his next finger massaged your hole. You knew he’d pulled away to watch his own movement there, and it gave him the leverage to thrust past your thighs and up into your folds with more vigor. The pressure of the vibrations was even more consistent, which pushed you further and further towards the edge. 

Kíli, however, was gone. Between these new discoveries and the confinement of your thighs around his sensitive cock, he lost himself in pleasure. He held tight to your hips, clutching your softness into his own searing skin as he came over your thighs with those addictive, deep grunts you were sure only Kíli could make so delicious.

After yanking himself away from overexertion, he replaced his hot cock with his hand to provide the backboard for you to press yourself against and grind on the vibrator.

       “Come for me, baby,” Kíli said to you. He pressed his own spunk into your skin as you rubbed against him. “Fuck.”

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to travel upwards from your toes. As you pushed against Kíli’s come filled palm, leaving tracks in the bed sheets with your nails, you groaned his name and came on the toy, on his hands, and in his arms. He took perfect care of you, helping you ride out your high and moving the vibrator off of your clit just in time before it could painfully overstimulate you.

You sighed deeply when he relieved you of the intense vibrations. After rolling close to him, your hand found his cheek in a caress brimming with a sweetness that rivaled the rough treatment that same hand had given the sheets just a moment ago.

He kissed you. “You’re feeling very generous today, hm?” he asked.

       “As I said, my love. Anything you want.”

A smile spread over his face. Wide, cheeky, and wolfish. “Well, then. We have some new things to try.” 

He dove to your neck, placing light, tickling kisses all over your skin and leaving you squealing laughing into his wild hair.

--

@emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @teagarages @dreams-of-wander  @tumblinglringlring @fxngsfogxarty​ @specialagentsnark​  @karlthecat15722​ @sagabriar​ @marymegger​ @aidan-kili-mitchell-forever​  @cassiabaggins​ @guardianofrivendell​ @lathalea​ @dark-angel-is-back @c-s-stars

[bookofmirth]

If you have the time/energy I would love to hear more of your thoughts about Az's persona! He's such an interesting character to me, and I feel like most of the theories I see about him centre around elain, and how his behaviour is mate behaviour (the double bond thing). Personally I think azriel has a lot of anger, isnt very open with his friends, and also feels like he has to be the one to fix everything (this comes out with elain but also all his relationships).

Can I just start this off by saying “what the fuck” at the double/true/created bond thing. I’ve seen some WILD shit out there in the fandom, wild. 

I have been writing and deleting and copy/pasting etc. this post forever and I can’t decide how to approach it, so I hope this makes sense! I didn’t pull out a ton of quotes because tbh it’s a lot of work and I’ve read these books???? So many times. And this is tumblr, not comprehensive exams.

I would agree with your characterization of Azriel! 

Anger - this comes out in really inappropriate times, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns his anger around on himself. We all know that Rhys described his “icy rage”, and later on his “cruel competitiveness”.

Lack of communication - yeah, when has he had a heart-to-heart with anyone in this series? When he does, it’s not about making himself feel better, or sharing his own feelings. It’s to be of service to someone else. All the IC have described trying to reach out to him in their own ways, and not being successful.

Needing to fix things - yes! I see this as his need to be of service. He’s always the first one to jump into work. It took Mor hundreds of years to get him to go to Rita’s, right? He’s a workaholic in a world with no labor laws. He always wants to be the one in charge of gathering intel, of finding people, or fixing problems. I think this is closely tied to two things: his lack of self-worth, and his anger. If he can stay busy enough and work hard enough, he can prove his worth to other people, if not to himself. This is why he loses it when Rhys or Feyre tell him that he can’t handle something. 

Funny thing, but people who have followed my blog since early 2017 know that I shipped moriel hardcore. I just loved it. I wrote so much meta and fanfic. A lot of the arguments that I see now remind me a lot of arguments people used to make about moriel - and it makes sense! Az’s behavior around both Mor and Elain are eerily similar. So I thought I’d compare his behavior towards them because that can tell us about his character!

To me, his treatment of Elain (and Mor) comes down to two things:

What his mother and Mor suffered (and he was unable to prevent), and

His lack of self-worth due to abuse 

Azriel and Mor didn’t know one another very long before she slept with Cassian and was left brutalized by her family. This happened when they were all in their late teens, which is not long after Azriel was tortured by his brothers, rarely let outside, and rarely got to see his mother. At the same time that Azriel sees his mother treated so poorly, he then feels intense guilt and rage at what happens to Mor. It’s enough to make him overreact in the future, any time that Mor (or another female) is in danger. So here are a bunch of examples of him being overprotective of Mor and Elain. But mostly Mor.

In acomaf, Azriel has the audacity to tell Mor no, that she can’t go to the human lands (chapter 41)

“I fought in the War, you will do well to remember-”

“No,” Azriel said again, refusing to break her stare. His shifting wings rasped against the back of his chair. “The would string you up and make an example of you.”

At the end of acomaf he is still highly protective of Mor

Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.”

Mor looked at Azriel - and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn’t stop moving until she again kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed-but covered her bloody fingers with his own.

Then in acowar, of course, he explodes at the High Lord meeting after Eris says that Mor dresses like a slut:

Azriel stopped.

Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened. As Azriel turned his face towards me-

The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot. 

But beneath it, I could almost see the image that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys.

And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking.

And of course in acowar Azriel goes with Feyre to rescue Elain. This ties together all of his issues with Mor and his mother. IMHO, Azriel sees Elain as a second chance. He saves Elain in a way he failed to save Mor, and so he begins to transfer his need to protect and serve onto her.

Azriel’s refusal to let Mor assist in dangerous situations is similar to how he says no, Elain cannot help.

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

*Note that it’s an “outright sign of temper” - not an outright sign of protectiveness, or caring, or concern, or worry. 

If being protective of another character is “mate behavior” or sign of a mating bond, then Azriel and Mor would be mated. There is far more evidence of him being overprotective of her than of Elain. So while we know that mates are protective (naturally!), Azriel’s protective tendencies are coming from something else - a combination of his failures to protect his mother and Mor.

In acofas, what Cassian jokes is Az being a stickler for manners in forcing everyone to wait for Elain, Rhys explains as being related to Azriel’s mother - not Elain or Cassian.

Rhys took a bite, gesturing with his knife for me to eat. Let’s just say it hit a little close to home. At my beat of confusion, he added, There are some scars when it comes to how his mother was treated. Many scars.

Again, it seems all well and good that Az was thinking about being polite, but Rhys tells us that it’s because of Azriel’s mommy issues! Which are understandable and important, but a clear example of Azriel trying to make up for poor treatment in one woman by overreacting around another.

In the acosf POV, when Az questions why he wasn’t mated with Elain (and he can smell bonds so wouldn’t he smell his own?) it’s not so much about Elain as the fact that he feels he did everything right this time. He saved the damsel. He was of service. Elain is safe and healthy and she seems much more amenable than Mor ever has. So what did he do wrong? This is the source of his anger, combined with his loneliness and desire for a shiny lovely mating bond of his own. 

When we think about Azriel’s motivations, it comes down to service and self-worth. He sees his main value or purpose as saving others from harm, and when he was barely into adulthood he failed in that duty for the two most important women in his life. Hence his need to overcompensate around Mor, and now Elain.

[flowerfan2]

This fic would not let me go to sleep until I wrote it.  A follow up to today’s Ted Lasso episode, 2x11.

More Than A Comment.  Read on A03.

About an hour so after Trent gets back the “no comment” text from Ted his phone rings.

“Off the record?” Ted spits out.

“Yes,” Trent replies, the sick knot in his stomach tightening at the sound of Ted’s voice.

“You can’t tell me this.”

“Tell you what?”  Trent lowers himself to a chair in the kitchen, one elbow leaning on the table, the other clutched around his phone.

“That it was - him - you can’t tell me who your source was.  You aren’t allowed to tell me that.  I might not know much about journalism, but don’t folks go to jail and such for revealing their sources?”

Trent wishes the practice were that formal, at least then he’d know what type of sentence he is facing.  “No, Ted.  Journos go to jail to protect their sources, when they are being pressured to reveal them.”

“Still - how could you tell me this?”  Ted’s voice is strained, and Trent can imagine the look on his face.  It’s bad enough that he had to write an article revealing Ted’s secret, now he’s lost his respect as well for his lack of ethics.

“I had to.”

“But won’t it ruin your reputation if it gets out that you revealed your source after promising that he would remain anonymous?”

Trent sighs.  “I suppose.  Or it will just enhance it, you never can tell.”  He never should have let his editor promise Nate anonymity.  He should have pushed back harder.

“You don’t really mean that - this is gonna get you in trouble.”

It’s not as straightforward as Ted seems to think.  Trent strongly doubts Nate will sue him for breach of contract, not when keeping Nate’s betrayal in the public eye will hurt Nate as much or more than everyone else involved.  And if he does, well, Trent knows some good lawyers.  What it will do is cause any source he’s promised anonymity to in the past to dry up, and make it harder to cultivate new ones.   But no matter what happens, there will still be people like Nate out there, willing to take a chance and betray their friends to Trent in hopes of bettering their own position in life.  

“I just don’t understand why you told me,” Ted goes on, working himself up further.  “And what am I supposed to do with this juicy piece of gossip, huh?  What do I do now?  Confront Nate?  Then he’ll tell the world you told me, and off we go, more misery for everyone.”

“I’m sorry, Ted,” Trent says, because he is, and he isn’t sure what else he can say at this point.  “I admit that when I imagined how angry you would be about my message to you, I hadn’t thought that you’d be quite so focused on the effect it would have on <i>my</i> reputation.”

“Oh.  Fair point.”  There’s a pause, and a sigh, and Trent imagines that Ted has just flopped onto his couch.  It certainly seems like he’s settling down.  “I read the article.”

Trent’s stomach clenches, brought back to reality again. “You did?”

“Mmm.”

“What did you, um, think?”

Ted takes his time answering, leaving Trent hanging precariously.  “It’s very well written.”

“Yes.”  If Trent was going to stab Ted Lasso in the back, at least no one could say he dangled any participles in the process.

“So humble.”  Ted clears his throat.  “But, um, it really wasn’t so bad.  What you said.”

“Having a panic attack isn’t a personal failing, Ted,” Trent says.  

“Feels like it sometimes,” Ted says bitterly.

“I know.”

“But what you wrote about anxiety and depression being more common that people realize among athletes and celebrities and such, that, um, that was good.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“And the part about recognizing the signs, and how to get help.  I was right glad to read that.  People need to hear it.”

“Thank you.”

“Not that I’m gonna say thanks for writing the article or anything,” Ted says quickly.  “Paints me in a pretty bad light.  For not telling, I mean.”  There’s a pause.  “For lying.  I don’t much like the feeling of being judged for that.  Not that I’m saying you’re judging me.  But people who read your article will.”

“They shouldn’t,” Trent responds.  “You shouldn’t be judged for keeping that information private.  You had every right not to advertise your mental health issues.”

Trent hears Ted suck in a breath, and he hopes he hasn’t used the wrong phrase.  Or, rather, he knows it’s not the wrong phrase, but it is a sensitive one.  Understandably so, given the way the world views mental health issues.

“And you had every right to reveal my <i>mental health issues</i> to the world?”  Ted sounds like he’s trying not to cry, and it makes Trent feel like doing the same.

“It’s my job,” Trent says sadly.  “If I didn’t write it, someone else would have.  Probably not with the same treatment.  And besides that, the wellbeing of Richmond’s head coach is arguably matter of public interest.”

“So why the blazes did you tell me it was Nate?”  Ted asks, returning to his initial question, like a dog with a bone.  Usually that’s a trait that Trent admires, but it’s not as much fun when it’s aimed at him.

Trent bites his lip and considers deflecting, but he finds he doesn’t want to.  Not anymore. “Because your wellbeing is of interest to me.  Personally.”

Ted lets out a huff.  “First you say you respect me, then you say you care about me?  While simultaneously revealing my Achilles’ heel?  Who are you, a Trojan prince?”

“It’s bewildering, I know,” Trent says.  He can hardly parse the logic himself, and he’s the one responsible. “And I’m no prince.”

“Some might disagree.”

Trent can’t tell for sure, but he thinks he hears a note of fondness in Ted’s voice.  He will never stop being surprised by this man.  It’s one of the things that’s drawn him to Ted from the beginning.  Conversations with Ted Lasso are never dull.

“What are you doing right now?”  Ted asks.  “Besides talking to me, I mean.”

“Sitting alone in my flat, feeling awful.”  Truest thing he’s said all day.

“Why don’t you come over for a drink?”

Trent feels his heart skip a beat, but doesn’t trust it.  Surely he must have misheard.  “Why should I do that?  Do you have your footballers waiting outside your place, ready to do me in?”

Ted snorts into the phone.  “No.  But I’m sitting alone in my apartment feeling awful too.  And if you came over, well, that would fix at least one of those problems.”

“Not both?” Trent asks, his traitorous heart letting the words fall out.

“Don’t want to count my chickens too soon.  Come on over and let’s find out.”

[ravenwitch45]

Will You Hold Me Tight And Not Let Go? (Part 1)

So episode seven was an emotional roller coaster and as a Stolitz shipper I decided to write a fic to cope, This is the first real fic I'm sharing here and the first I plan to have multiple parts if people like it. Am I cringey as I think or am I decent? You decide I suppose, either way I hope you enjoy

After the events at Ozzie’s, Stolas clears his intentions and feelings up and it get’s emotional.

“I-It’s not”The Prince said balling his claws up in his cape, He wished he couldn’t believe what he had just heard, but he did. It was his fault the Imp thought that and he knew it. He deserved to be left by everyone cause no matter what he seemed to hurt everyone who he cared about.

“S-Stolas… What the fuck did you say?”

He wasn’t leaving..? Well not yet...H-He needed to fix this. Even if it cost him Blitzo.

He turned back around with a sigh and toward The Assassin with a frown “Blitz, I need to tell you something, and after that you can leave, no questions asked”Stolas said noting the tired look on Blitzo’s face who looked at the prince before just looking out the front windshield again with a nod

“Okay… I am terribly sorry… for everything”Stolas said having a hard time looking at the imp he had hurt not noticing he had caught his attention again “For the calls, For the comments, and especially… for our monthly arrangement. All this time I told myself you were enjoying it all and were just acting annoyed heh heh...”Stolas stated with weak chuckle that quickly faded as he forced himself to look at the Assassin who stole his heart.

“But now it’s clear you don’t enjoy… anything about our interactions, frankly I’m not sure why you invited me out in the first place tonight but… that hardly matters right now.”Stolas began his vice cracking, feeling tears well up before walking back up the the van and leaning down to peer through the window to at least be closer to the Imp who looked very confused but didn’t say anything

His silence concerned the Prince to be honest, but it at least made this easier to get out “I was desperate, I never had romantic feelings for my own wife and I know Octavia will likely leave me soon, Everyone who ever brought light into my life just left me... so when I met you, I got addicted I suppose… I know nothing will ever excuse my treatment of you, but as for what I was trying to say earlier…”Stolas began before sighing

“I don’t just want you to fuck me Blitzy, I do like you for your incrediblty determined nature, the pride you have in yourself and… well I suppose what I’m trying to say is that despite you being a good shag, the fornication isn’t even half of why I wanted you, Your a pleasure to have around to just chat and talk to and I wanted that deeply”Stolas said rolling his eyes a little with a weak smile before standing back up to his full height

“Next time on the Full moon simply drop the book off with one of my staff and I’ll return it to you at the earliest convenience, You don’t even have to speak with me if you don’t want… but on the off chance you want to see me I won’t stop you…”Stolas said a little awkwardly at the end before turning around and beginning to walk away “This was lovely while it lasted Blitzy, Sorry for all the trouble…”Stolas farewelled unable to hold back a sniffle at the very end as well as some tears but as least Blitzo wouldn’t see them

He expected to just hear the van speeding away along with any chance of him not drowning his sorrows in wine tonight and likely several others following tonight but he didn’t.

He heard the van door open and slam shut. He froze not wanting to hope for anything but he wiped the tears out of his eyes before turning around finding Blitzo at the base of the stairs with his arms crossed avoiding eye contact with the Prince “Blitz… I said you could leave after I to-”Stolas began to remind “Just let me fucking talk”Blitzo interjected with a frustrated tone “Look whatever your trying to pull to get me to fuck you right now, It’s not working and it’s pretty fucking rude to do after all that happened tonight”Blitzo said bitterly and Stolas’s mouth fell open as he walked down the stairs again “Blitz I assure I’m not trying to pull anything! H-honest!”Stolas pleaded falling to his knees in front of the imp and putting his hands to his chest

“Stop fucking lying to my face! I may be an Asshole but I’m not an idiot! You're just doing… something! Messing with my head just so you can get your kinky ass off!”Blitzo insisted and the prince’s eyes were already watering too much to notice the tears at the edges of the Imp’s eyes

“Why won’t you believe me!? I would never lie to you, Blitzy!”Stolas insisted back almost pleading at this point, was he this bad? Had he treated Blitzo so badly that he truly expected this from him? That thought sent shivers up his spine “Bullshit! You hired us as bodyguards for that shitty circus when you could have pulled the exact fucking eldritch shit you did with the Humans! You didn’t need us! You never needed me!”Blitzo yelled stomping his foot as the tears just flowed from the Prince’s red eyes

He was right, It was all just a ruse to get him and Octavia to meet but it of course ended mostly badly. “And I’m sorry! I am so sorry, Blitzy! Just please tell me why you would think I would say all these things, pretend to apologize for all the trouble I caused just to trick you? Why? Please just grant me that?”Stolas begged ,his voice more cracked then pristine at this point as he was on the verge of just sobbing

“Because it doesn’t make any fucking sense! Your a fucking prince! You heard what that bastard said Dating me, which is what you're trying to make me think you want! Means giving up your daughter and that bitch of a wife! She’s awful but you clearly love that Owlet of yours so tell me. Tell me why in Hell would you give up everything for me? Why would you ever sacrifice a damn thing for me!!!”Blitzo yelled balling his hands up into fists

“Because I Love You!”Stolas yelled back not realizing until it was already out, what he did see was the utter shock on Blitzo’s face. He could see his tears now, clearly this wasn’t just emotional for him. The Imp stammered as he backed away “N-No you don’t, Y-You can’t love someone like me”Blitzo said wiping away his tears and turning away starting to walk back to the van, but Stolas had already said it, so he made it crystal clear

“You may think that but I DO love you Blitz”Stolas said his voice cracking and the Imp stopped in his tracks “I don’t care if You’ll have me, I love you and I will love you till the seven hells collapse… I want good things for you, I want you to be happy in every waking and dreaming moment of your life. And as long as the stars shine above I will do my best to make sure you are. My precious wonderful Imp.”Stolas said, making sure there was no room for interpretation and Blitzo just stood there

“Blitz I- You can still go but if you w-”Stolas said turning away for a second his usually pale face red from how many emotions went through his system in what must have been less then ten minutes, but in the second he turned away he suddenly heard the click clack of boot heels rush up to him and before he knew it a certain Imp wrapped his arms around the prince’s shoulders tightly, his claws digging into Stolas’s cape slightly as he buried his face in the fabric, his tail even wrapping around Stolas’s waist in what felt like trying to keep him close in any way possible

“B-Blitz what a-”The prince began having no idea why this was happening before he was interrupted “P-Plea-lease…?”The Imp said clearly crying barely able to form words coherently but pushed through regardless “Just let me have this…”He continued his voice muffled a little from the cape

Stolas smiled warmly before returning the embrace “Anything for you Blitz” He assured wrapping his long arms around the Imp gently but also firm to make it clear he was there.

They just stayed like that for a while, enjoying the embrace as Stolas ignored the wetness on his shoulder. It was more than worth it to have Blitzo in his arms. Eventually the cold became too much to ignore causing Blitzo to shiver as he unwrapped his arms and tail from the Prince which Stolas did as well not wanting to push it “Are you okay?”Stolas asked wanting to reach out but didn’t still not really sure what was going on

“It’s just cold, This fucking jacket doesn’t really have lineing”Blitzo explained rubbing his arms for warmth “and by the way Stolas... Thank you for that, Sorry for kinda tacklin you there, I just kinda got emotional.”Blitzo said with an awkward chuckle wiping the last of his tears away “No need to apologize, As I said, I would do anything to ease your mind my dear”Stolas said formally as he stood up but with a chuckle as well making it come off a little dorky which made a smile spread upon the Imp’s face before another gust came by and he shuddered at the cold again

“Do you want to come inside?”Stolas asked certainly not wanting Blitzo to catch a cold or something but immediately remembered what that typically meant before now when Blitzo looked up at him with something in his eyes that just made Stolas panic “O-Of course my offer of just movies or… something still stands, Even I feel a bit too tired to get intimate after all today was”Stolas rushed out with a nervous chuckle but still felt it sounded wrong for some reason he didn’t quite know

“I-... Yeah Stolas, If we can do that I’d... like that”Blitzo said awkwardly, with his crossed arms looking more like he was hugging himself at the moment and Stolas just loved how it all made his heart flutter “Of course Blitz. You are always welcome here as long as I have a say”Stolas said snapping his fingers making the doors to the palace open with his midnight blue magical aura before offering his hand to the Imp before he immediately panicked

“Oh so sorry! I still need to think before I act I suppose, Heh heh”Stolas said awkwardly blushing retracting his hand away looking into space to forget it before the hand that was closest to the ground was grabbed as he was pulled along and up the stairs to the doors by The Imp “If you want me to hold your hand, you can just ask birdbrain…”Blitzo grumbled blushing as well, though with the cold and most of his face already being red it was harder to notice but Stolas smiled anyway

“Thank you Blitz.”Stolas said gratefully nuzzling the Imp’s hand with one of his claws as they passed the doorway so he began using his magic to close it “Yeah, uh Stolas?”The Assassin began “Yes?”The Prince asked, feeling more happy in this moment then with any session they had ever had not expecting what was coming at all

“I… sorta… kinda like it, when you call me ‘Blitzy’”The assassin admitted using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck as he blushed and Stolas just nodded before actually registering what he said and his eyes went wide

His rapid questioning was cut off by the door finally closing.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed, feel free to give some constructive criticism. I really want to improve. I intend to do other parts, not sure how many yet and I have no idea when I will be able to do them but I do plan to. Have a great day!

[sugarcubetikki]

Marinette Isn’t A Mary Sue.

At least a half of her salters constantly complain about how Marinette’s a Mary Sue and use this as a reason to justify their hate of her character (Ironically, the other half keeps complaining about how her flaws are really really bad). There are a number of so-called “justifiable reasons” on why she’s a Mary Sue. And I’ll just say that I don’t agree with any of them. These reasons can range from “absolute nonsense. are you even watching the show?” to “I can see why you’d think that but you’re ignoring this aspect.” I’ll be breaking down each and every claim that I know of to tell you why exactly I disagree.

Marinette never faces the consequences of her mistakes

This is one of the reasons I downright disagree with and think is absolute nonsense. Marinette is very fallible. The show has portrayed that on multiple occasions. When she makes a mistake, she always faces the consequences and she tries to fix it. That element to her character is what makes her a great role model and it builds up majority of her character arc. I’m not sure what the salters who say this are exactly thinking, but it looks like they really need to re-watch the show. 

I’ll give you a fine example. Ikari Gozen is one of my favourite exhibits of her fixing her mistake. She judged Kagami too quick. Based on some presumptions she had on her personality, her feelings towards Adrien and her own jealousy, she judged her intentions too quick and made some really bad choices that episode by trying to sabotage her. In the first half of the episode, a lot of us were quite irritated by Marinette’s behaviour, we genuinely felt bad for Kagami. Which is quite surprising as Kagami is an over-hated character and Marinette is the popular protagonist. But no. The show painted the first half in such a manner that we’d feel sorry for Kagami and reprimand Marinette’s actions. The show itself acknowledged that Marinette was on the wrong side in that moment. That she wasn’t perfect, she was in the wrong. Until Marinette finds out that Kagami had genuine intentions, that she only wanted to be friends with her, she feels bad. She feels really bad with the way she treated her previously. And she realises that her unfriendly treatment could potentially lead to Kagami getting hurt, and yes, it did happen. Kagami did get hurt. And Marinette almost lost the chance of becoming friends with Kagami in that moment.  And she would have to live with that guilt for some time if her mother hadn’t called. When her mother called, Marinette stepped up and took the opportunity to prove to Kagami that she was a good friend. That she was sorry. And did want to be friends with her. She made a mistake, faces the consequences and steps up to fix them. The way her relationship with Kagami changes in the course of episodes is a really good example that tells us Marinette is fallible.

Marinette has way too many talents and achievements 

Okay. This one is somewhat reasonable and I can see where people are coming from here. However, I still don’t think it accounts for her being a Mary Sue. Here’s why. In Miraculous World, not going to lie, everyone is pretty talented, they’ve all made crazy achievements. Do I need to list now? 

Alya runs a famous blog: The Ladyblog. She even earned an interview with Nadia Chamack. Nino is a DJ. He appeared on a show and won! Marc and Nathaniel write/illustrate and publish comics! Ivan, Luka, Juleka and Rose are in a band: Kitty Section. They played live on TV! Adrien’s a teen model, multilingual, pianist, has great physical skills due to fencing and basketball. Even Lila has decent modelling skills, she works for Gabriel now. Kagami is an excellent fencer. That comes from the idea that she’s from a prestigious family world-renowned for fencing. Marinette is pretty close with Jagged because she designed his #1 album for him. Also, she won the contest for Gabriel and was recognised by Audrey Bourgeois. Max literally built a super-intelligent robot with emotions and everything. 

So, what does that mean? They’re all Mary Sues and Gary Stu’s. No! We need to remind ourselves that this a kids show and there’s the aspect of encouraging kids to believe in working on their own talents, so they’re encouraged to do anything and push ahead for their dreams. Plus, it doesn’t portray that their talents come naturally, it shows that they work for them and developed these talents through practice. 

Clumsiness and stuttering are Mary Sue traits

First of all, not every character that has these traits is a Mary Sue. It always depends on how these traits are represented. Her stuttering isn’t just there for no reason. It’s meant to display her difficulty with expressing her own feelings. We’ve had episodes with Marinette saying how it’s difficult for her to say what she feels. Episodes! And it isn’t just a meaningless detail. It represents her fear. Her fear of rejection. Her fear of being in a relationship and things going wrong. Her fear of many things. Her fear is the reason why she hesitates. Why she stutters. And it tells us that fear is completely natural. Fear in love is something that’s natural.  

I'm so tired of not being able to just tell him how I feel! But I'm so scared, Tikki, always so scared he'll reject me.

What if he tells me that he loves me? Or that he doesn't love me? Or that he likes me, but not in that way -

Yeah. Don’t you dare tell me that this fear isn’t depicted in the show. It’s blatantly obvious.

As for her clumsiness, it represents her nervousness. It comes in the form of her fear to mess up. She’s clumsy when she’s nervous. And thus she’s afraid she can mess up due to that clumsiness and nervousness. In the Origins, her insecurity, her nervousness was all displayed in the form of her clumsiness, and she knows she displays her nervousness through clumsiness And she was afraid that her clumsiness could mess things up. That’s why she believed she was disaster-prone. And incapable of being a superhero. Because she was nervous and scared. 

She gets too much screen-time

This one I really don’t get. How is having more screen time making her a Mary Sue? She’s the main protagonist. Of course, she’s going to get a lot of screen-time. Her endearing personality and active lifestyle molds the storyline of the show. She’s easy to follow along. If you’re comparing her to Adrien, I’ll say that...Adrien’s a mysterious and sheltered character. Giving him too much screen-time can get boring because he’s stuck at home all the time. We can focus on his family mystery but if the show does it too much, it ruins the mystery aspect of it. I adore Adrien getting screen-time with episodes focused around him too but I’m not going to expect him to get as much as screen-time as Marinette because his character is different, and him getting as much screen-time as her doesn’t work for the style and demographic. And claiming that she’s Mary Sue because of more screen-time is stupidity.

Encouraged jealousy and despising other girls around her crush is a Mary Sue quality

Firstly, the show never encourages Marinette’s jealousy. It doesn’t encourage it. Plus, she’s not jealous in every situation. Only in specific situation when she thinks there’s something off about the person like Chloe and Lila. In Volpina, Marinette had realised she had gone overboard with calling out Lila. And she did face consequences for it. Her akumatization. And she did try to fix her mistake in the end by apologising for overreacting. Lila was the one who turned her away that time. As for Kagami, her jealousy arc changed based on her attitudes about Kagami. During Frozer, she wasn’t jealous per say, upset but not jealous. Frozer made Marinette and Kagami misunderstand each other, that’s why they’re quite petty towards one and other for the next few episodes. In Animaestro, I don’t think Marinette would’ve been that petty if it weren’t for Chloe. But yeah, that episode isn’t one of her best moments. I’m not a fan of it either. In Ikari Gozen, these misunderstandings were cleared and so were the issues from Animaestro, and it’s fine now. On a overall, I don’t believe Marinette would get jealous around everyone. At least, not in a way where she would try to stop them from getting close to Adrien all the time. It depends on the person and situation. 

---

In conclusion, Marinette isn’t a Mary Sue. She’s fallible, has flaws, fears and works for her achievements. And that’s on point. 

[ask-rp-devra]

With things in order the pair moved out of the barn, into the cold breeze that began to pick up through the morning. Val tagged along by peach’s side as per usual. They wound their way towards Greys home from home, a water type area, and the treatment plant for the drinking water on the island. You could just make it out down the road.

“don’t feel like you have to take them, but I suppose it saves us finding another place to rehome him...”

She shrugged as they walked, enjoying the view of the island. “I know. But it still won’t hurt getting to know the little one. You never know! We might just hit it off.”

Peach knew the Pokemon pretty well, and quite frankly it was difficult not to love him. They came to a halt outside the water treatment building, inside you could see Professor grey talking to a visiting trainer, busy with work.

“‘let’s try the side door.” The woman waved to Devra to follow her, round the side to a slightly overgrown entrance. You had to step on thorny vines and dodge nettles as you went but it was otherwise easy to get to.

Devra carefully stepped over the thorns as best she could, trying to keep from getting scratched. “I didn’t even know there was a side door. Guys you guys don’t use it too often with all the brambles.”

“‘we put it in for busy days, and it counts as a fire exit, though I’ll have to come back to clear the area a bit, this isn’t up to code.” She was annoyed it had slipped her off her plate, but she would get it fixed quickly. The growth was only one seasons worth, so nothing unmanageable. “‘I guess with grey using the big double doors, most of the time we don’t have to slink around the side.

The room beyond the door was a little small, it looked like a break room come kitchen, with a slender staircase up to one side, and a door at the back that from the layout you could tell lead into the main room with the pool and big doors at each end. Peach began to climb the staircase, coming up to a reasonably long space, a few plants, a desk, some chairs, and a large sleeping houndoom, monitoring several puppy Pokemon. Two growlithe, one darker in colour, a lillipup with a bright blue bow, a couple of poochyena, one striped a little at its legs, an electrike, and a Pokemon not a lot of trainers would have seen before. It’s body was stocky like a houdour, with the bright cream mane and fur of growlithe, a sweet looking hybrid of a momma arcanine, and the houndoom dad that guarded them all, one of Professor Greys older team mates, and a part of the household in the evenings. Peach gave a whistle and the lot came over to say hello.

Devra gasped excitedly when she saw the pack of puppy Pokémon. She knelt down right away and was soon swarmed by the little ones. She never got tired of dog Pokémon, being one of her favorite group of Pokémon for their use in herding. “Oh my gosh look at all of you!” She gave everyone attention in turn, then came to the hybrid. “Is this who you wanted me to see?” She squished her own cheeks as see looked the pup over. “He’s adorable!”

The messy ball of cream and black fur was a people Pokemon, he saw his chance to be adored and took it, jumping into Devra’s lap with a very playful expression.

“eeeeyup, he’s the runt of our last litter, a real character though, even if he is a little small at the moment. You can look after him leading up to the trip if you like, get to know him a bit. You two might like to travel together during the Tundra trip.”

Devra busied herself ruffling his fur and smushing his face as Peach talked. “Oh my gosh I’d love to get to know him! Just look at this sweet boy!” She looked up at the Professor as she pressed her cheek to the pup’s. “Does he have a name?”

He was lapping up the attention, some of the other Pokemon joining in with play. The older houndoom sat beside Peach overseeing the little ones, keeping them from getting out of hand with little huffs and looks.

“nope, he’s not got a name yet, we never got round to picking one.”

She flopped back onto the floor, always ready to be swarmed by puppies. “Well we’ll just have to fix that. Every big strong Pokémon needs a good name. Makes me feel special. Isn’t that right big guy?” She ruffled his cheek fur as she was licked in the ear by the lillipup.

“‘maybe time together will present you with an adequate name, there’s no rush to find one for him, can change them whenever you like now days.” The pups swarmed then dispatched to play with toys, leaving the hybrid behind with Devra where she sat.

Devra laughed as they went off, giving the little guy a good chin scratch. “I love him Peach. Will Grey be okay with me watching him?” She looked over at the houndoom and smiled. “I hope dad is okay with it too.”

“he was up here with the others because these lot were lol going to be potentially rehomed tomorrow. If you take him, it won’t make much difference, no one had a reserve or anything on the little guy. And as for dad?” She looked to the big guy who was quite old now, had had many pups, and was quite happy to see them go, he liked his peace and quiet when not out with his trainer. “‘Nah, this ones good, he’s Grey’s loyal bud, he doesn’t have a lot of time for child rearing most of the time, he’s only really here because he’s a good child minder.” The woman laughed a bit, that old fleabag of a houndoom was always lolloping around the house, making an excellent door stop or foot rest.

“we trust you’ll look after them, there’s not too much between them and growlithe, so you should be just fine care wise.”

Devra grinned as she hugged the little guy tight. She then got up and went over to the houndoom, kneeling down to be on eye level with him. “I promise I’ll take good care of your pup.” She then got up and turned to the little one, opening her arms and calling him over. He barked happily and leapt into her arms. She had a few more words with Peach before making her way back to her little world on the island.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6

Chapter 7

You should have asked Billy to stop. The logical part of you knew fucking him in some dirty alleyway was wrong. You deserved better than this, even if he didn’t think so, but when his mouth was on yours and ravaging you, and you were filled with so much anger that you wanted to scream – well, it dulled the sane part of you. Your body was desperate for release and you simply gave into your baser instincts.

You ripped his leather jacket off while he did the same with your coat. You bit his bottom lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth as he braced you uncomfortably against the jagged wall. There was nothing remotely tender or loving about this moment as he pulled your underwear down and hiked up your skirt to your waist. Knee propped against the wall, he balanced you atop his leg. You rubbed yourself on his thigh, groaning at the arousing feel of his rough jeans on your pussy.  The moans you cried out were swallowed by his demanding mouth, his fingers bruising your hips as he held you steady.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out, pumping him quickly before he forcibly removed your hand from his. His fingers slipped inside your mouth and you licked them with your tongue, your teeth nipping his skin. You were so wet already, grinding down on him, but he took his fingers from your mouth and reached down to stroke your pussy, getting you ready for him. You gasped when he penetrated you slowly, taking his time so you felt every inch of him impale you. Your body shuddered, quivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you take him in. Then he began to thrust, jostling your body hard against him. Clinging to him, you bit his shoulder hard each time.

You missed him, the feel of his hands all over you when he was excited, the weight of his body pressing down on you when he was inside you, how loud and wild he was when he was fucking you.

Eyes closed, you lolled your head back against the wall and moaned loudly as he brushed your clit. The combination of his cock and fingers drove you crazy, you were lost in a haze of ecstasy when Billy lifted you higher. You winced with pain as your back scraped against the wall but he didn’t notice, focused on maneuvering your leg around his waist so he can go in deeper.

Pain and pleasure rocked through your body. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, when he suddenly gripped your chin.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His voice was tender, gentle, eyes shining bright. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His beautiful brown eyes were glazed with need, mouth slightly open. He peered up at you, his nose crinkled, with the most amazed expression on his face. Struck by an intense wave of affection, you caressed his beard and leaned forward to lick his bottom lip. A warm, wicked smile marked his lips before he pulled your lip with his teeth, playing with you.  

Hips undulating in unison, his fingers working you, you hit your orgasm within seconds and the world exploded.

As waves of pleasure surged through you, you rode them out, blissful and semi-aware of Billy still thrusting in you as he sucked the corner of your neck. He groaned loudly, his body shaking, when he finally came inside you.

Time stood still. Your body felt boneless, your mind soaring.

You were limp in his arms, probably heavy as hell, but he somehow managed to still hold you up, breath ragged at first but slowly returning to normal. He grasped the back of your head with one hand while cradling your face with the other, angling up to graze your forehead, your eyebrows, dropping gentle kisses on the top of your closed eyelids. You murmured contentedly, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness from him.  

Then you heard voices approaching and your eyes flew open. The reality of where you were hit you like a ton of bricks. Immediately you untangled yourself from Billy’s arms, pushing him away, and started righting your clothes.

Your thighs felt wet, slick with his cum. You dug through your pockets for Kleenex, something you could use to clean yourself but there wasn’t any. But Billy was prepared, of course he was. His eyes glued to your face, he retrieved tissue from his jacket pocket and started wiping your thighs. “I can do it!” you snapped, grabbing it from him. When you felt somewhat presentable again, you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

You pulled out your phone to request an Uber but he snapped it from your hand. “What are you doing? Give me my phone back!”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get home myself. I don’t need anything from you!”

“Just shut up and follow me to my car.”

The last thing you wanted was to spend more time with him but he was holding your phone hostage. You followed him grudgingly, careful to keep your distance. The car was parked nearby and upon approaching the vehicle, he held the passenger side door open for you. You knew better than to assume the chivalrous gesture was meant for you specifically. It was a thing he always did, as part of the charming image he cultivated, but whereas he usually wore a smile when he held the door open, right now he simply looked furious. You slid in; he slammed the door shut. As you buckled your seat belt, you grimaced. The same spot on your back that had scraped against the wall was now rubbing against the seat and the friction from the contact was almost painful.  

The car ride home was filled with tension. You felt his eyes on you every so often but you refused to acknowledge him, not when your mind was reeling with hurt and anger. How could you be so stupid? You were supposed to move on from him, instead you fucked him in some alleyway next to a crowded restaurant. Worse yet, there was a chance your boss may have spotted you. You may have potentially risked your career for a guy who wouldn’t even go out with you.  

Over the past year, researching him as you had, you’d come to realize he needed the finer things in life. His car, his penthouse, the clothes he wore, they were all a status symbol for him. He needed them to feel like he’d accomplished something, probably to separate himself from the kid who grew up in foster homes and had nothing. Women, obviously, played into that equation as well. Women like Dinah Madani, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, they looked great in his arms and made him feel good about himself – but you were not in the same category of women as Dinah and he treated you accordingly. She was good enough to take to the gala, to be the date he wined and dined. You were the woman he fucked in secret. Well, not exactly a secret because he fucked you on the street like you were trash. Somehow you didn’t think Dinah Madani would ever get the two-bit whore treatment from Billy.

Rage hit you again, and you scooted as far from him as possible. The movement caused the sore spot on your back to hit the chair again and you winced.

“You okay?” he asked.

You were starting to panic, taking count of everything that had gone wrong in the past hour. The man who tried to kill you was out on bail. Roger found out you had shared embarrassing info with a competitor, which may have potentially jeopardized your job. You just fucked someone without protection, someone who was known for sleeping around.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, everything was weighing down on you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You hunched over, clutching your temples, staring down at the floormat. You were struggling to breathe, your chest felt constricted.

You felt Billy rub your back, murmuring some nonsense to you, but you ignored him, instead closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths. You inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. You did it for several minutes. Soon the panic subsided and a familiar numbness took over. Your mind was clear again.

So, yeah, you were in deep shit at the moment, but it was nothing compared to what you’d gone through in the past. You were able to get out of your family’s clutches, that meant you could get through anything. You just had to be calm and formulate a plan.

Okay. Out of everything that had gone wrong, the easiest thing to fix was an unwanted pregnancy. You’d go down to the pharmacy and get Plan B. That way you didn’t have to worry about being knocked up. And then you’d make an appointment next week with the clinic to get checked out. Even though Billy was usually very careful about using a condom – except today – you had no idea how many other women he was sleeping with and you didn’t want to risk catching anything from him.

Two things down, two more things to go.

First thing when you got home, you’d call Roger. You’d reassure him that telling Billy about Adam Preston was a one-time thing and you weren’t in the habit of divulging confidential information to a competitor. You were shook up yesterday, you weren’t in your right mind, and that had resulted in a terrible error in judgement. It was never going to happen again. And Roger valued you, he appreciated all the work you did, he wouldn’t hold something so silly over you. And if he saw you fucking Billy? You cringed at the thought, but there was no point in inviting trouble. If he did catch you red-handed, well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. “There’s a pharmacy at the end of my street,” you said to Billy, without looking at him. “You can drop me off there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Adam Preston was the biggest problem you had to overcome. You’d already started looking into his family, trying to find dirt that you could use as leverage against them in case you needed to. But you remembered the look in Adam’s eyes when he’d been ready to kill you. He was unhinged and held you responsible for everything wrong in his life. There was a very good chance he couldn’t be reasoned with or blackmailed, but you were not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. No, never again. You’d spent your entire childhood that way, always wondering what inconsequential thing would set your father off. You were not going to live through that again. So, fuck Adam Preston. If he couldn’t be controlled, then he’d have to be eliminated. Simple as that. And you knew exactly who to turn to for that.

“Give me my phone,” you said to Billy, finally turning to look at him.

Dividing his attention between the road ahead and you, he shot you a confused glance. “I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“No.” You held out your hand. “My phone, Billy.”

“Why do you need to go to a pharmacy?” He cast her a quick glance. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t want to get knocked up by you. So I’m going to the pharmacy to get that taken care of. Does that answer your question?”

You noted the way his jaw clenched, but you reminded yourself not to care. You were done with Billy. You were done with feeling like shit. The first time he made you feel worthless, you could console yourself with the fact it hadn’t been your fault. Before you caught him with Dinah, you didn’t know he viewed you. Every time since then, however, was a conscious choice on your part to engage with him which meant you were solely responsible for how pathetic you felt right now. He was selfish, callous, and treated you like shit, and yet you still fucked him. That was something you had to hold yourself accountable to.

Parking his car a few feet away from the pharmacy doors, he turned off his car. His face was dark, his voice terse. “I didn’t force you to fuck me back there, babe. You wanted it as much as I did.”

You met his solemn stare. “You’re right. I did. I fucked you even though you make me feel worthless. There’s only been one other person who’s made me feel that ugly and I cut them out a long time ago - but not you, you I fuck.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “I told you about the Adam thing and what did you do? You went and threw it in my boss’s face so you can brag about Anvil. He could fire me tomorrow and I wouldn’t have any recourse because I’m the one who divulged confidential information. But you feeling smug and superior is obviously more important than me keeping my job.” You looked away from him, staring out the window. “You keep hurting me, and I just let you. For what? Because I have feelings for you? Because some part of me might love you? That’s not a good enough reason.” You shook your head. “I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy. I’m not going to let these stupid feelings ruin all that. You will not destroy me.” You felt calm, at peace with your decision. “Give me my phone.”

Your fingers made physical contact when he handed you your phone. His potent stare was affixed on you, angry, volatile, filled with emotion, but you ignored his gaze and snatched the phone away from him.

You opened the door and exited the car, heading to the pharmacy. There was a line at the counter and you took the opportunity to block Billy’s number on your phone.

It was odd. Revealing your weaknesses to Billy, making yourself vulnerable – any of those would have made you hyperventilate before. You weren’t in the habit of giving people ammunition to use against you, but you suspected it was the only way to get rid of Billy permanently. And, strangely, telling him how you felt in the car was freeing. Because, ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought, the only thing that mattered was you. And you were ready to move on.

Part 8

A/N - As always, thank you for being such a wonderful, generous audience and all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and messages you’ve left me. Trust me when I say, I’m committed to finish this story because of you :)

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

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[andypantsx3]

conspire | 1 | scheme

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Shouto Todoroki was standing outside your workroom.

This was unusual, as in the three years you’d both been attending UA, Todoroki had hardly been spotted anywhere near the support course rooms. Class H was typically avoided by anyone who didn’t want your classmate Mei to catch wind of them -- and very few hero course students had proved willing to do so, once they’d encountered her the first time.

Todoroki was one of the smart ones.

He looked incredibly out of place and yet almost comically festive in the doorway of the studio, his red and white mop of hair matching the horrible red and white heart banner someone had tacked above the entry for Valentine’s Day. He stopped midway through the door, eyes flicking over the other offensively bright decor, including several violently pink heart balloons and heinous red streamers that hung from the ceiling like sausages curing in a deli.

A ripple of interest went through the female segment of your classmates at his arrival, and despite yourself, you perked up too.

You didn’t know much about him, but Shouto Todoroki had the most interesting quirk you had ever worked with. You’d been paired for a project earlier this year where you’d helped develop an adjustment to his temperature jacket that used pattern recognition to help it anticipate changes in his quirk, in order to begin applying temperature controls sometimes even before he’d made the switch from hot to cold or vice versa.

You hadn’t spoken much on topics outside the project, but on the subject of your work, Todoroki had proved himself smart as a whip, asking insightful and probing questions, and making sensible suggestions based on what he learned from you. He’d been so keen on your ideas and so shockingly easy to work with that you’d lamented the project’s end.

It had only lasted two weeks, unfortunately, wrapping up before you’d had the chance to really delve into his personality or the actual science behind his quirk, and you’d been dying for the opportunity to pair up again and really study him since.

Less importantly, Shouto Todoroki was also inarguably the most handsome boy in your year, maybe even at all of UA. He was tall, strapped with lean muscle, and equipped with a facial symmetry that was almost more deadly than his quirk. Even his scar did nothing to deter from his good looks, only adding a roughed up, roguish charm to his otherwise pretty features. The first few days of your project, you’d had to pinch yourself on the leg more than a few times in order to reroute your brain from his face to the actual jacket.

You’d since put effort into ignoring his appearance, but you couldn’t really help that your eyes were pulled to him like a magnet whenever he stepped into a room.

Like now.

Todoroki’s own grey and blue eyes scanned over the faces of your classmates, stopping when they landed on you.

“Y/N,” he said in greeting, and you raised a bewildered hand. Several nearby girls shot you betrayed looks, like you’d been keeping an association with him secret. You’d have shot yourself something of a questioning look, too, if you could have. What reason would Shouto Todoroki have to seek you out outside of class? It had been almost a month since the project together. What might he want with you now?

“Hi, Todoroki,” you said, wondering if you’d awoken in some parallel dimension where he thought you were friends. “Uh, what brings you here?”

“I have a personal request,” he said in his low, soft tone, stepping into the room and making his way over to your worktable. He’d shed the grey blazer of the school uniform for the crisp white dress shirt and tie, and he looked unbearably good. As he drew closer, you could see the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt.

You self-consciously pushed around the messy wires and metal framing on your worktop, trying to clear space.

A personal request. Had he come for some kind of support item? Your mind suddenly ran with possibilities, and a thrill went through you at the potential to study half hot half cold in earnest. This was the kind of extracurricular project you’d been dreaming of, maybe even something that you could scope out and build as your submission for your senior project next month!

“Sure,” you said, gesturing to the other stool at your worktop and rifling around in your bag for a pen and paper. You’d probably need to take notes.

Todoroki stared at you. “Ah, not that kind of a request,” he said, eyeing your pen and paper.

Your cheer dropped. Oh.

“I had hoped to ask you in private, actually,” he said, something like discomfort flashing across his handsome features. He looked almost nervous, and you wondered wildly what kind of support request would make one of UA’s big three this awkward. Was he having a problem with his quirk that he didn’t want to cop to?

“Okay,” you said, looking up at him, “lead the way.”

A cool hand came up to grasp your wrist, tugging you out of your chair. Your face burned at the casual touch, and you felt the curious eyes of your classmates on you as you were led from the room.

Todoroki steered you through the hall and around the corner to a small alcove out of the way of student traffic. The alcove had clearly had the same treatment as your workrooms, festooned with a banner boasting a bizarre pattern of tiny All Might silhouettes interspersed with hearts. Your eyes felt like they might catch fire if you looked at it for too long.

“How have you been since the project?” you asked Todoroki, in the interest of being companionable. “Is everything on your vest still working well?”

A smile touched the corner of his mouth as he turned to face you. “It’s incredible. It still surprises me that it can predict what I’m going to do before I even think to do it.”

You flushed at the praise. “I’m glad. It was really cool work on. Your quirk is awesome - normally there are only so many variables with pattern prediction like that but the two sides of your quirk increased the possibilities exponentially, so the algorithm was hard to code. I had to get a little extra help from an actual computer scientist,” you admitted, before slapping a hand over your mouth, realizing you were rambling.

His smile widened and your traitorous eyes caught on his mouth. “You sound exactly as you did the last time we talked.”

You winced. “Yeah, sorry.”

His eyes widened and the hand on your wrist tightened. “No, I didn’t mean--it’s nice,” he said. His fingers seemed to grow the tiniest bit colder where he held you. “I would have liked to have worked with you longer.”

You tamped down on another blush, looking away. “Yeah. It’s too bad.”

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Himari Honda came wheeling around the corner.

Himari was another student you’d been paired with for a project at one time, and she hadn’t worked nearly as well with you as Todoroki had. A general course student with a quirk that let her track anyone within up to a mile of her person, Himari’s goal after graduation was to become an actress, with a particular focus on playing the love interest of powerful hero characters. She was certainly pretty enough, with large eyes, high cheekbones, and shiny pink hair that she wore in a long plait down her back, but that’s where her appeal ended. She wasn’t horrible, but she was a little too self-interested and it had certainly shown in how she’d handled your pair project.

Himari smiled winningly at Todoroki, and it became clear to you that she’d tracked him with her quirk. You knew instantly why she’d come to find him, today of all days.

“Hi, Shouto,” she purred. His fingers tightened where he still held your wrist.

“Hello,” he said politely.

You stifled a laugh at the carefully blank look he’d suddenly adopted. You guessed he’d been fending off advances of this type all day -- you’d caught sight of his shoe cubby when you’d changed into your own uniform shoes this morning, absolutely bursting with chocolate and brightly-colored valentine's notes. He was too handsome for his own good, it appeared. Still, it was interesting that Todoroki seemed not the slightest bit interested in what someone who looked like Himari had to say.

“Maybe I should go,” you said, tugging your wrist back, but Todoroki gripped you tighter.

“I still need to talk to you,” he said. He fixed you with an intense look like he could pin you in place with his gaze.

Himari seemed to ignore you. “Shouto, I was hoping to talk to you alone.”

“I’m a little occupied at the minute,” he said, gesturing to you. You gave a little wave.

Himari shot you a betrayed look like you’d beaten her to the punch, then puffed up like she was drawing up her courage. “Don’t accept her confession! Accept mine! I like you -- please go out with me!”

Your jaw dropped. You’d definitely not been in the middle of asking Todoroki out, but damn it took balls to cut another woman off like that. You couldn’t tell if you respected her or hated her for her shamelessness.

Todoroki shifted uncomfortably next to you. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I can’t accept your feelings. You see, I was just about to ask Y/N out.”

Your mind went blank.

He what now? Is that why he’d brought you to this alcove to speak to you in private? Is that why he’d been so nervous back in the support studio, asking to talk to you alone? Shouto Todoroki had wanted to ask you out?

You wondered at that. You couldn’t understand why, when he could have his pick of any girl at UA. You were fine, sure -- reasonably smart with good grades and a neat appearance, but you weren’t anywhere near his level of mind-numbing attractiveness. More than that, you didn’t even have a quirk, and it was impossible that someone who wielded a power like half hot half cold was going to wade that far into the bleak depths of the dating pool. He had plenty of other options, so why come to you...?

Then, like a slow sunrise, it dawned on you what he was actually up to.

Todoroki was trying to get rid of all the confessions in one fell swoop. If Himari went back to her classmates and told everyone what had happened, rumors would spread very quickly that Shouto Todoroki was a dead-end bet. No one would try to ask him out anymore if his heart purportedly belonged to another.

That sneaky little fuck.

“Right,” you said, perking up and playing along gamely. “And I was just about to accept,” you announced to Himari.

Todoroki threw you a wild look like he hadn’t expected you to take this track. Shit, had you been supposed to reject him instead? You could, you supposed, but what hot-blooded woman in possession of sound mind and sound body would possibly do so? Did he also want to start the rumor that you were a complete nutjob?

“Um, I mean, I was about to respond privately,” you backpedaled. “Uh, nothing confirmed at this point.”

Himari gave you a furious look, her large eyes filling with tears, and turned on her heel, storming off. Your heart went out to her, just a little.

“You’d really accept?” Todoroki asked you as soon as she’d gone. Something unreadable glinted in his two-toned gaze.

You thought for a moment. Did he actually want to do this? It was barely a couple months until graduation, but you had nothing to lose in helping him. Maybe this was also your opportunity to study his quirk more closely, if you were going to be spending more time together to keep up appearances. You might actually be able to use him for your senior project.

“Sure,” you said, smiling up at him. “If you wanted this, I mean.”

A smile curved the edges of his mouth. “I did, yes.”

“Great,” you said, “Then you’re officially my boyfriend, Todoroki.”

His smile widened. “It’s Shouto.”

You looked at him in question.

“My name, it’s Shouto,” he said. “I’d like it if you would call me that.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. This was all pretend but damn it was cute anyway. “Shouto,” you tested it out, liking the sound of it in your mouth.

Shouto seemed to like it too, unwinding his fingers from your wrist to slip his hand into yours. The cool of his fingers between yours was soothing, and you quite liked the way it felt.

“Are you free Saturday, then, for a first date?” he asked.

He did nothing by halves, huh? You laughed. “Yes, I’m free. Text me the time and place?”

He agreed and you traded phones, plugging in each other’s numbers. Then he walked you back to your workroom and left you with promises to see you Saturday, after sending you a characteristically straightforward this is shouto text to confirm.

You smiled as you watched him leave, pleased to be in on his little scheme.

You’d never fake dated anyone before so you didn’t really know what you were getting into, but you thought this could be fun. You were looking forward to whatever Shouto had up his sleeve.

[peaceisadirtyword]

First Time (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Don’t hate me please! I’m back, and I'm giving you permission to insult me! I kind of deserve it... Well, I tried to work on many things these weeks but this one was the first one I finished. It’s not very good and I wanted to rewrite it but I really wanted to post something as I felt bad for making you wait, so here you go! I really hope that you like it and that you can forgive me... Enjoy!

Thank you for your request dear anon💞 I hope you like it!🥰

Warnings: (very mild) smut, dub-con, a bit of violence and mentions of slavery, and... Ivar lol. And my bad writing I'm so sorry. 

Words: 

gif belongs to @whenimaunicorn​

gif is mine🥰

The rest of the slaves didn't like you. 

They weren't mean to you or anything like that, but they ignored you, you usually ate all alone in the kitchens, and slept away from the other slaves. You didn't do anything to them, at least not directly, but you could understand why they glared at you whenever you entered the kitchens a bit late. 

Queen Aslaug had bought you not so long ago, after you were sold to a slave trader when your old master died. The man was a Swedish earl, married and that only had daughters and that had been really good to you. He always protected you and you always had food, clothes and a place to sleep, which was a privilege for a slave. When he died, his wife -who couldn't stand you- sold you to the slave trader that took you to Kattegat. Queen Aslaug had bought you the same day you arrived, and it had been terrifying, as you had never served royalty. 

But then the Ragnarssons entered your life. You had heard stories about the Great Ragnar Lothbrok but barely heard anything about his sons, you heard about Björn Ironside, and that he had had a son whose legs didn't work, and another son that had the shape of the dragon Fafnir on his eye.

Surprisingly, they were welcoming and gentle with you. You soon understood why, though, when you caught them scanning your body, only to smirk softly when they reached your face. 

The eldest, Ubbe, was the first one that approached you, when you were feeding the chickens one morning. He was nice to you, and had brought a piece of bread for you, saying that he had to hide it from his brother. It made you laugh softly. Then he kissed you and pushed you inside the small wooden stable. He laid down and pushed you over him. Obviously, you couldn't say no, but you actually wanted to. There was a lot of slaves that had been forced by their masters, but Ubbe never forced you. You enjoyed it, he was sweet and treated you well. He even asked for your name. 

Prince Hvitserk was even less subtle, he managed to convince you to go with him to the beach. It was there where he leant in to kiss you. He was a really good kisser, and you melted right away. It had been probably the best fuck of your life, he used his tongue before fucking you. And he still had that teasing smile on his lips when you were finished. 

Prince Sigurd was more shy than his older brothers, he had been staring at you for days, shooting you small smiles and touched your hand softly when you poured more ale on his cup. But he eventually came to you, he touched you as if he thought you were made of glass, he was gentle and held your hand, focusing in your pleasure. 

The special treatment that the princes had with you didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the slaves, even Queen Aslaug realized it, and soon learnt that her sons were more likely to behave themselves when you were around. 

But you never imagined that Prince Ivar would be interested in you. He scared you in some way, but you were also intrigued by him. He was so handsome you couldn't help but stare at him when you had the chance, but he never showed any kind of interest on any woman, at least that you knew. The other slaves were afraid of him, they told you he had killed another boy when he was just a child. 

So when Ubbe approached you one day, kissing your cheek softly and asking you to come and sleep with his little brother, you thought he was mocking you. 

Ivar wants you, it's the first time he's with a woman, so he was a bit nervous, but he likes you. 

After a couple of minutes, you accepted. It wasn't like you could say no, maybe Ubbe wouldn't force you but you were just a slave and you had to do everything you were told to survive. 

Hvitserk took you to their hunting cabin. They had prepared the place with candles, food and clean furs on the bed. It was obvious that they cared for their little brother and wanted for his first time to be something nice. 

Ubbe brought Ivar. He didn't look at you, his cheeks were already red and his eyes were fixed on the floor. Ubbe had smiled at him warmly before nodding at you and taking his brothers out of the cabin. As soon as you were alone with Ivar, you approached him. 

Suddenly, all the fears you could have had disappeared. He looked like a nervous child, looking everywhere but to you, his beautiful eyes didn't look at you until you kneeled in front of him. 

You grabbed his face and kissed his lips softly. Ivar's lips moved clumsily and you felt his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. It was probably his first kiss, so you tried to move your lips slowly. 

"Don't be scared, it's okay" you smiled softly at him. Ivar nodded, forcing a small smile that only lasted a second "We don't have to do anything you don't want to" 

He cleared his throat softly and nodded, not saying a word. You stood up and licked your lips as he stared at you with widened eyes, but as soon as you started unlacing your dress, he looked away again, gulping nervously. 

"Do you want me to turn around so you can undress?" You asked softly. Ivar didn't answer, but you turned around anyway, waiting until you heard him getting under the blankets. Then you took your dress off before turning around and approaching the bed again, Ivar's eyes were fixed on his lap, and his hands gripped the blanket that covered him so hard his own arms were trembling. 

You grabbed the blanket softly, biting your lip. 

"I need to get in" you smiled. You understood him, you had been even more nervous during your first time. 

Ivar let go of the blanket. You put it away, and your lips parted when you saw his legs. You'd lie if you said you weren't impressed when you saw all the scars and bruises, but immediately looked back to him, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring at his legs. He clenched his jaw and looked annoyed, but didn't stop you when you straddled his lap, leaning down to kiss him again. This time he kissed you back more intensely, he looked a bit more confident, maybe. It was a slow kiss, it made your stomach flutter and suddenly you were as shy as him. His brothers barely wasted time kissing you, and when they did, it was quick, hard and rushed. Ivar kissed you back so softly that you couldn't help but smile against his lips. 

His muscles tensed under your fingertips as you caressed his chest softly, but when you reached his member, he wasn't hard. You frowned a bit and broke the kiss. Ivar realized it and clenched his jaw again. You saw the panic on his eyes just before he grabbed your waist and forced you to lay on the bed, crawling over you with a grunt. You gasped in surprise, widening your eyes at him. The look on his eyes scared you. 

"Ivar, I..." 

"Don't" he growled. It was the first time he spoke to you, and his tone made you tremble softly. He frowned, and touched himself again, blinking when he realized it wouldn't get hard. Then he forced your legs open, and thrusted into you without a warning. You moaned in pain, grabbing his arm to beg him to stop. 

Ivar frowned in confusion. Those weren't the sounds you did with his brothers. He didn't feel the intense pleasure his brothers always talked about. Something was wrong. You were supposed to moan in pleasure, not sob under him, you weren't enjoying it. 

He finally let you go, laying down beside you with a frustrated sigh, he had tears on his eyes and trembled in rage. You sobbed softly, but raised your head to look at him, knowing that an angry and frustrated Ivar was dangerous to be with. 

Then he moved closer to you again, but you were quick enough to stop him with your hands on his chest. 

"Ivar, please, don't... It's not my fault, I..." 

"It's not my fault!" He yelled at you, at the verge of tears. 

"I know" you sobbed "Just... Maybe we need some time, we can try again..."

"No!" He sobbed "No, I have to kill you" 

You widened your eyes, terrified, as he grabbed your hair and pressed your head against the mattress,

"No, Ivar, you don't have to do that, please, just let me..." 

"You will tell my brothers that I can't satisfy a woman, I have to kill you, no one will miss a slave" 

"No, I won't tell anyone, please, listen to me" you whispered.

Ivar hesitated, you felt him relax a bit just before he let you go, you dried your tears.

"It's not your fault, there's a lot of men that can't..." 

Ivar grunted again. 

"This doesn't mean you can't have sex" you added, quickly, fixing your eyes on his "You're nervous, maybe if you relax a bit and..."

"No" he muttered, his voice breaking "I can't do it, it doesn't work... Useless legs and useless cock" he clenched his jaw

"That is not true" you bit your lip "Ivar, you're a son of Ragnar, a viking, just because you can't have sex doesn't mean you're less of a man" 

Ivar didn't answer you, his lower lip trembled and his beautiful eyes were full of tears. Suddenly you weren't scared or angry at him anymore, but your heart broke at the sight of him crying. 

"I won't be able to have children" he sobbed quietly. 

"You don't know that" you tried to smile softly "Only the Gods can decide that"

"I didn't mean to hurt you" he said softly, looking away from you.

"I know" you muttered. 

"Please, don't tell my brothers" he frowned "I don't want them to..."

"I won't tell anyone" you shook your head "Are you okay?" 

Ivar didn't answer, he blinked a few times, trying to hold back the tears, clenching his jaw and tensing his arms. You bit your lip and approached him carefully, your eyes fixed on the Mjölnir that hang from his neck. 

"My prince" you muttered "Please don't feel bad, this doesn't mean anything..." he pouted again and you sighed "This doesn't make you weak... Only different"

"I'm tired of being different" he whispered. 

"It's not a bad thing" you shook your head "Not everyone can be a son of Ragnar, and not everyone can find greatness, being different could work on your favor, my prince"

"But I can't..."

"Maybe you can" you interrupted him "Maybe you need to be in love" you smiled softly, caressing his cheek "Maybe one day you'll meet the love of your life and..."

Ivar scoffed. 

"I'm the cripple, no one would ever..." he didn't finish, just frowned and licked his lower lip nervously. 

"Don't say that" you muttered, getting even closer to him "And we can try again anytime you want, my prince" 

Ivar looked at you again. 

"Do you really think that?" 

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his lips again softly. You liked kissing him. 

"I do" you smiled "I think people underestimates you, and I'm sure you'll be a great viking someday, even more than you are now" 

________________________________

Ivar made sure that his brothers stopped pursuing you. He could see them staring at you, or trying to get you alone to have sex, but it didn't take much to convince his mother that he needed a personal slave. So you stopped serving dinner and cleaning the Hall to spend the day attending to his needs and cleaning his room. And after a few weeks, they were busy with a new slave. 

You weren't exactly upset, you had now less chores, and you weren't as busy as before. Serving Ivar wasn't easy, but he wasn't too cruel with you; sometimes he'd yell at you, other days he'd ask you to lay on his bed next to him and cuddle him until he fell asleep. 

With time, he warmed up to you. He never tried anything with you, nothing more than cuddling you and sometimes kissing your cheek before falling asleep. One day, you found yourself smiling softly as you caressed his hair, laying on bed next to an sleeping Ivar that looked so beautiful and so relaxed that it made your heart beat faster. 

You knew that he'd leave you one day, he was a prince and a Ragnarsson, and you were just a slave. He was meant to do great things, while you'd spend the rest of your days serving. But you didn't think it would be so soon. 

When Ivar said he'd leave to England with his father, you cried the entire night. Aslaug begged you to convince him to stay in Kattegat with her, she said he would die on such a journey, and you believed her. If there was a storm and the ships sink, there was no way he'd survive that, but Ivar didn't seem to mind. He didn't listen to his mother and he didn't listen to you, but that last night he kissed you softly and promised you'd be okay. Even if he died, his brothers would stay in Kattegat, and they'd take care of you. 

You weren't allowed to go and say goodbye to him, as you had to help cleaning the kitchens after the feasts, but soon Queen Aslaug called you and explained you'd be serving her from now on. She was always nice to you, she treated you well and she spoke about Ivar a lot. It was nice to hear stories of him when he was a child, but in some way it only made you miss him even more. Until Aslaug left you too. 

The next time you saw Ivar, he had changed. He looked more mature, older and more dangerous. He barely looked at you the first time, but the second time he took the pitcher from your hands as you went to refill Sigurd's cup on one of the feasts and throw it away. He took your hand in front of everyone, defying Lagertha with a glare, and freed you. 

"You're no longer a slave" he said softly "There's an empty little house near the market, it is yours now" he smirked "Now you're a free woman and you can choose how to live" 

You could only smile at his words, nodding softly as he kissed the back of your hand softly. You weren't used to Ivar being affectionate in public, but it felt good, you opened your mouth to say something, but Lagertha interrupted you. 

"You cannot free my slaves, Ivar" she tried to sound calm and relaxed, but you saw the rage on her eyes. Not only Ivar threatened her, but also defied her in public. 

"She's not your slave" he smirked "She's mine, she's always been mine... And now she's free" Ivar smiled softly at you. 

You looked at Lagertha, who was glaring at Ivar but didn't argue. She just turned around and went back to her new throne. Ivar pushed you onto his lap leaving a small kiss on your neck as he filled a new cup with mead for you. 

"Thank you" you muttered. 

Ivar hummed, nodding against your neck. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but for once you didn't care. You were free, no more serving or obeying orders, now you could live as a free woman. You could marry, and have a family. 

"I must leave for England again" he said, raising his head to look at you "To avenge my father's death... But I'll be back, to avenge my mother's death" he clenched his jaw as you looked at him with a small smile "And I need you to stay here, to wait for me" he frowned softly "Will you do that?" 

You bit your lip but nodded with a small smile. 

"Why can't I go with you?"

Ivar smiled shaking his head. 

"It would be dangerous, but when I come back I will teach you to fight" he winked at you "I promise" 

"Okay" you muttered "I'll wait for you, but you have to come back, Ivar the Boneless, you can't die"

"You said it yourself, Y/N, I can't die"

_____________________________________

You never thought he'd come back to you. Not really. It would make you the happiest woman in the world, but you had to be realistic. He made some beautiful promises when he was drunk, then he kissed you a couple of times before going to sleep and then he left to avenge his father. You heard about his success, his rise and how he conquered York. And when he came back to Kattegat, after defeating Lagertha and Bjorn, you were sure he had forgotten you. 

He changed. This Ivar wasn't the boy that promised you he'd come back. His hair was long, collected in braids, and you could barely recognize that boy that cried on your arms years ago. Ivar left as a boy and came back as a man. 

That first night there was a feast. They celebrated his victory, drank and ate like it was their last night on Midgard. You celebrated too, even though you couldn't stop looking at the throne, where Ivar sat alongside King Harald, drinking and laughing. His words replayed on your head and you had to stop yourself from calling his name a couple of times. Had he really forgotten you? 

Hvitserk was the first one that saw you. He greeted you with a drunk giggle and a hug and offered you more mead. And just when you were about to sit next to him, ready to hear everything about the battle, your eyes found Ivar's. 

He stared at you from his seat, just in front of his throne. His beautiful eyes were clouded, sleepy, result from all the alcohol he had already drank. His lips were parted and he was leaning into king Harald as he said something to him, but his eyes were still fixed on you. 

You understood he hadn't forgotten you. Ivar looked nearly surprised to see you, but then his lips curved on a smile and you couldn't help but smile back at him. 

Maybe he's changed his mind, though, you thought, maybe he found someone else... Maybe he doesn't want me anymore. 

The next morning, Ivar demanded your presence. Two of his soldiers accompanied you to his chambers; he slept on the main room now, on the bed that belonged to his parents. You hadn't entered that room since Aslaug told you to hide, the day Lagertha attacked Kattegat. 

Ivar was sitting on the bed, fumbling with his braces, but he raised his head as soon as he heard you entering. 

He dismissed the guards with a nod and stood up, grunting softly. You gasped when you saw him walking for the first time, leaning on his crutch. You had to raise your head a bit to look at him. 

"Hi" 

"Hi, Ivar" you smiled "King Ivar"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Suddenly he looked a bit more like the boy you had fell in love with. 

"You're here"

"You came back"

Ivar hummed, eyeing you carefully. 

"I never break my promises"

He poured some wine on two cups, offering one to you as he pointed to one of the chairs. You sat down muttering a thank you, still looking at him. 

"I saw you last night, during the feast" he cleared his throat "But I was... A bit drunk" he frowned, making you giggle.

"You were celebrating, I didn't want to bother you"

Ivar looked at you again with wide eyes. 

"You could never bother me, Y/N" 

You tried not to smile excitedly, taking a sip of wine. 

"So... Are you married?" 

You chuckled, shaking your head softly. 

"No, I took these years to enjoy the freedom you gave me, my king" 

"Ivar" he frowned "Call me Ivar" 

"Ivar" you liked how his name sounded on your lips "I wanted to live alone and be by myself for a while, it's nice"

"So... You like your life now, right? You're happy" he sounded a bit disappointed.

"Yes, I am" you raised your eyebrow.

"I'm glad" he muttered "I... Thought a lot about you"

Again, you had to hold back a big smile.

"I'm surprised you found the time, I thought you'd be too busy conquering new places and killing christians to remember me" 

Ivar blushed. It was fun to see the mighty Ivar the Boneless, the fierce warrior that had defeated the christians and lead the Great Heathen Army, blush and be awkward around a girl. 

"I never forgot you" he shrugged "I wondered if you remembered me"

You giggled.

"Ivar, how could I forget you?" You shook your head "You freed me" 

"And you stayed" he muttered.

You nodded softly with a smile. 

Ivar stood up then, leaning on his crutch. You cleared your throat and stood up too. He was taller than you, something you didn't realize when he crawled around. 

"I'd like to... Invite you to the feast" he bit his lip, nervously. He had rehearsed this with Hvitserk before, but it wasn't the same. 

"Which feast, my king?" You smiled "Haven't we celebrated your victory enough?" 

"No, this is... To introduce the people of Kattegat to... Their future queen" 

Your smile faltered. Of course he had a queen, what were you thinking? He was a king and you were nothing more than a former slave and could never even imagine yourself marrying him. He took a liking to you, maybe he thought you were pretty years ago, but now he had found someone to settle with and to have children. He had found a queen. 

"Sure, of course, I'd love to meet her..."

"That is... If she agrees" he frowned.

His insecurity made you smile. 

"I'm sure she will, my king..."

"Will you... Come to the feast as my future queen, Y/N?" He asked softly. 

Maybe it's not the best way to ask her, you idiot.

"What?" You widened your eyes. If it was some kind of joke or...

"I'm asking you to marry me" Ivar cupped your cheek with his hand, and this time you couldn't hold back the huge smile on your lips. 

"Yes" you chuckled "Yes"

Ivar nearly growled in relief before shaking his head and leaning in to kiss your lips softly. 

"Gods" he frowned "This is harder than planning battles"

_______________________________________________

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[robininthelabyrinth]

How will nmy react to a memory loss jgy how think himself a nie scet member ?

There were murmurs around him when he first started waking up.

“– last few times – appears he thinks that –”

“– need to avoid any disturbances –”

“ - perhaps pretend -”

“Absolutely not.”

That last one was Sect Leader Nie.

His voice was loud and piercing as always, a general accustomed to needing to make himself heard over the din of battle and never quite having adjusted to situations where it wasn’t needed, and Meng Yao found himself relaxing a little bit just at the sheer familiarity of it. Nie Mingjue was as reliable as the sunrise: once you were one of his people, he’d defend you to the death.

If he was here, Meng Yao was safe.

He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, the room was empty but for Sect Leader Nie, who was sitting at the desk doing paperwork. Probably paperwork that Meng Yao should be doing, but for the injury that must have led to all of this – he didn’t remember it at all, but short-term amnesia was a common side effect of certain injuries, and his head was wrapped in bandages.  

Still, he struggled to sit up. “Sect Leader Nie,” he called, and Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders tensed. “If you want my help –”

“You should be resting,” Sect Leader Nie said. He was staring at the wall in front of him instead of turning back to look at Meng Yao – a sign of guilt? Had he been involved in what happened? “Do not trouble yourself.”

“And let you mess up my filing system?” Meng Yao teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget how long it took me to fix the accounts the way I like it –”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Meng Yao paused, then, abruptly concerned: Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders were curved inwards, as if expecting a blow – afraid of pain. Afraid of him?

Impossible.

And yet, at the same time – unmistakable.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He always kept his voice level, no matter the circumstances; someone certainly had to, and it wasn’t going to be anyone surnamed Nie. “Are you expelling me from your service?”

It was a joke, of course. Nie Mingjue liked him, respected him, valued him – had made it clear a thousand ways that he would never listen to gossip or to slander, would never judge him by who his mother was, and Meng Yao couldn’t imagine what sort of dire mistake would be necessary to make Nie Mingjue refuse to stand by him, even against the world.

“You’re the one who will leave,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice cutting, but then the anger flowed out of his shoulders and he sighed, closing his eyes, as if he had mistakenly become angry over the wrong thing. “It is not that I didn’t know that your ambitions had always been with Lanling, not Qinghe.”

Bile and panic rose up Meng Yao’s throat, but what could he say?

It was true. He had come to Qinghe because he had heard that they respected talent there, regardless of birth; he had come because he had needed a place to rise to prominence, where he could become so respectable that even his father would be unable to ignore him.

Qinghe had always been a waystation, not a destination.

Or, if one wanted to look at it with less kindness – he had treated it as a stepping-stone.

Had Nie Mingjue discovered how Meng Yao had schemed to get his attention, his sympathy? The little tricks he’d played to get him to agree to take a chance on an unknown, all the ways he’d wormed his way into the man’s life so that it would be impossible to extract him without damage? Or was it something more recent, something hidden away in his lost memories – had his father asked him to betray some confidence of Nie Mingjue’s? Turn over some information, take some secret action…had he done it?

Was that why Nie Mingjue didn’t want to look at him?

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Nie Mingjue said bluntly. “The doctors told me to play along, pretend not to…I told them trying to hide it from you was pointless, that you were too smart, that you’d figure it out – I assume you have by now?”

“I’ve lost my memory,” Meng Yao said. He was shivering, and it wasn’t cold. “I woke up and the doctors realized that I’d forgotten a great deal, so they wanted you not to cause me any disturbance…how much time have I lost?”

“The war is over,” Nie Mingjue said, and surely that should be cause for celebration? But Nie Mingjue’s voice was flat and neutral, as if some terrible thing had happened, and his fists were clenched in rage. “You have been recognized by the Jin sect, and now live in Lanling. I cannot speak to the quality of your life, or to your happiness, but you have at least achieved that much.”

It was not that Meng Yao thought he’d be happy in Lanling – it was that he hadn’t thought he’d be happy anywhere, and found to his surprise that Qinghe actually did make him happy. It wasn’t supposed to, nothing was supposed to; it was all supposed to be part of the plan, that was all, a means to an end.

He wasn’t supposed to become fond of Sect Leader Nie, who tried so hard and listened so earnestly; he wasn’t supposed to be friends with Nie Huaisang, a charming waste of space who ought to have been born as a roly-poly kitten instead.

He was supposed to be in Lanling, by his father’s side, and now it appeared he was – and yet the injury he suffered had driven his memories back to his time at Qinghe.

That said something, he thought.

He’d had head injuries before, memory issues, dating back to his childhood; his mother had hired a doctor for him over it, a real one and not some faker, and he’d explained that when injured, Meng Yao’s extraordinary mind would retreat to the place it felt safest, recreating the past out of all those perfectly preserved memories and sinking into it as if it were real. If this injury followed the pattern of the others, there was no need for any treatment beyond time – soon enough, he would start to remember, and reality would gradually reassert itself over fantasy.

In the past, no matter what, his memory would always return to those few months when he was eight years old, when his mother had met a possessive benefactor and they had lived free and easy under his care – it had ended horribly, of course, but at the time he didn’t know that.

This time, his memory had returned to his days in Qinghe.

And Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t look at him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“You assume that you’ve done something?”

“You don’t want to look at me,” Meng Yao said. A moment of silence, with Nie Mingjue not giving in, stiff and quiet, so he added, quietly, “I warned you in the beginning that I was unworthy of the trust you placed in me.”

In the end, Nie Mingjue turned to look at him. He seemed tired, and his eyes were bloodshot in a way that did not speak well of his health.

“Tell me what I did,” Meng Yao said. “I want to know.”

Nie Mingjue exhaled. “You killed a captain,” he said dully. “Premeditated murder, and you excused it by saying that he had stolen your glory and bullied you; even if it was true, you never once said a word of it to me before, never sought some other means to resolve it. You then defected to the Wen sect, becoming a master torturer and Wen Ruohan’s right hand; you killed my men, tortured me, and then killed him to become a war hero. After that, you were accepted into the Jin sect, and Lan Xichen and I swore brotherhood with you.”

He paused, then, but that was not the end, or else he would not be so angry.

Meng Yao waited, his mind dancing over all the excuses, all the things he could say, belated justifications, things that would cast him in a good light, a better light – what Nie Mingjue had described was obviously a problem, but not an insoluble one, and his future self should have known that. He could still fix this.

But to fix it, he needed to know the full extent of his crimes first.

“My qi became disordered after the war,” Nie Mingjue finally said, continuing. “Lan Xichen proposed a treatment: a Lan melody known as the Song of Clarity. But he is busy, so you took on the responsibility of playing for me…”

No, Meng Yao thought. No.

But at once he knew where the story led, even before the telling of it was done. A story that started with premeditated murder, however his future self had justified it to himself, could only end with the same –

Why would he do something like that? Perhaps because Nie Mingjue turned away from him after the first murder, as he ought to have known he would – Nie Mingjue tried so hard, and thought everyone else did, too; the glimpse at what Meng Yao was really like, the creature of spite and bitterness and hatred, willing to kill the filthy way, hidden in the dark…it would have come as a shock to him.

And yet his former self had obviously salvaged it, somehow; Nie Mingjue had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, to make up with him, to treat him as an equal, and still he –

Surely no prize could be worth this.

“Do you know why I did it?” he asked quietly, staring down at his own clenched fists, hating iron for not being steel. His damaged mind was telling him that what he had had in Qinghe was dearer to him than his own mother, and he had nearly destroyed it with his own two hands.

“The Nie sect and the Jin sect are at a crossroads,” Nie Mingjue said, and at last, at last Meng Yao recognized the flatness of his tone and the lack of visible signs of fury as the signs of medicine, the sluggish pain relief that could help stymie an incipient qi deviation. The poisonous song he played must have come very near to working. “Jin Guangshan wants the title of Chief Cultivator; I think there should be none. Jin Guangshan protects Xue Yang even after he murdered an entire clan; I think he deserves to die – I asked you for his head, and you promised it to me…you never intended to deliver. There can be only one sect ascendant, and you are, as much as he hates it, your father’s heir.”

His heir. Had he done something to Jin Zixuan, then? Unsatisfied with only the name he had promised himself he would obtain, had he coveted the power, too, and sought to achieve it by any means possible?

If he had reached the point of being willing to murder Nie Mingjue, then surely he had done that, too.

“I bashed your head in,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally. “During the deviation that you provoked. Lan Xichen stopped me from actually killing you, and from dying myself, and then you awoke without any memory of what you’d done, calling yourself Meng Yao again as if you were still – as if you still –”

Someone had asked Nie Mingjue to come in here and pretend, Meng Yao realized, and with a start realized also that he was furious about it. Someone had told him to come in here and play pretend with his would-be murderer as if they were still friends.

It might even have been Lan Xichen who’d done it.

There were tears on Nie Mingjue’s cheeks. He did not wipe them away the way Nie Huaisang would have, trying to hide his pain; he only let them fall, his eyes sliding shut once more – he could not look at Meng Yao, and Meng Yao couldn’t blame him.

“I wish I could go back,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened his eyes to look at him. “Before I made those decisions. I wish I was still Meng Yao, and could do things differently. Is it too late for that?”

With anyone else, he would know the answer already. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have asked.

With anyone else, his mind would still be back in those wonderful days of being eight and alone with his mother for the very first time and last time.

“How can I ever trust you again?” Nie Mingjue asked, shaking his head in denial. “You drove me into a qi deviation – you wanted to kill me, knowing it would leave Huaisang the position of sect leader, knowing how cruel a death it was –”

“Is it too late?”

This was not something that could be repaired easily, with words and a gentle smile. This would take action and sacrifice. But before he committed himself, he had to know if it were even possible.

If Nie Mingjue could still forgive him, even now –

If he was still one of Nie Mingjue’s people, to be defended until death.

Nie Mingjue abruptly stood up, unsteady on his feet, clearly still ill – if I am half the murderer that I appear to be in his stories, I will kill those doctors who prioritized my health, this farce, over his, and if Lan Xichen was involved I will make it clear to him what wrong he has done – and shook his head, but this time it was not a denial.

“I never know what to do with you,” he said, and it was not a no.

It was not a no.

Jin Guangyao smiled.

(At the trial, which happened eventually, Nie Mingjue spoke in his favor, and his would-be murderer was remanded into the custody of Qinghe for whatever punishment they saw fit. It didn’t last long, but it was an excellent alibi for his father’s untimely death, even though it did not solve all the questions that lingered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes. But that, too, was not an insoluble problem.)

[holdmyowos]

Your New Boyfriend (Shigaraki x Reader smut)

Shigaraki x Dom!Reader

Includes: gore, angst, cussing, watching p0rn, masturbation, oral

Author's note: I feel like Shigaraki's naturally a dom, but I like to think that he would be a sub because he really doesn't want to hurt you accidentally with his quirk. Also, I found the song, 'Your New Boyfriend' after writing this so I added bits.

"He's in your bed, I'm in your Twitch chat"

Your POV:

Your boyfriend had been too late to save you. The world was starting to go blurry. That damn hero had snapped both of your arms. Not a very heroic thing to do. They hung uselessly, blood trickling down all over. There was no way you would ever use them again. You stared up at the sky. A quirkless nobody like you never should have been in the league. The only reason you were was because All for One had saved you from the rubble of your house. You had no one else to turn to. You looked up at the stars. Wasn't it supposed to be daytime? You must be hallucinating. Hawks descended, the moon shining on his beautiful feathers, looking angelic, and scooped you very gently in his arms. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have protected you." He nuzzles your head. You see the tears falling off of his cheeks. Your arms dangle. He takes a few deep shuddering breaths. "No! You can't die on me! Fuck!" Your vision dimmed and you fell limp in his arms.

"If I could change a single thing, I'd make it me and not him."

Shigaraki's POV:

The battle was over, and the League had finally won for once. Hawks had said that there was something I was supposed to see, and it was important. Usually, we never really talked, so it must actually be important. I ran after him, flying ahead of me. He swooped down next to an unmoving mass. "It's Y/N. They didn't make it." My jaw dropped. Y/N? How? They were the only one that didn't ever make fun of me. They were my reason to live. "Leave. Now. I'll take care of this," I harshly said to Hawks, making him flutter away, not wanting to defy me. I delicately raised them with a pinky in the air, putting my ear to their chest. There was a faint noise, but perhaps that was from somewhere else. "This can't be. You aren't dead." I stared at my hand in confusion. My hand was covered in blood. In the dark of the night, I had failed to realize that they must have been severely injured to make Hawks think they were dead. "Kurogiri!" I snapped. He appeared almost immediately. Upon looking at the person's body, he said, "My condolences. They meant a lot to you, right?" I said nothing. "Don't tell me that. They're not dead. Or... are... are they really gone?" My voice ended sounding almost like a whisper, hoping that it was not so. Kurogiri knelt down next to them, and took a pulse. "It's your lucky day, they're not quite dead yet." My heart fluttered. Hawks you dumbass bastard. Didn't even check for a pulse? "...like I said, yet. If they don't get severe medical treatment very soon, they'll bleed out. None of us have the expertise to fix wounds like this. Both of their arms appear to be broken in multiple places, I severely doubt that they'll live and-" I stood up. "Damn it, Kurogiri! Do what you have to to keep them alive. Anything." Kurogiri nodded, and teleported away, leaving me to scream at the sky.

"I thought when I get older, I'd marry her"

"A half Nomu? You're sure it can be done?" I stared up at the giant cylinder of blue liquid that was keeping them alive in it. Their arms had been amputated. The doctor nodded. As secretive as he was, the guy was totally loyal to All for One, and therefore loyal to me."All we have to do is fix the arms using the process we use for making the Nomu. It should work out perfectly." I nod. That would have to do, as it seemed to be the only way of them getting out of this unscathed. "Well, there could be a few side effects, but nothing too major." He said, ruining the moment. "Like what?" I snapped. "Well, there could be some mental side effects, such as body dysphoria. I mean, there is always the chance that it won't work at all, or that perhaps it works too well and the Nomu part takes over the rest of the body." I scratched my neck. The stress had given back my old habits. "But they'll still mentally be themself, right? I don't want them to end up just like another Nomu." He nodded. "Likely. Still, I'm not sure why you are going through such lengths for one of your minor lackeys. Unless you want to program them to be totally loyal to you or something. But the resources alone for a quirk less nobody-" I put my hands around his neck, making sure to not touch him with all my fingers. Program them? That had to be crossing a line. I took a few deep breaths trying to calm down, but it made it worse. It took all my self control to not disintegrate him for saying such a horrible thing about my love but I needed him to save them. I glanced up at their body, seemingly lifeless in the canister. I tightened my grip. "Never. Never ever talk about them like that. Unless you want to die here and now." I released him to let him go do his work.

After getting the call from the doctor that the treatment had worked, and the healing was done, I immediately had Kurogiri teleport me to see. They looked perfectly fine, their arms free of even scars and blemishes that were there earlier. Something still bothered me. "Why aren't they waking up?" The doctor backed away, no doubt fearful of me turning him into dust."They just need a little time. Take them back to the hideout, and they'll be fine." I did just that, sitting by the side of their bed. "I hope someday you'll realize how much I love you. Enough to bring you back from the dead."

"Your new boyfriend's an arsehole"

Your POV:

You woke up. Groggily, you opened your eyes. How could you have woken up? Weren't you supposed to be dead? You moved your arms. Totally unbroken. In fact, they felt strong. Seeing Shigaraki next to you, you said, "How did Hawks get me to the hospital in time? I thought I was a goner." He sneered. "Pfft. That hero saved you? Please. No. Sorry sweetheart, it was me. He thought you were deceased, and left you for dead. The dumbass should have checked for a pulse. Anyway, after your... boyfriend," he sneered. "...thought you were dead, he abandoned the cause, and revealed that he was a fucking secret agent for the heroes." You shook your head. "No way." He got up. "Whatever princess. Just happy you're fine." He left the room, gently shutting the door. Looking around after getting out of bed, only Kurogiri and Shigaraki were at the league's hideout. How could you be alive. Your arms were supposed to be broken. It was obvious that Shigaraki did not want to talk about it, so you went to his second in command. "Kurogiri, how did you guys get me not dead?" That was a dumb way of putting it. His pupilless eyes turned towards you. "I am programmed to not answer that question. Oh, keeping secrets, are we Shigaraki? There was always a way around, and you would find out. "Do you know how?" He nodded his head yes. "Ok then, what did you do yesterday that had to do with me?" That seemed to work. "I took you to the doctor's lab where he fixed you." He was silent for a moment, then added his two cent take on it, something he rarely ever did. "Shigaraki seemed really concerned for you, Y/N. He loves you. He saved your life. You are in his debt. You must repay him." His words sent chills down your spine. Kurogiri never talked like that. He was always monotonous, giving only the requested information. You backed away, creeped out.

"I just think that I deserve A little bit of what I earned"

You sat behind Shigaraki, on the couch behind his gamer chair. The game blared boss battle music. "Do you wish to fight me, mortal?" That was an odd phrase. Must be the end game boss or something. He kept muttering little things under his breath. It was kind of cute. He won the game after two tries. A smile was on his face. You hardly ever saw that. He started a new game when you sneezed. He turned around, startled. "Oh, Y/N. How are you? I didn't know you were there. How long have you been there, exactly?" Since Kurogiri had said Shigaraki was in love with you, that had to be true. Kurogiri always told the truth. Since Hawks had backstabbed the league, you were open for a new boyfriend, right? You surveyed him with new eyes. Even though he wasn't heather most handsome, with his chapped lips, he wasn't that bad either, his hair was fluffy sky blue color, and something about his eyes entranced you. "Hey, what's with that look? Are you okay?" He seemed concerned for your well-being. This relationship could work out. You shook your head as if clearing the thoughts out. "Fine, thanks." He looked away from you, back at the game. You went over the couch, making a few quieter footstep sounds to make him think you were out of the room, and ducked behind the couch, peering out at him. What did he do in his alone time? He glanced around to check that you had left, and popped a different game into the CD drive. This game was very different from what he had been playing before. Instead of his, shooting, taking-over-the-galaxy-type game, the intro screen had girls in bathing suits... and some without. He started the game up, and immediately a very lewd picture of a girl showed up. He played the dumb game for a bit. Really? The second you leave the room he goes to play that kind of game, and fuck with some cartoon girls? That was actually kind of cute. Did you make him that horny? "None of them are as good as Y/N. Fuck."

"When I'm only one click away from insane"

He drummed his fingers on the desk. Slowly, you heard the unzipping of his pants. This was wrong. You shouldn't be listening in on him. But you couldn't help it. He had a crush on you, and the feeling was mutual. He started making little sounds, no doubt masturabting. Too bad he was turned away from you. "Ugh! Yea, mmmm. Just like that you little slut. Take it real good." Now that was too much. You felt your own panties behind drenched at ugly of him saying such dirty words to you. You slowly crept up on him. Somehow, he must have realized that you were there, because in one deft motion he zipped his pants, turned off the monitor with the naked girls, and stepped in front of the screen as if covering it. He turned to face you, a hand against your throat. "Kinky," you said. Realizing who you were, his hand slowly relaxed from the tight grip he had, letting it fall off of you. He stood there for a second, unsure what to do, unsure of how long you were there.

"'Cause she's living the dream"

"Poor Tomura. Did I stop you from cumming? I know what you did for me, and I want to make it up to you." His scarlet eyes widened and you slowly pressed him back into his chair and straddled him, holding his wrists with your strong arms. "Don't deny it. I know you want this." He looked away, unable to look at you in the eyes. "Yea, sure whatever." His words didn't match his actions. You felt him growing against you, straining against the fabric. "Naughty boy, looking at others for pleasure. They aren't even real. They can't make you feel like I can." You gently pressed your lips against his, and he went along with it, moaning softly. You rolled your hips onto his, giving him a little friction. "Fuck," he muttered softly. You grabbed his hair and made the kiss deeper, his rough lips against yours. You stay like that for a while, content with tasting each other. He finally backed off. "Y/N, you don't know how much I craved you, how much I wanted this." "Oh, I haven't even done anything yet." You very slowly unzipped his pants, and he blushed furiously under you. When you were finally done, you revealed his underwear, soaked where his head met the fabric. You got down on your knees and licked him through the fabric, and he shuddered, digging his nails into the soft leather of the chair. You gently stroked the tip, then slid his pants and briefs down to reveal his cock, which twitched when you blew cold air on it. "I want you so badly. Please. Please." You took him into your hands and licked it a few times before shoving his length into your mouth. He became a sobbing mess beneath you, calling your name as you sucked him off. His words became a string of incoherent praises. You knew he was getting close, so you finished him off and he came onto your hand. After a couple of shuddering breaths, he returned to normal, yet his dick was still erect.

"Love isn't quite what I thought it'd be"

"Please, I want to taste you. Let me, please, let me eat you up," he begged. You took off your lower clothing, and he went onto the couch. You slowly descended onto him, and he spent no time waiting. He grabbed your hips, digging some of his broken fingernails in, making sure not to touch you with all his fingers. You let out a squeal of pain, but that did not stop him. He covered you with his mouth, his tongue making lewd sounds. You let out moans as he did it, and soon you were ready to cum. Surprisingly, he took it well and swallowed it all, still licking you as if a puppy, desperately wanting a last bit of milk from its mother. "You're so desperate, babe. Lighten up." You fluffed his hair, but he kept going. His eyes were half lidded. How was he enjoying this so much? "Dirty little bitch, you just love sucking me, don't you?" He just vibrated his lips against you, and shuddered. "You look like you're fucking possessed. Stop it." He just kept licking and sucking until you came another time, and he came with you.

"I've got the key, and he's just the doormat"

You got off of his face and he gasped for breath, clear and whitish liquids coming out of his mouth. "You make a cute ahegao face," you said, taking a pic. He swallowed, wiped off his mouth, and frowned. "Did you just take a picture?" He tried swiping your phone. "Uh, no?" You replied, keeping the phone out of his reach. You laughed, and whispered in his ear. "I'm keeping this for blackmail until I know we'll do this again." You kissed him on the cheek, and he leaned against you in an attempt to take your phone. You clicked the power button, so he'd have to guess your password before he could delete it. He growled, up in your face. "Fine then, let's go right now."

"Cause she moves on pretty bloody quick"