#thug my beloved

[jamonsetee]

i dont know how to do a background ok

[batboopp]

me too mr batman me too

[mymangamemes]

When someone tells me to stop posting memes to Tumblr and get a real life

From Beloved by my In-laws by Geoni and tae so-jung

[wander-over-the-words]

Cyberpunk 2077 is one of those rare pieces of media where I'm attracted to more of the ladies than the men

[peapeapeapa]

Attila Blorbohead redraw

The Laios-ification of Attila Buckethead

I think he keeps himself super clean under there (like lavender cherry blossom soap clean), but he doesn't cut his hair or shave (what would the point be?)

[yannawayne]

not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

SYNOPSIS: You get kidnapped and Damian snaps. TAGS: Graphic Depictions Of Violence! Genderneutral! Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Kidnapping, Childhood Trauma, My Mother is the Worst Woman Alive and I'm her Favorite Son, Damian is Eighteen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

YOUR PALMS WERE PRESSED tightly against your eyes, wrists raw and burning from the rope that had bound them just minutes ago. Sobs slipped from your lips, eyes bloodshot, and mouth parched dry.

The rotting smell of the warehouse was an assault on your senses—an acrid mix of trash, harsh chemicals, and the faint tang of gunfire that lingered in the air.

There was a hushing in your ear as you leaned against a cloaked figure—Batman. Bruce. 

His hand rubbed at your back, firm and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos. His cape, dark and imposing, wrapped around you like a shield, blocking out the violence unfolding just in front of you.

Shadows danced erratically on the walls as Robin moved with lethal precision. Bodies fell unconscious, thudding heavily against the concrete floor. Blood splattered. Screams echoed. Each punch landed with a sickening crunch, bones breaking. Crates and debris were scattered haphazardly, wood and concrete slamming onto the floor. 

Damian couldn't see anything but red.

His vision was tunneled, focused solely on the next target, the next blow, the next scream. 

A swift roundhouse kick sent one assailant crashing into a stack of crates, the wood splintering under the impact. One punch connected with a jaw, the sickening crunch of bone breaking echoing through the air. Blood sprayed on his fist. Another one rushed toward him, brandishing a knife, but he disarmed the man with a swift twist of the wrist, jamming the blade into the attacker's palm. The man screamed, clutching his arm as red streaked his skin.

Damian's eyes flickered with a dark satisfaction as he watched the thug stumble backward, clutching at the wound.

One last man remained. One who had lunged at him from behind, grappling onto his back. Damian scowled and surged backward, driving both himself and his attacker into the wall with bone-crushing force. The man's grip loosened, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him.

"Fool," Damian spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

The thug whimpered, trying to scramble away, but Damian was relentless. He twisted sharply, dislodging the assailant and slamming an elbow into his ribs. The man crumpled against the wall, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

"You think you can touch those I care for and get away with it?" Damian growled. He didn't give the thug a moment to recover. He swung a powerful fist into the guy's face, the impact sending a spray of blood and teeth into the air. 

"F-Fuck you, man!" The man yanked a gun from his waistband, but before he could even line up a shot, Damian’s foot kicked out, sending the weapon flying through the air. The gun clattered against the concrete with a deafening clang. With a snarl, Damian lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

"H-Hey! Mercy! Mercy! I'm a-already down!" the assailant wailed, his hands clawing at Robin's uniform in a desperate plea. "The Bat don’t kill! You—you ain't gonna kill me!"

Damian's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not Batman," he spat, the tone amplified and darkened by the modulator. "Every breath you take is a mercy I choose to grant. By the time I'm finished, you'll be begging for death."

He raised his fist, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The thug’s eyes widened in terror, his pleas growing frantic as he braced for the blow. However, just as Damian’s fist was about to land, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, grabbing onto his hand with a vice-like grip. Before he could react, Batman—Bruce—had tackled him, pinning him firmly against his chest. 

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was firm, concern barely concealed. “That’s enough.”

Damian's struggle was fierce, his body thrashing under his father’s strength as he roared in fury.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his voice raw with anger. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to them!”

The anger engulfed Damian like a stormy ocean, dragging him beneath its violent waves. Visions of his mother’s face, his grandfather’s form, and accusing shadows surged from the depths, all condemning him. Damian’s cries erupted into a raw, guttural scream, gradually dissolving into ragged gasps as he battled the relentless tide.

Though Bruce had shaped him into a hero, a beacon of justice, and his family had offered him a fragile semblance of belonging, Damian was still his mother’s son.

The violence and anger roiling within him were like roots twisted deep within his soul. There was not a thing that could purge the primal rage and pain that had taken root before his first breath.

When he finally broke through the surface, baptized in blood and weighed down by sins that clung to him like chains, he sought you out with an urgent, almost desperate need.

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

Your hands were carefully peeled away from your eyes, and you met soft emerald eyes through a veil of tears. His hands moved to unlatch his cape, the soft fabric pooling around your form. His lips, speaking in his mother tongue, murmured a soothing litany of comfort, Arabic endearments flowing like silk. He pressed your head against his chest and you found refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Bruce watched the scene with a pensive look. His son's body had dwarfed you, broad shoulders and strong muscles enveloping your form like a shield. His head was tucked into your hair, his hands raking all over your tense and sweaty skin.

Damian had momentarily shed the hardened exterior he so often wore—a soldier with a heart that, despite its armor, occasionally revealed cracks. This was a side of him that often surprised people.

Because Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

He was all sharp edges. Poisonous, scalding words that could sear through the thickest armor of patience. Rough, nearly violent in his touch, like a blade pressed against skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, no softness in his gestures, only the relentless precision of a trained killer.

From the earliest moments he could walk, his life was an unending series of tests, each more grueling than the last. Each cut and bruise was a lesson. Failure was met with harsh punishment, success with silent approval. Affection and praise were as rare as mercy. 

The League’s doctrine was ingrained in him: emotions were vulnerabilities, attachments were liabilities, and loyalty was owed only to the mission and the League. His purpose in the League of Assassins was clear—to be the perfect instrument of their will, a living embodiment of their principles. 

Emotion was his enemy, a weakness to be purged.  He was taught to suppress his feelings, to turn them off like a switch. Pain was an illusion, fear a phantom to be banished. He learned to compartmentalize his thoughts, locking away his humanity in the deepest recesses of his mind. 

By the time he reached ten, he was a finely honed instrument of death.

A living weapon in a world that knew no peace.

It had taken Bruce eight grueling years to begin undoing the damage. And even then, he had barely scratched the surface.

Then there was you.

The trembling, warm-faced student Damian had introduced during his senior year—his partner for a science project, he said. 

At first, the interactions were subtle—a fleeting glance here, a hesitant smile there. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore the way your presence began to soften the sharp edges of Damian's demeanor.

Bruce had seen you both fall for each other over the months. And he saw hope. 

You were the opposite of every lesson Damian has ever been taught.

To him, you were soft, in every sense. Soft movements, soft features, soft voice. Everything about you exuded comfort.

You made something he had always pushed down and shut away come to the surface.

You made him feel things—things he should not.

When you touched him with your soft hands, everything in him burned. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin ignited a searing heat, a raw and unfamiliar longing that clawed violently at the walls he had worked so hard to maintain. Each touch chipped away at the concrete barriers of his training, breaking them down and leaving him exposed, aching for something he couldn’t quite name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

Mania. Drake had called it, a wild obsession of his that could consume and devour.

Damian's arms encircled you like a lifeline, holding you close as though he feared you might slip away. His lips brushed against your temple, warm and tender, while his biceps pressed firmly under your chest, anchoring you in his embrace. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the lingering residue of fear. 

And yet, amidst these odors, there was an underlying, almost imperceptible hint of Damian’s cologne—Arabian oudh. It was rich and smoky, with notes of aged wood, a faint earthy sweetness, and subtle undertones of leather and spice.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his suit brushing against your cheek.

A Crush. Todd had chalked it up to puppy love, something that would eventually fade with time.

He lifted you effortlessly from the floor, his strength evident in his smooth, controlled movements. The way he adjusted his hold with such care to ensure your comfort spoke louder than any words could.

Warmth enveloped you—Damian had always run hotter, like a human furnace. On sweltering days, his clinginess (no matter how much he denied it) had been a nuisance, his heat making you feel as if your skin might melt off. But now, that same warmth was a comforting embrace, a welcome shield.

Infatuation. Grayson had suggested, thinking it was just a fleeting, intense passion. But there was something deeper in the way he looked at you, something that felt permanent and unshakeable.

“I am here. I am here, beloved," he spoke to you lowly. "It's alright now."

Love. His father called it.

In an instant, everything seemed to collapse around you. Tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into his chest, each shudder of your body sending waves of anguish through him. Damian’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of you. 

He has seen suffering—he has inflicted suffering. But this was different. Your pain was a torment he was helpless to alleviate. 

Face twisted in guilt, he pulled you tighter against him, as though he could hold the world’s pain at bay if he just held you close enough.

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he flinched, turning to see his father.

“The Batmobile is just by the docks. We can—”

“They're in shock,” Damian scowled. the fire back in his eyes. “Do you honestly believe they're in any state to be moved at this moment?”

Bruce��s gaze was firm. “Damian, we don’t have time to—”

“They need to be stabilized first,” Damian cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. He turned abruptly, striding towards the exit. “If you want them to survive this, we need to take care of them properly, not rush them into a car. I shall be outside.”

Without waiting for a response, Damian moved swiftly, the clatter of his boots echoing as he stepped into the cool night air with you. Once the warehouse door closed behind him, he turned his full attention back to you, his hand gently brushing your tear-streaked face. 

He moved to press his forehead gently against yours, the warmth of his skin meeting yours in a tender connection. He could offer no verbal comfort anymore; words seemed woefully inadequate. Your cries gradually subsided as you drew comfort from his presence.

Love.

He lifted his hand to the side of his face, pressing a button. As his mask retracted, his eyes met yours. Damian knew that more than anything else, you loved his eyes.

Time and again, you found yourself drawn to them, unable to tear your gaze away. They were hypnotic—an exquisite blend of emerald green, green as vibrant as the leather cover of his sketchbook, flecked with gold and streaked with brown paint.

His eyes were windows to his soul, offering the only genuine glimpse into the depths of his emotions. In them, you could see his anger burning like a stormy sea, joy dancing like sunlight on rippling water, embarrassment flitting like a shadow, and pain etched as deep as his scars.

At times, his eyes grew gentle, revealing something much softer—something that made your heart swell and your knees feel weak. A love so pure and unexpected that it could melt the coldest of hearts.

Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

But in these soft, fragile moments he shared with you, where his heart beat in sync with yours, Damian found an unexpected calm. It was in these rare interludes, away from the brutality and darkness that defined his world, that he could truly be himself.

Here, he was not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

ao3: yenwayne

NOTE: I want to delve into the line I wrote: 'Damian is still his mother’s son.'

It's just to show his trauma, I despise Talia with all my guts.

Talia's control over Damian is a textbook example of manipulative conditioning at its most extreme. In psychological development, early experiences and parental influence are crucial in shaping one's self-concept. From his earliest days, Damian was deprived of a normal childhood. His personality, thoughts, and desires have all been sculpted by the League of Assassins from day one.

His anger, protectiveness, and sense of duty are manifestations of this—a child raised to be a killer, now struggling with the fragments of a humanity that was never fully allowed to blossom.

I'm not saying he hasn't changed!!! He has turned into so much more than the weapon they intended him to be. He is genuinely good. But the impact of such deep-seated trauma cannot be easily overlooked or resolved. It’s not something that can simply be swept under the rug or fixed overnight.

So, this was my attempt at capturing his character! I’m very open to constructive criticism since I’m new to the fandom. Please be kind and gentle with your feedback :)

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 045 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Only If You Say Yes ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo was the type of boyfriend who never forced himself on you. He was too much of a gentleman you can't help but think maybe you're the toxic one in this relationship.

But he wouldn't give you the opportunity to let it sink in on how good he treats you because he would just bombard you with lovely kisses and gifts.

In the past, he always lacked the funds and time to spoil his precious beloved. Now that he has the means to shower you with luxury, how could he not?

Your lovely and brilliant smile would always be the first memory that plays in his head whenever he feels like burnout and exhaustion is about to swallow him whole. Those precious eyes of yours that never failed to glimmer like twinkling stars are in his mind as he pushes through a hard labor day.

His beloved's face that is like a tender flower blooming at the peak of springtime, his lover's blinding unparalleled beauty will never cease to make his heart stop.

So how could he, a man who is nothing more than a fool in love, not treat you tenderly as if he is handling the more fragile piece of gem?

Every single thing about you is so loveable.

The elders say that the honeymoon phase of a relationship comes and goes quite fast, but Jinwoo begs to differ.

He never really got out of it.

Nor is the fool willing to change his ways.

After all, would you really call it love if you can restrain yourself?

"Sarang, careful there" Jinwoo cooes gently, holding your hand as you curiously took one step in front of the other while playing atop a fallen log. "We wouldn't want you to be hurt."

"I'll be fine, my boyfriend is the scariest hunter after all!" You say proudly, like a proud puppy showing off its toy plush.

"I'm not that scary," Jinwoo hums, the corners of his eyes curling.

"You beat up Thomas Andre like a thug, are you not scary?" He immediately laughs nervously, embarrassed to hear his troublesome history with the fellow hunter.

"...It was justified, sarang, he pissed me off"

"Mhm," You skip, landing playfully on the ground with a soft thud, "So like a thug."

"Sarang...." Jinwoo sighs, relenting in this small banter knowing you will probably not shut up unless he gives in.

And that was the thing about you, you made Jinwoo instantly obedient. Sure, he always considered being polite with other people before but on particularly bad days, he secretly spat and cursed at those people while maintaining an insincere half smile while doing the facade. With you? You can bully him all you like and he would still love you.

Arguements? Rarely ever happens because he is always wrong unless we're talking about safety.

Why is there a need for a fight? Just tell him and he'll correct himself immediately.

Jinwoo just wants to devote himself to you.

That's all he wants.

To see you happy.

"Jagiya?" He calls out, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. "Can I hug you?"

"What's with that question?" You raise an eyebrow but still stretch your arms out for a hug.

Jinwoo's strong arms would immediately.

"Nothing just..." Jinwoo sighs, burying his nose on your hair to inhale the lovely scent he can never grow tired of. "Feeling a bit clingy."

"You know you can always hold me whenever" You say, rubbing his back which prompted the hunter to hold you even closer to himself.

"I don't want to make uncomfortable" He chuckles dryly, "What if I hold you while you're not feeling it?"

"You holding me will always make me happy"

"I still want to ask," Jinwoo smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately. "Just because"

"Jinwoo, you're being sappy, you can't even get drunk yet you're acting like you're drunk" You say, pinching the man's cheek which earned you a soft bite at your digit.

"Well... I cant blame you for saying that" He simply says.

He just wanted to cherish you, really. He really does. The trauma of war can never really be taken out of his system. It's only through you and his family that he can feel sane. If it weren't for that, he would as well be a hollow shell of a human being forced to be a vessel of war by his predecessor.

So don't blame him for being a bit weird sometimes.

He's just a little fucked up in the head after the war.

He'll come around.

But Jinwoo will always, always, cherish you.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I am still in the process of having writer's block so please excuse this very bland story qwq. I'm mind blocked with Jinwoo and I feel so overstimulated. I might do different characters for now until I get my woowoo juices back. For now, please forgive me guys qwq꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[tomriddleslove]

Pick up the phone.

✩Tom Riddle x F! Reader

Summary: The one where your classmate can’t take a hint and Tom doesn’t like people trying to take what’s his. Alternatively : Tom is over possessive and he can’t bear the thought of someone wanting you.

A/N: Despite my Mattheo and Theo fics doing the best i absolutely love writing for tom and this imagine had me going FERAL. I usually don’t like writing non timeline accurate fics but this worked best with tom so pls ignore the fact that they probably wouldn’t have phones during this time. As always, reblogs and replies absolutely make my day so please let me know what you think!!!

Warnings: Slight dark/controlling Tom, unhealthy relationship. Slight NSFW at the end

Songs: House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls - the weeknd

Pick up the phone - Travis Scott and Young Thug

You just about manage to dash into class, trying to calm down your laboured breathing as you slide into your seat, thankful that Professor Slughorn was busy writing something up on the board.

You pant lightly, unpacking your stuff onto your desk. Your desk mate, a boy by the name of Jamie Grimshaw, grins. He was a rather unaware boy, never seeming to catch onto your half-assed laughs and awkward smiles that suggested the last thing you wanted to be doing was entertaining his poor jokes and conversation. He nudges you with a small grin, almost teasing, and you let out a small awkward laugh, grimacing as you look away.

You look up as you place your bag to the side, your gaze immediately locking onto Tom’s. He’s gazing at you, or rather, your desk mate, with a look of such distaste you have to be sure he’s not actually trying to cast some sort of non-verbal spell. You shoot a warning glare at him and his gaze softens ever so slightly as he looks at you.

Keyword - slightly. Because Tom Riddle was certainly not soft. Even for you, the one who had somehow defied every single rule and wall that Tom had so carefully constructed with such reckless abandon, forcing your way into his life, his heart.

You look away as Professor Slughorn begins droning on to the class, and begin attentively scratching down notes, so absorbed in your work that you don't notice the way your desk mate steals glances at you.

Tom watches from afar, itching with the urge to reach out and wrap his hands around the boy's throat and strangle him till the life seeped out of his undeserving eyes that dared to look at you. He hated the idea of someone else seeing you, and wanting you, to the point where he was sure he’d only be satisfied if he could lock you away and keep you somewhere where only he could see you.

It wasn’t that he was scared you’d leave him, no no. Tom was certain that you couldn’t. His love for you (if you could class it as that) lingered in the spaces between your heartbeat, intertwining so seamlessly with your essence that to let go of him would be to unravel the very fabric of who you've become.

So no, he didn’t feel such a strong desire to keep you hidden because he was scared you'd leave him, but rather because he hated the idea of anyone laying their eyes on you. No one would ever be deserving enough of doing so, and the idea that some people (namely Jamie Grimshaw) had the audacity not just to look at you but to let their lustful gaze linger down to your thighs made him furious, ready to gouge their eyes out.

Stuck in his own mind, Tom snaps out of it when his gaze flickers over to you. He sees you working with diligence, and the suffocating feeling of anger subsides for a second. Your hard work, your drive, it was part of what made Tom fall for you. That, amongst many other things. Surprisingly, he found himself largely drawn to the way you got along with everyone (to an extent). Seemingly demure, you were polite and gentle. Something that would be of great benefit to him as well, for who better than to gain the trust of people than the girl beloved by all?

Then again, with everything that has its benefits, it also has its drawbacks. And that was what he was witnessing now, seeing you go along with Jamie’s flirting in an attempt to be polite. You tried to see the best in everyone and consistently denied the fact that Jamie was flirting with you, insisting that Tom was being irrational and overprotective whenever he’d approach you about it.

The second the lesson is over Tom is swiftly up and out of his seat, looming over your desk as you pack up. You look up at him and smile softly, a sweet gaze that disarms him ever so slightly.

“So, I was wondering whether you’d be free to-” Jamie starts.

Tom’s jaw clenches. How dare he? Such an insolent fool, thinking he had the right to speak to you.

Before you can even speak, Tom’s hand comes down to grab your arm and pull you slightly towards him, speaking up.

“No, she cannot. She will be busy tonight. And the night after that.” Tom says, a venom belying his tone as he drags you away.

He ignores your protests as you walk through the common room and up to his room, his grip on your arm tightening ever so slightly.

“Tom!” You protest, wrenching your arm out of his grip as he closes the door to his room, tossing his bag down as he turns to you.

"Tom, what was that back there?" you demand, your voice a mix of frustration and confusion.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he towers over you.

"I can't stand seeing him look at you like that," he says, his voice low and intense.

You take a step back. "Look at me like what?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Like he wants you," Tom replies, his eyes burning into yours. "Like he thinks he has the right to even think about you in that way."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Tom, he's just being friendly," you try to reason, but even to your own ears, your words sound feeble.

Tom's expression darkens, and you realize you've struck a nerve. "Friendly?" he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "There's nothing friendly about the way he looks at you. He wants something from you, something I won't allow him to have."

Tom steps even closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the fire in his eyes. "I'm not irrational," he murmurs, his voice softening ever so slightly. "I just can't bear the thought of anyone else having you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone forget that."

Your frustration subsides, and you let out a small sigh, leaning into his touch.

“No one else can have me, Tom. I'm yours.” You murmur, and a small smile tugs at his lips. He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss. His hands tilt your head back slightly, deepening the kiss as you sigh into his mouth, melting at his touch. He pulls away, and you look up at him, a fire ignited within you even after the briefest of touch. His thumb caresses your cheek lovingly before he pulls away, gazing at you with a mix of possessiveness and adoration.

“Good. Let’s do some work now” He mutters, eyes roaming over your face.

It was only the next day when Tom had thought the whole thing was over and done with, and you wouldn't have to deal with it again. He walks into the common room, expecting to find you sitting by the fireplace, reading a book.

You were there, but not alone. Jamie sat by you, his arm draped behind you on the sofa as he chatted to you, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Jamie, can I help you with something?" you ask, trying to sound polite but firm.

Jamie's smile widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Actually, I was hoping we could grab a butterbeer sometime?" he says, his voice low.

You laugh nervously.

“Maybe in a few days? I have to do some work right now and it’s-” You say, and Tom is furious, moving over to you.

"Jamie," he says, his voice tight with restrained anger, "I think it's best if you leave her alone. She's not interested."

Jamie's smile falters, but he quickly recovers, his tone mocking. "Oh, I'm sure she can speak for herself, Tom," he retorts, his eyes flickering with challenge.

Before Tom can respond, you intervene, feeling the tension between them escalating dangerously. "Tom, it's fine," you say, trying to diffuse the situation. "Jamie was just leaving."

Tom's jaw clenches, but he nods curtly, his gaze never leaving Jamie's. "See that you do," he says, his voice low and threatening.

With one last defiant look at Tom, Jamie gathers his things and makes a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Tom in the common room.

You shoot Tom a pointed look, silently demanding an explanation for his behaviour, but he merely gestures for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you fall into step behind him as he leads you up to his room, his pace brisk and determined.

Once inside, Tom slams the door shut behind you, his frustration boiling over.

Like a scene from a movie, this conversation is all too familiar, and all the more agitating.

"What were you thinking?" he demands, his voice laced with anger. "Talking to him like that, letting him get too close."

You bristle at his accusatory tone, your temper flaring up. "Excuse me? He just wanted to go out! Why must you assume everyone has bad intentions?” You scoff, and Tom feels his restraint slipping as he lets go of your arms, sighing angrily as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek.

“Honestly, I have to wonder whether you think sometimes. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he stares at your legs when you're in class? Do you know the disgusting things that go through his mind?” Tom says, harshly. You see his anger rising and begin to panic, not wanting it to spiral out of control.

“Tom, I promise you it wasn’t anything. He really just wanted a drink.” You reason, trying to diffuse the tension as you look up at him, placing a hand on his forearm. He looks down at you, anger still evident in his eyes.

Your phone pings, breaking the momentary silence. Your eyes flicker down to it, briefly glancing at the message on the screen. You curse internally, stomach dropping at who had messaged you. It was practically the worst time for them to have messaged. You slip the phone into your pocket, praying Tom won’t probe further.

“Look, Tom. He doesn’t-” You start, but your phone pings again, cutting you off, This time Tom most certainly notices, his eyes also flickering down to your pocket.

“Who’s messaging you?” He asks, as though he can sense your unease. You brush it off, just shaking your head.

“Oh, no one. Just Hannah asking for the homework.” You say, and Tom stares down at you, his gaze scrutinising for a second before he hums, taking a step back. You're partially grateful because if you can get away with this you can avoid the confrontation about Jamie as well. He turns to walk over to his desk and you turn around, going to get your books to join him. Just as you’re doing so, the sound of your ringtone fills the otherwise silent room.

Shit.

You hastily reach for your phone, fumbling with it as you decline the call, cursing. You slowly turn around and Tom is glaring at you, dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Seems like the work must be quite urgent if she has to call you as well. Why don't you pick up the phone?” Tom utters, voice strained as he looks over at you.

You laugh nervously, shaking your head as your phone begins ringing again. Jamie’s relentlessness was really beginning to annoy you, and you weren’t sure how on earth you'd explain this to Tom. The fact that Jamie was calling you would be enough to anger Tom, let alone the fact that you lied to him about it.

“Oh no, that’s just Hannah. Bit of a teacher's pet, she panics if she dares to miss a day of school because she was in the infirmary.” You say with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere slightly as you pray he stops calling you.

A chilling smirk tugs at Tom’s lips, a low laugh escaping his lips, a smile gracing his face. You let out the breath you were holding, thankful that he (by some miracle) bought into it as you also laughed, trying to move on from the topic as soon as possible.

“Pick up the damn phone,” he says suddenly, his voice eerily calm yet laced with a dangerous undercurrent.

The dread in your stomach multiplies tenfold, your smile fading as you take a step back.

“Tom-” You start, but he takes a step closer, hand finding its place on your jaw as he speaks again.

“Pick. up. the. Phone” He says, each word punctuated with a chilling intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on your jaw tightens slightly, his eyes boring into yours with an unnerving ferocity.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for your phone, your fingers trembling with apprehension. With a shaky breath, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper, anticipation gnawing at your nerves.

On the other end of the line, Jamie's voice comes through, smooth and confident. "Hey," he says, his tone casual. "Just wanted to see if you're free tonight. Thought we could grab that butterbeer we talked about."

Your pulse quickens, panic rising within you as you glance up at Tom, who is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, uhm-” You begin, a squeak escaping your lips as you feel Tom’s lips on your neck. Your eyes widen as you look down at him, dumbfounded.

“Carry on. Go ahead and speak to him.” He mutters against your neck, pressing kisses along the side.

“I- I uhm. I w-was… fuck” You stammer, a breath gasp escaping your lips as you desperately try and stifle any noises that threaten to escape your lips as Tom nips at the delicate skin on your neck, soothing it with his tongue.

He continues to pepper your neck with kisses, relishing in the way your body shivers under his touch.

His voice, husky and filled with dark amusement, interrupts your stammering. "Oh, what a shame. Seems like you're a little preoccupied at the moment," he taunts, his lips trailing lower to the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

He bites down gently, eliciting a gasp from you as you struggle to maintain your composure.

Tom's fingers creep up your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your blouse. His touch is possessive, his grip firm as he pulls you closer.

Your voice trembles as you try to regain control of the situation. "I-I'm sorry, Jamie, I can't... tonight," you manage to say, your words punctuated by a soft moan as Tom's lips find your earlobe, nipping at it playfully.

Tom chuckles darkly, his breath tickling your ear. "Tell him you're busy, darling," he whispers, his voice dripping with both amusement and dominance. His hand slides higher, squeezing your breast through the fabric of your bra, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch.

"J-Jamie, I... I can't. I-I have commitments after s-school," You stammer, your voice strained with a mix of pleasure and frustration. Tom's touch is maddeningly intoxicating, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on anything else.

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and Jamie's voice sounds disappointed. "Alright, no problem. Maybe another time then," he says, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. You let out a small whimper as he hangs up, tossing your phone to the side as a string of curses escapes your lips.

Tom, satisfied with his disruption, pulls back. His eyes glance over the myriad of purple bruises scattered all over your neck and chest.

“Good. I’ll make sure my name is the only one you’ll ever remember.” He utters.

Before you can respond, Tom pulls you into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own.

He manoeuvres you to the bed, not once breaking the kiss as your legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards onto the soft mattress. He lowers himself down over you, kissing you with fevour as he mutters.

“Mine, all mine.”

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @batmandabest @always-reading

[katerinaaqu]

Odysseus: Beloved by Athena

Gets hit by a boar who barely misses his bone and arteries. Is called to a 10 year war he never wished to be in and is being pushed by his peers do the most dirty work and traumatizing things. Single-handedly conquers a city and regrets it his whole life afterwards, spends 10 years in an arduous trip losing all his companions in the most nightmarish ways possible gets imprisoned and raped, enchanted and shipwrecked nearly loses his life and comes back to his house to find it full of thug princes who want to marry his wife and kill his son. He has to kill them all then prepare for a riot in his own kingdom that doesn't happen thankfully and then he will have to travel again to appease Poseidon before he can finally return home.

Diomedes: Beloved by Athena

Is orphaned at toddler/child age because his father was mortally wounded and in a moment of madness he performed cannibalism and Athena wasn't able to stop him. He is sworn revenge for his father since a child. He fights a war at a tender age he becomes a king of his own right and gets married probably before the age of 16. He fights another war to restore his grandfather to the throne. He is dragged to a 10 year long war where he plays central role and he is still pushed around by most his peers. He goes back to find his wife cheating on him and he is exiled of his own kingdom. He spends years in a foreign land and country founding cities and establishing hellenism before he is honored as a God.

Me: Athena, my girl...perhaps you should start worrying a bit LESS for your minions would ya?

[illustratedartist]

Jervis Tetch A.K.A The MAD HATTER 🎩🫖

OK So someone sent me an ask on here and unfortunately I can't find where it disappeared to-SO I'M VERY SORRY!

This person asked if I could make a reference sheet of my Hatter and share some headcanons, if I had any. I've never really done this before, or even had many headcanons so please bare with me lol. I didn't go into too much detail, Im not really a writer so I just tried to get the main points through.

Down The Rabbit Hole:

Has paranoid schizophrenia, and often hallucinates, especially when stressed. He mostly sees characters from Alice in Wonderland, seeing the Cheshire cat or “Alice” the most.

When very stressed or feel like hes losing control of a situation, he begins to stutter horribly. His words get jumbled in his mind, and thats when he starts reciting quotes or poems from AIW relevant to the situation hes in. Before he became the Mad Hatter, and became a criminal he stuttered constantly while speaking to anyone. 

 Jervis controls people by drugging and hypnotizing them, But the strongest form of mind control he has are the masks he puts on his “Guests”. 

For goons or regular street thugs he manages to get, he mostly uses cards on them instead of wasting materials to make masks for them. Figuring It would be easier than having Batman break them and forcing him to constantly  remake the same ones over and over. 

Also its a chance to call his thugs the “Card Guards” which amuses him.

His goons don’t matter much to him, but if he assigns you a specific character, you are highly important to his “Tea Parties” and are at risk of being forced to attend indefinitely.

 For his “Tea Party” guest list, he has crafted actual masks for them to wear, in correlation to the Character he assigned to each guest. He does make sure the guests are drugged with his special tea before putting the masks on them. Wouldn’t want to risk having you manage to break free of his control during the party! Or ever.

March Hare=Scarecrow, Dormouse= Riddler, White Rabbit= Ventriloquist, Cheshire Cat= Catwoman, The Dodo= Penguin, Mock Turtle= Mr.Freeze, Queen of Hearts= Poison Ivy, The Walrus= Bane, The Jabberwocky= Batman  

He customizes the masks so they even resemble the actual people.

His closest friends are Jonathan Crane, and Edward Nygma, his March Scare and Dorrat.

Jonathan was a psychologist so he knows how to handle Jervis, and can tolerate him for the most part. Edward on the other hand may think Jervis is a useful ally, but he's not nearly as patient with him as Jonathan is. Neither of them like being called by their "nicknames" Jervis gave them.

Jervis fell in love with the woman he had been working with, before he became a criminal, that put everything into motion. Her actual name wasn't Alice, but they both bonded over their fondness for the story, and he started to call her Alice as a fun nickname or inside joke. Though his obsession with her had already begun.

After losing it, and becoming a criminal and kidnapping "Alice" he was defeated by Batman, (Much like how it happened in BTAS). "Alice" fled Gotham after this, but Jervis doesn't know that, and is too far gone to realize that she would leave him. SO he roams the streets of Gotham looking for his beloved "Alice".

OK THAT'S IT! At least these were all I could think of. Obviously my Jervis is heavily based off the Arkham series and BTAS. But I love this little crazy guy.

[supershot73199]

Hello I am back with the next of my Batfam react to Danny killing Joker story's. This one is set in the same au as my Dawn's Big Daddy story though i haven't decided if it will be canon to that story yet. Story under the read more.

There will be a bit of a graphic description in this one so gore warning here

Cass was simultaneously pissed and terrified. Not for herself of course but for her ballet students. The Joker and his thugs took the entire class and their parents hostage and with so many kids Cass knew trying to fight could result in dead children and she left her emergency beacon in her office changing room.

When the thugs finished taking them to the warehouse where the Jokers latest scheme would take place she, the kids and any mothers were taken to a massive cage where they were locked in, while any fathers were taken and had been handcuffed to chains connected to electronic winches, including her boyfriend Danny.

Normally Cass wouldn't be worried about her boyfriend as he was a excellent fighter and had a ghost form that was of a comparable power level to heroes like Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, and of course Superman. However with the number of hostages he would not act rashly, instead waiting for an opportunity where he can act with minimal to no risk for the innocents.

But their captor was the Joker, an unhinged clown who enjoyed the pain of others and who was unpredictable enough to stump world class detectives like her family. He would not hesitate to torture or even kill one of the kids if he had the whim cross his mind and he had pretty good reflexes so it would be hard to guarantee no hostages would be in danger before they act.

Cass felt her rage and fear bleed out when she felt a small hand grab hers for comfort. Dawn was Danny's daughter, the light of his life, the single most important thing in his life, and honestly she was quickly becoming the same thing for Cass. Even though she loved Danny and he loved her they both knew that if it came down to a choice to save only one of them they would each save Dawn first. (Hypothetically at least. Cass knew they would just save both in reality because they were good enough to or would get backup that would allow them too.)

"I'm scared." Whispered the young girl. Cass quickly scooped her up in a hug before softly comforting her.

"It's OK Your Daddy is strong he won't let this clown hurt him or us."

"I know that. Daddys the strongest there is but what if one of my friends get hurt?" Cass couldn't stop the soft grin at the faith in her father that the little girl had.

"Because he's the strongest means he won't let anyone get hurt." Cass responded with conviction. Before Dawn gave a accepting nod.

"OK I believe in Daddy."

Before Cass could say anything else the Joker ordered his men out of the room as they finished handcuffing the last of the fathers. Danny was front and center and Cass couldn't help notice the look of defiance in his eyes. The Joker as soon as the last of his men had left to their guard positions turned on a camera before stepping back and speaking with his usual cheer.

"Hello Gotham, it's your favorite Clown Prince of Crime here and today I have some special guests with us today. You might recognize a few of them. Why it's none other the Bruce Wayne's only daughter and her pretty little boytoy!! They've been all over the news recently and in case you've been living under a rock recently they have been called Gothams cutest couple. So you just know I had to give them my congratulations."

As the Joker was monologing he picked up the camera and used it to focus on Danny and Cass respectively though Cass had put herself between Joker and Dawn, which gave the clown a sick pleasure, she could see it in his posture.

"Now as for our performance tonight we have a group of loving fathers and their beloved children and wives in our audience. Batsy here's what's going to happen, you and your brood are going to have to find my men hidden all around Gotham with cannisters of my Laughing Gas. When you find them my men will let me know and you will have sixty seconds to defeat my men and disable the release trigger, if you fail well..."

As the Joker trailed off he pressed a button that activated the winches pulling the men until they were all hanging off the floor without their feet touching the ground.

"I will kill one of these fathers infront of their wives and children, and don't even think about cheating because if my guys see you on this camera before their bombs been disabled they will trigger it remotely. Better hurry Batman I don't think shoulders can hold that much weight for very long!" The Joker let out a mad cackle before he was interrupted.

"So now your a gameshow host? I thought you were the clown prince of crime." Danny brave beautiful Danny taunted the Joker who stopped and walked closer.

"Well I'm a Clown of many talents and in my eternal quest to bring more smiles to Gotham I have to branch out from typical clown behavior." Cass could see the irritation in the Jokers body language, he hates being questioned after all.

"Still couldn't you have picked a different suit? You always wear the same thing. Variety is the spice of life after all." Danny continued to antagonize Joker.

The Joker stepped closer to Danny still not quite close enough for Danny's plan though.

"As if your one to talk. Look at you!" Cass wasn't sure what Joker meant by that as Danny was dressed in form fitting exercise clothes meant for dancing, as they had been about to have a class when the Joker showed up. Maybe he's jealous of Danny's muscles?

"I was kidnapped with no warning from a dance class, you had the benefit of planning this and having time to prepare. Admit it you just got lazy and didn't want to put in the effort to look good for your scheme." Danny once again acted to antagonize the clown. Who finally stepped right up to where Danny was hanging while ranting at him.

"How dare you claim I didn't put in the effort! My look is iconic and if you can't see greatness maybe I should use your daughter as an exam-urgk." The Joker was cut off and Danny swung his legs up to wrap them around the Jokers neck. Unfortunately the Jokers reflexes kicked in causing him to start ducking leaving Danny to have his thighs around the Jokers head rather than his neck. Thankfully the sudden jerk from Danny hitting the Joker caused him to drop the gun he had been pulling out of his coat.

Cass watched as the two struggled in a stalemate, Danny couldn't shift his legs enough to get them around the Jokers neck to choke him into unconsciousness and the Joker was unable to get free from Danny's vice like leg lock. Cass realized that unless her family showed up immediately then the Joker would eventually slip free and go after Dawn.

As she realized what had to happen Cass noticed as Danny's body language showed he came to the same conclusion. The couple shared a look of understanding. Cass would never have considered this before and if there was any other way she wouldn't be considering it now. But even with his powers there isn't really another solution as the Joker holds a grudge.

"Turn around class face away, even you Dawn." Cass said quickly acting to make sure the children didn't see what came next, the mothers and older students quickly following her lead.

"I'm scared momma." Cass started quickly bending down to hug Dawn again. Cass didn't think she realized what she actually said and in a way it made it more special to her, which filled her heart with love and resolve.

As soon as all the younger students were facing the wall Cass nodded to Danny who immediately shifted his legs one more time before Cass saw his muscles clench. There was a muffled sound where the Jokers mouth was pressed against Danny's thigh, that Cass couldn't tell if it was a laugh or scream. She watched as he clawed at Danny desperately trying to get loose until with a sickening crack and squelch he went limp, as his head was crushed between Danny's thighs like that watermelon Cass had crushed on a dare from Steph.

She looked on with disgust as pieces of the Jokers brain and skull stuck to the man she loved. The spray from the crush had covered Danny and she could see him struggling to not throw up.

"That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen." Cass head snapped to the teenage girl who said that. Said girl quickly grew a massive blush.

"What? We were all thinking it. I wonder how long until someone makes a gif online from that livestream."

Cass blinked in bafflement as the other girls agreed even if they felt it shouldn't be said out lound to the girl before remembering that this was being broadcast live. Which meant all of Gotham saw what just happened.

It was only a little while later when her family finally showed up that she realized that Barbara and Jason would probably be two of the people making it into a gif and she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. At least she got confirmation that the child she loved as her own daughter felt the same way about her.

[dark-night-hero]

「We found love」 Kamisato Ayato

↳ In which as fate lead the two of you together, an unfamiliar yet strangely warm feelings starts to grew on both of you leading you two to find something that you had never felt before. But then again, what could fate possibly lead you two when you are leagues apart.

Ayato was bored, annoyed and is quietly disgusted. The smell of body odors and the strong smell of flowery fragrance that tried to hide it was unpleasant to his nose. The constant shattering around him that makes the corner of his lips thug down if it was not for his good sense of control in his facial expression. He constantly, though not in anyones watch, shift on his seat. He does not like anything here at all, if it was not such profitable deal he would not have come here at all. And now that the deal have finally been sealed, there was nothing left but to enjoy the presence of the courtesan that entered the room as soon as the deal was done.

Ayato never liked it on brothels. In the first place, he rarely went into one, and even if he did, that was because of his retainers choosing it as a meetin place, in which never happened again by the way. And some for importsnt meetings like this that he cannot refuse. Ayato never saw nor think of any reasons to go to one. Recalling the constant reminder of his late father not to be involved in such things. There is nothing good that would come into him if he were to get involved and get into brothels. A place where nothing but temporary temptation and pleasure there is to come that might drove someone into their own demise once out of control.

Ayato was just about to leave, seemed to be done for today as he stood up when he was grabbed by the wirst of his hand by his business partner. It took him all of his facial muscles to keep the smile on his face as we asked, "What's the matter?" The man just smiled at him, his free hand warping around the oiran, considered to be a high rank courtesan, and bringing her close to him. "Don't leave yet, Mr. Kamisato. The main show is just about to start." Just as Ayato was about to refuse politely, the door opened gently, and the first thing that Ayato noticed was the smell of spring filling the room. It was not that strong smell of flowers that he had smelled earlier but the smell of spring, the smell of blossoms, the sweet and air smell of perfume fills the air.

The second thing he noticed was the sparkly ornaments all over the hair and elegant kimono that they were wearing. And then the kitsune mask that they were wearing, hiding away their face from anyones sight. "Ren Sakura?!" The man beside him utter in disbelief as the figure elegantly walks in, in their hand was a string instrument. She walks in a stead phases of that of a noble, no, perhaps she walks even more of a noble than by far all the nobles Ayato have seen. Ayato watches with curiosity, eyes never once looking away now that you have caught his interest, watching you sit down gracefully and set up your instrument to your liking. "Apologies our dear guest, Hanahime, my beloved oiran could not make it tonight. In return, I hope you would not mind me filling in on her behalf."

In that split secons, Ayato felt like the two of you looked at each other. "Of-of course! Who would dare rejects to be in the presence of you, a tayu, Ren Sakura?!" A tayu? As far as Ayato could remember, oiran was considered a high courtesan, and right above that was a tayu, the highest class courtesan known to entertain only the nobility and emperial court, in short, the almighty shogun. "I'm glad that is the case." The masked tayu giggles, "Then, I shall play a familiar piece befitting for tonights gathering." Once again, Ayato felt like his eyes met those that were behind the mask.

Ayato thought it was a bad idea, after all. He does not like brothels. The place, the smell, the people in general. It would be the last place you would ever expect him to be found. And yet there he is, asking for a familiar name that seemed to be coming out of everyone's mouth but only a few get to really see. Ren Sakura, Ayato knew it was not their real name. Most of the courtesan in here has a name that they use and not their real name. And for someone who rarely went and vowed not to long ago that he would never set foot in here again, he was quite knowledgeable. Even he does not fully know why he was here, whether it was the smell, the mask, the way they played the instrument or even the way they giggle, Ayato does not know which one to choose.

But if there is one thing for sure is that you have caught his interest and nothing could stop himself from finding more about you. Though one of the main reason why he chooses to go back in here was to prove to himself that nothing good would come out of here. It was just a passing interest, it would not last long, right? Once again, the door slide open and the scent of spring enters the room. With no hint of hurry, Ayato raise his head to look at you who was quietly and gently entering the room. Once again, you were wearing a kitsune mask. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mister." You bow to him, raising your hands together along the process as you bow your hands. "Is there anything you would like me to do?"

Kamisato Ayato was honestly the last man you would expect to be your client for the night. But then again given his status in life, it would not hurt his pocket to afford you for the night. Still, glancing at him underneath your mask, his beauty was just like what you have heard from your fellow courtesan. He looks a lot like a gentleman, his aura radiating of that of a highest noble but his fake smile tells something else. Just what does this guy want from you? You doubt he was the kind of person who actually comes into a brothel for pleasure, in the first place, you bet many female nobles would actually wanted to be- to die just to be in the arms of his man right in front of you. "Do you know how to play shogi?" He asked and you halted for a moment. "Yes I do, I shall go and set up for us."

"I... lost." Ayato utter in disbelief, back straightening as he looks at the board pieces with wide eyes before looking at you. You who was smiling underneath your mask after managing to finally defeat him after five close matches of shogi between the two of you. "If you have not make a mistake during the first five move then perhaps I wouldn't have beaten you Mister." You chuckle, once again setting uo the pieces back in their starting place, once again serving the commissioner another cup of tea in which he gladly took a sip. "You gave yourself a little credit. Not to brag but no one has ever come close into defeating me and you actually did that five times and really did beat me one match." This time it was his turn to chuckle.

When the Kamisato Ayato left that day, you never thought to see him again. But you did, once in a while, you did. And you are not sure fi you are glad he did. Maybe it was the sense of boredom that you are feeling due to the lack of customers that were actually availing you for their entertainment, then again, you could only have your price to blame for being so expensive that it might even cause them half of their yearly income for you to be on their presence.

Kamisato Ayato, or Ayato like he told you to call him when the two of you were in each other presence was quite an unpredictable young man. There were times were we would came in the brothel only for you to watch him sleep, playing the flute for him as a lullaby. In most of the cases, he would be in here to ppay shogi with you, bringing over some unique beverage and foods that is tasting weird most of time. But there would also be one of those rare days where he would just bring his leftover paperworks to the brothel and do it there, leaving you to fill up the tea cup that he has just consume and sometimes, he would let you handle some of his paperworks, entertaining the basic questions of the papers that he had assigned to you. Nevertheless, for someone whom rarely set foot out the brothel, you only have to thank him for the things that he would often get to you. If there is one thing that remains the same though would be the fact that Ayato has never seen you without your kitsune mask.

"Will there ever be a day where I get to see your face?" Ayato asked out of the blue as he lay his head on your lap as you hummed a lovely tune underneath your mask. And then by his question, you stop. "Did the madam not tell you?" You asked him. "If you're willing to pay the price, that is." You chuckle when you felt his finger traces all the way from the back of your ears down into your chin. You halted for a moment, before you relax. The feeling of your beating heart in yor chest was getting harder and harder to ignore the more time you spent with him. It was actually dangerous.

You always warn yourself not to get too attach with your clients. In the first place there is any room for attachment because you knew they only want something from you. The way they would look at you with such lustful eyes always leave a bittersweet feeling on your tongue, so you only have yourself to thank that you manage to price yourself up as a tayu. Whom unlike oiran is not for the work of pleasure. You are mostly for entertainment. Then again, due to your high price, only those with the highest class individuals get to afford you to be in their presence. And even if they did, you were only to attend gathering to perform. Unlike Ayato who seemingly spent his free time with you and you do not know how to make something out of it. You felt like there is something going on between the two of you but you yourself was quite afraid to accept it. Because somewhere deep in your heart you alreay know that you had fallen for him. But you also know that nothing good will come out of it.

Ayato on the other hand has his mind in the midst of chaos. Ayato was in love with you. That was truth. It's been over a year ever since he irst met you. And he could still remember the day he realised he was in love with you. You see, Ayato was a meticulous, cunning and a mysterious person. A man who would do anything to achieve his goals and eliminate anything that were to stand in the way of his family. The same man who once in a while would felt a huge amount of fatigue. Maybe it was all due to his paperworks or maybe because of during those times the conflict of opinions between his retainers just would not subdued. Or maybe the fact that his parents death anniversary was approaching. He just felt tired and exhausted.

That night, all those months ago. Ayato find himself on his way on the familiar path to the brothel, just like usual, wearing his robe that hide away most of his figures underneath, in the night of his parents date of passing. That night, Kamisayo Ayato find himself seeking to be in your arms. You have quite the wit, and your intelligence was second to none. Ayato have never seen your face, but to be honest that is something he cared about. That night, Ayato just remained in silence as he listen to you playing the string instrument. He just sat there staring at you in silence that is when you sense that something was wrong. "Is there something bothering you?" You asked, setting the instrument down as you stood up and approached him. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you do not want to talk about it." You utter as you sat down beside him.

That night, the two of you just sit there on silence, your hand above his as he lean in head on your shoulder. It was nothing but an act of comfort, yet that simple act seemingly touched the depths of his heart as he cane to realize one thing before he fell asleep in your arms that night. "Take a rest hmmm Ayato." As fatigue slowly takes over him, he felt himself being gently laid in the mattress and in those split moment, his lavender iris met with a pair of (eye color) ones before everything went black. In the following morning, Ayato find himself all alone in the room, feeling new as ever. Still he felt like something was missing, so he woke up and was about to leave when something caught his eyes. It was a letter saying. "I have told the others to prepare you a breakfast before you leave, but feel free to leave if you're in a hurry." Then he laugh, he laughs then fold the paper and kept in the pocket right within this chest, close to his heart. Right, the moment when he felt like you were his one and only solace, he knew he was in love with you. He knew you were the one for him.

And yet he was contemplating which is only natural. He was a man with noble bloodline, he is the current head of the Kamisato clan, and the current commissioner of the Yashiro commission. He was one of the faces of Inuzama. A well known bachelor and is expected to be wed with a fellow noble blood, one of the prettiest and elegant among the rest. What would his retainers- the citizens say if he were to be fall for someone like you. Although you were the highest along the courtesan, in most cases Nobles only see courtesan as their pass time and play thing. Ayato knew you were different, you are not just a courtesan in his eyes, you are more than a play thing to him. Ayato wanted you, he was in love with you after all. But if the price of his love would cause such scandal, such ruin in his- their image. Would his love remains the same?

Ayato find himself visiting the brothel less and less, telling you advance he would be busy and would not be able to visit for a while. You would reply at him with a laugh, joking letting him now you would not be having someone too entertain you for a while. Ayato knew you were rarely seek out due to your high price. Maybe that was the reason why he was so relaxed. He knew that no matter what, you would be in there, waiting. Be waiting for him to come. Even if you do not love him, he might be a friend at least to you, right?

Weekly visits turn into trice a month, then turn into monthly visit. This visit started going less and less until he visits you twice in every three months. Ayato thought that that would lessen the feelngs he felt for you. But no, in fact, it grew stronger. His longing for you intensified and yet you remained the same, giving him the same enthusiasm and welcome wheneverhe come back. He does not know it he should be hurt of revealed.

And then one night, you started being affectionate than you usually do. Dropping hints here and there. Being all over touchy. And man, he was barely hanging on a thread. And so he pulls away, grabbing your hand that was inside his shirt. "Wai-" "Do you not want this?" You asked, masked still in face. "I-" Holding your hand, he realised that you were trembling, your hands were trembling. Suddenly he became aware of one fact, you were holding back too. And is ready to withdraw with one single word from him. With a moment of silence he opened his mouth, "Do you, want this?" He asked, letting go of your hand as both hands fell to his side. And when he say you nod. His hands unconsciously went towards your mask. You did not move, you just let him pull the string that is holding your mask before it falls off the ground.

There his eyes widen as he got to take a look at your face for the first time. Your (eye color) eyes looks more mesmerising than he imagined it to be, those lips, those lips that were curled up into a beautiful smile. Without thinking much about. Ayato grabbed you on the nape of your neck and pull you into a deep and hungry kiss. It was as if he was starving, starving for a very long time in which he did. He might not have admit it but he was waiting, fantasising for this night to come. It was night full of unsaid words and feelings and yet the way the two of you hold each other says it all. "Stay for the night?" "I will."

Ayato was the one who left first when the morning come. To him, that night was not a mistake, at the same time. It was a night that is to be buried on the back of his mind. It was the same night he, the two of you realised that the two of you were leagues apart. A love that could only be kept in the dark, away from the world to see. In a coincidence, Ayato was not able to visit the brothel in the following days and weeks due to the following festival to come at the time. Thus it is only natural that he was unaware of the things that were happening within the brothel.

"Have you heard? A high ranking courtesan has been bought from the Hōkōtei?" Ayato did not mean to eavesdrop, but was not that the name of the brothel you work ay? "Huh?" "Yeah it's true, they have been bought a month ago but the news were just spreading because an official tried to spend a night with them recently but it turns out they were long gone from the list of courtesan from the brothel." "That sounds impossible, just how rarely were they were-" "It's Ren Sakura! Of course only a few coould afford Ren Sakura! Do you know that the cost of spending a match of shogi with themm would cost a yeat of our earnings? What more was a night with them?! Argh! Just how much were they b-" "What did you say?" "Huh- oh! Yashiro Com-" "What did you say?" "Hu-uh?" "Tell me everything. Now."

Ayato never run. He was a man with elegance, you would never see him run in which dishevelled manner. And yet here he was, sweat rolling down his chin, clothes dishevelled, hair in a mess as he pant heavily in front of the familiar brothel, people who seemed to recognise him started whispering with each other and yet he did not give a damn about every single thing instead, stromed inside the brothel, to be specific, into the room of the owner, the madam. "Where were they?" He asked as soon as he saw the familiar madam who was casually smoking with a pipe in hand and then his lavender ones met with a pair of violet ones. "I'm afraid I cannot disclose the location of my client, Yashiro Commissioner." She laughed as if mocking him. "Where-" "They waited for you for years, at being said, I suppose its natural that if you won't make a move, someone else would. Do you think that they would just sit still and wait for you every single time?" His lavander iris tremble upon the madam statement. "In the first place, you were never interest in buying them. Why are you getting so worked up like they were stolen from you?" "You never plan to take responsibility for my child because you two were leagues apart, they were just a courtesan and you're a noble. The two of you were never meant to, isn't that right?" Every words that left her- the madam's mouth felt like a dagger stabbing his heart. Because it was true.

"Get out of my pavilon and never set foot in here every again." "Mada-" "Do I have to drag you out myself? Kamisato Ayato?" Her piercing violey eyes bore before him. "You brought this upon yourself, stop looking like you just lost the love of your life when they surely meant nothing to you and oh- here. Wear this and this." He felt numb, whether it was his heart of his body. He felt numb. So following the madam words, he left upon wearing the robe that was given to him. He felt like his body was moving on its own, his mind was foggy, he wanted to cry at the same time he could not. "My lord- are you alright?" "I'll be in my room, Thoma. Thank you."

Inside his room, Ayato sat in front of his shogi board and started playing alone, moving the pieces by himself doing the moves you would often does. In the end, he find himseld loosing in his own game. And so he laugh, he laughed as tears roll down his cheecks. Teeth grinning as he felt mad, mad to himself for lying, lying to himself. For being selfless, for losing the love of his life so easily. He angrily throw away the shogi board to the side, scattering its pieces all over this room as he stood up. He then proceed to remove his robe that was given by the madam back in the brothel. He was about to trow it too when his hands was pierced by something. On the robes pocket was a hair piece ornaments. But then again, he mad. About to throw the piece of ornaments into the ground with his bloody hand until he realised how familiar looking it was and his eyes widen. It was your hair ornament. The one he have seen you often wear. "This.." Then he found a letter.

It was not that long until silence once again field the room followed by sobs. "I'm sorry." He cried. "I was a fool, I'm sorry." The letter was slowly crumbling on the palm of his hand as he pull it closer to his chet as well as the piece of ornament. As if doing such thing would bring you close to him. "I love you." He utter in helplessness. "I love you..." He cried. But it was already too late, for you have already went away. Far within his sight to see, far within his arms to reach.

My Ayato,

Funny how you're "my" Ayato when you're not.

I thought we found love.

But perhaps that was just me, for the moment when I woke up in the morning, you were no where in sight. It was such a shame. I thought we had something. Turns out I was just being delusional. After all, how could a noble like you fall for a mere courtesan like me.

Still, I am grateful for the times we have spend together. I will treasure those moments deep within my heart.

I am glad that my first time was with you, my one and only love.

Come to think of it, I never told you my name, no? Then again, what would be the use when we sould never see each other again? But still, I still want you to know it.

My name is (First name). I doubt you'll remember it though.

Then, I apologise that I have to leave without saying anything I am afraid even if I did, nothing would change. If it wasn't the case, you have long take me away from this place. But you never did.

Your Lovely courtesan, Ren Sakura.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: late na ko fuck, bye.

[kierewrites]

What Would Karma Do... when you get kidnapped on your school trip? / pt. 2

navi - masterlist

Karma Akabane x Reader

Mood Song: house of balloons / glass table girls

Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.

Warnings: kidnapping, depictions of violence, cursing, kidnappers are pervs, this is my attempt at getting out of my writers block rut :')

"Nagisa! Sugino! Karma!"

The cries seemed to echo through the boy's minds as reality slowly seeped its way back to them. None of them seemed to remember what happened until they felt the sharp pain overcome their bodies from the attack.

All Karma could hear was the sound of your voice. Crying, whimpering, screaming his name in a desperate plea for him to help you, and yet he let you slip from his grasp.

Just like that.

Now all that was left for him to think about was what those thugs were doing to you, or where the hell they could have even taken you? For all he knew, the three of you could be dead by now and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

It seemed surreal that just earlier in the day you were cuddled up next to him on the train, your small hand enlaced with his own. Now who knew what those filthy pigs were doing with you.

As the other boys slowly rose from their weakened positions, they seemed to notice Karma's… sour mood, to say the least. The redhead’s breathing was ragged, his fists clenched in a furious tremble. Nagisa glanced over to Sugino who shared a concerned look, the two debating on how they should confront the ticking time bomb.

"Karma it's okay, we'll get them-"

Before Nagisa could finish his words of encouragement, a raged scream poured from Karma's lips before his fist collided with the wall beside him, the crack of bone against the brick structure echoing throughout the alleyway.

"DAMN IT!"

Both boys remained still after this, their hearts sinking at the sight of their normally confident friend being torn apart from the inside. Nagisa had never seen Karma so furious, usually he kept up his assured facade even in challenging situations. 

"Are you doing okay Sugino?" Nagisa questioned, checking in on the less aggressive target first. After receiving a thumbs up, Nagisa sat up a bit more before shifting his gaze over to his troubled friend.

"Karma?"

Once his name was spoken, the redhead turned his head to the side, the sight sending chills through Nagisa's body. He was smiling.

"I think it's safe to assume those guys were pretty hardcore," Karma stated simply, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck slowly, "We could go to the cops, except those guys are the type who know their way around the system... which is fine."

Sugino and Nagisa both felt uneasy about Karma's sudden change in mood, his last words sounding awfully menacing, even for Karma. Before they could question it, the redhead finally looked up from behind his arm with the most ominous expression Nagisa had seen in awhile. 

"Cause I'm the type who likes to handle these things personally, if you know what I mean."

Sure enough, both boys knew exactly what he meant. Karma wasn't the type who got beaten easily, so to be on the losing side of an attack like this most definitely put a damper on his ego. But then to go and take his friends and girlfriend? Nagisa could only imagine the unparalleled rage Karma was feeling.

"Okay dude..." Sugino muttered while holding his arm against his aching stomach, "How do we even find them?"

Karma remained silent at this, Nagisa glancing over to Sugino while deep in thought until it came to him. Those dictionary-like guides Korosensei gave to everyone… Shuffling to his feet, Nagisa darted to his bag and lugged the giant book to the other three boys.

"Korosensei said this thing is filled with any scenario possible, there's gotta be something in here to help us!"

Karma glanced over in interest, Sugino's face lighting up as he crawled next to Nagisa while flipping through pages.

"Let's see... cheering yourself up your lonely self after seeing a lovey dovey couple... where to find cheap Kyoto soup and cheap local boutiques... this thing literally has every scenario!"

Nagisa chuckled slightly at a few of them, Korosensei really knew how to lift the mood in every situation. It honestly felt like the teacher was right there reading it with them.

"There it is! What to do when a group member has been abducted!" Nagisa shouted, both boys looming over to read the pages of information on this given scenario, "Holy crap so much detail... this has everything we need!"

Sugino nodded, a smile finally spreading across his lips along with Karma. Though unlike Sugino, Karma's smile had a more ominous glint to it as he cracked his knuckles.

"Let's go kick some old man ass."

-

The moment you woke up, every single memory flooded into your head. 

Not even bothering to take in your surroundings, you just whispered Karma's name, tears brimming at the tips of your lashes as images from the traumatic experience swarmed your mind. How could these thugs be so cruel?

The sound of your two friends stirring beside you seemed to snap you out of your horrifying trance. It was then you soaked in the building you were in. Almost with movie-like accuracy, it seemed you had been brought to some dirty abandoned warehouse. The room was large, filled with metal scraps and old wooden boxes, with the odd exception of a few pieces of dingy furniture laying around.

Glancing down, your nose scrunched upon realizing you were placed on one of the few decrepit couches displaced around the room, the creases of the old fabric filled with a dark moldy substance.

It was then that you realized you were much better kempt yourself. Your school attire had far lost uniform as the attire laid untucked and discolored with a mix of likely sweat and dirt. There wasn’t a single thing making you feel any less sick to your stomach.

The most you were able to communicate with Kayano and Kanzaki was ensuring they were both alright, which luckily all of you appeared to be uninjured with the exception of your arms being tied behind your backs.

Before you could say much else, a few men entered the dark room. You recognized most of them from the initial kidnapping, the group apparently not being very large. The men mostly just belittled all of you, telling the three of you that you were going to have a fun little “photoshoot”, and threatening that nobody would hear your screams, as a reminder to not even bother.

They always say when you experience your first traumatic experience, your brain almost becomes delirious because it’s not sure how to respond. Not sure if it’s really happening. Apparently those facts are true, your mind scrambling on how to feel or react.

Before you could think much of it, one of the men called out Kanzaki, showing the three of you a picture of her at an arcade, clearly from years ago. Your occasional glances at the raven haired girl confirmed she wasn’t proud of the memory forcibly being shown, her solemn face grimacing at the images.

After they discussed their eerily evasive knowledge of Kanzaki’s past, the men left to go talk amongst themselves while waiting for this “photographer” to show up.

"Not gonna lie, it's kind of comforting to know even you went through a faze," Kayano admitted with a soft smile, "Never would've imagined..."

Nodding in agreement you turned your head to Kanzaki, "Yeah, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, you pulled the look off well!"

Kanzaki lowered her head and sighed as you both tried to cheer her up, mumbling a thanks before looking at the two of you. 

"Yeah.. My dad was crazy strict, always on me about doing well in school and building up my resume..." Kanzaki explained, both you and Kayano frowning at her words, "It was so.. suffocating, you know?"

Kayano nodded, a pitiful chuckle escaping your own lips.

"I totally understand, my parents may not be as strict, but it’s only because I’ve never let my grades slip. The pressure of it all is so overwhelming at times." You admitted.

Kanzaki nodded quickly at you with sparkling eyes, as if you had just read her mind.

"Exactly! I just couldn't deal!" Kanzaki exclaimed before frowning once more, "So.. I ditched the uniform, glammed myself out and.. hanged where nobody knew who I was. It felt like therapy.. It was so stupid. Where did I expect to end up, right? It's E Class for me... but now I don't even know where I belong anymore..."

Kanzaki’s confession left you and Kayano to stare at the floor in deep thought. Being the school’s idol, you assumed Kanzaki would’ve never had such experiences growing up.

Just as you were going to attempt to cheer the poor girl up, the sound of footsteps snapped you all from your conversation, a new wave of dread filling your cores.

"Sounds to me like you would be right at home with us! Grades and all that pointless bullshit don't mean jack here." The man hissed with narrowed eyes, "We eat those rich kid scums for breakfast, nothing's sweeter than knocking those stuffed shirts down a peg or two."

Narrowing your eyes at the man's words, you glanced over at another thug who followed after.

"The only thing that matters is having a little fun right?"

Their words had your brows knit together in annoyance. Could one genuinely think so highly of themselves as to make a living off of harassing others that are trying to do good for themselves?

Before you could respond, Kayano seemed to mirror your thoughts, her face darkening as she muttered three words that she would probably regret.

"You're a jerk."

Suddenly the disgusting grin the man once wore faded, your body going numb in fear of what he would do next. Sure enough he lifted Kayano from the couch by the collar of her uniform with an angry growl, "I see how it is! Little miss perfect thinks she's better than me!"

The sight of Kayano sobbing and trying to jerk herself out of the man’s grasp had your blood boiling in anger. What gave these men the right to treat you like this?

After everything you've been through, there was no reason why you should be sitting around and letting all of this happen. For so long you've been living in fear, but enough is enough. You had already lost Karma... you would be damned if you lost anyone else too.

"Let her go!" You shouted, wobbling yourself up so you were sitting on your knees.

All eyes fell on you now, the man holding Kayano freezing before narrowing his eyes down to you.

"Oh but of course, how could I forget about you?"

Suddenly your breath hitched as the man dropped Kayano haphazardly onto the grungy couch. The surge of confidence you had now vanished as the man began to close in on you like a predator does their prey.

"I knew right from the start when I saw you on the train, I just had to have you..." The man sneered, bending down before you as his hands began to play with your hair, "Foreign school girls are highly expensive you know, tell me where you're from, yeah?"

Furrowing your brows you clenched your teeth as you felt him grope at your sides, your feeble attempt to shake him off only ended in him gripping your chin harshly causing you to wince in pain.

"I asked you a question sweetheart."

"(Country)." You muttered through grit teeth, keeping your glare locked on him as he laughed boisterously as if this was the best thing he heard all day.

"You hear that boys? We got a (Country) girl here! We're about to be rich!" The man boomed, the sick men behind him sneering at you as you shriveled yourself up against the back of the couch.

“Oh don't cower away now, doll.” The man cooed, grabbing your shirt and pulling you back to the edge of the couch, "Don’t look so scared, we’ll treat ya real well… hell I may even keep you with how much you’re worth.”

Those were the words that truly shook you, the confidence you once had fully vanished as you felt your mouth go dry. The thought of never seeing your friends again... your family… Karma? Tears began to glisten in your eyes again, threatening to spill.

The man only grinned at your response, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he grabbed your chin once more, “Don’t cry on me sweetheart, that’s only going to entice-”

In a fit of desperate anger, you decided to shut the man up the only way you could. Moving your head back out of his grasp, you quickly latched your teeth around his finger and clenched them as hard as you could.

In seconds he jumped back from you, a loud howl escaping his lips as he rubbed his now bleeding finger before looking at you with widened eyes.

"D..Did you just bite me you crazy bitch?!"

Furrowing your brows you screamed as loud as you could, begging anyone for help. Begging and praying that someone was nearby to hear you. Kayano and Kanzaki caught on with your idea, screaming alongside you in hopes of someone hearing the shrill screams.

Whether someone heard you or not, the stunt you pulled seemed to prove useless as the seething man before you looked at you with crazed eyes. Midscream, you felt your body being lifted into the air, the harsh grasp around your neck silencing any noise you attempted to make.

The sound of your friends crying your name made your body shiver, the sight surely not a pretty one to see as all you could do was shake and tremble in his hold.

"How do you like that, huh bitch? If you're going to bite and scream like a dog, then I'll fucking treat you like one!"

His words would’ve stung more had you not been fighting for consciousness, the tears once brimming at your lashes were now rushing down your cheeks as you gasped for air. Any attempt at getting the ropes untied from your wrists proved useless.

It wasn’t until your complexion neared a pale purplish hue that the man finally released you, throwing your limp body onto the couch with a thud. You felt yourself fall into the laps of Kayano and Kanzaki, their desperate whispers of reassurement falling on deaf ears as you gasped for air in between coughs.

"When we're done here you go back to whatever fancy hotel you're in and tell whoever asks that you were just out singing karaoke and lost track of time," The man instructed with narrowed eyes before glaring at you, "Except for you, little brat. I was considering letting your little friends buy your freedom, but after all the trouble you've put me through, you'll never see the light of day again."

The purely sick laughter of the man echoed around the room, the sound sending fear through all of you as one of the metal doors clicked open.

"Speak of the devil.." The man said, noticing the door open as well, "My photographer buddies are here!"

Though your vision was still fairly blurred, you were able to glance up at the door to notice a tuft of orange hair. The only issue was that the bright locks were nearly dragging against the ground. As the figure made its way from the shadows, it was revealed that he wasn’t awake at all, rather beaten to a pulp based on the purple bruises that littered his face.

"Huh, what the hell?"

"School trip guidebook page one thousand and forty three..." You heard a familiar voice speak, all of your heads raising in recognition, "What to do when a group member has been abducted. If there are no leads on the perpetrators, think back to said accents or quirks that might indicate whether said perpetrators are local. If not, if the perpetrators were wearing school uniforms refer to page one thousand three hundred and thirty four..."  

As Nagisa read the all too familiar words from a certain handbook you remember receiving, a small smile curled at the corner of your lips.

"You found us!" Kayano squealed, but was quickly overshadowed by the man before you shouting.

"What the hell?! How'd you even know where to look?"

Nagisa simply continued to read from Korosensei's guidebook, explaining each detail as to how they located us. It almost sounded too good to be true, and based off of the faces of the men they thought the same thing as well.

"Alright, so what's it gonna be gentleman?" Karma spoke, the sound of his voice making your eyes water as your smile grew, realizing the redhead was still alive, "Fight or flight? We'll go easy if you back down now but after all you've put us through, you're not getting out of this unscathed,"

Even with your vision obscured, the sight of his ominous golden eyes peering through his dark red locks was evident, enough to even make you shiver.

"That's a promise."

The feeling of hope hadn’t lasted long as the large thug before you chuckled at Karma’s words, seeming to be the only one not phased by their entrance.

"Acting all badass... You high school kids crack me up." The man hissed with a smirk, "Why do you even bother, you saw how far it got miss (Country) girl over here."

For a quick second your eyes locked with Karma's, golden hues drinking in your broken figure until he scowled and looked away, the sight making you want to shrink up into a ball and hide away. He was pissed.

"How about you say hello to some friends of mine.. see how far that attitude gets you with them."

The new voice was followed with an eerie chuckle, four new lifeless figures being presented at the doorway with a pair of glowing red eyes peering from the darkness.

"Say hello to them if you'd like.. but be advised though, they probably won't hear you."

All of your friends were finally able to smile with relief, your eyes lightening up at the sight of your teacher.

"Korosensei!" 

Suddenly your teacher revealed himself from the shadows, holding up the four men as if it were nothing at all to him.

"Sorry I'm a little late to the festivities, I figured it would be best to let you handle this on your own while I searched elsewhere, just to cover all the bases." Korosensei explained, "Now why don't we split up and teach these filthy thugs a good ole Class E lesson?"

The three boys beside him seemed to light up at those words, each of them grinning maliciously as they followed after their teacher in attacking the group of thugs.

Korosensei was doing most of the work, making sure to lecture each one of the disgusting thugs about how your class wasn't snobby like most other private schools, and how you all worked hard while not tearing others down around you.

It was a heartwarming sentiment to say the least, it was just strange to see Korosensei have time to lecture these guys while they charged at him with knives and other weapons. There was no doubt that Korosensei was on another level.

Kanzaki and Kayano giggled in excitement, their heads glancing down to your limp form as Kayano reassured you that everything would be okay. And for a second, it felt like everything would be.

But you should've known by now not to assume anything.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso and lifted you from off the couch, before you could register your friend’s screams or even what was happening, you were thrown over a large shoulder.

"Get that one away for now until we can regroup!"

Your eyes widened, this couldn't be happening. No.. no.. no. You were too damn close to be taken away like this. Gritting your teeth you began to slam your head against the back of the man’s legs while kicking at his gut in an attempt to make him drop you.

"Q..Quit that you little brat!" The man growled, his arms squeezing tightly around your torso causing you to yelp in pain. Why did he have to be so damn strong?

The sound of your name being screamed by Kanzaki and Kayano alerted your other classmates that were in the midst of giving a good beating, the three of them noticing the thug carrying your squirming body away.

"These fuckers just won't take a hint, will they?" Karma growled, releasing the head he had in his hand and shoving the limp thug away before running towards the man holding you.

"L..Let me... go! You p..pig!" You cried, your kicks turning into pathetic squirms as you felt like the life was being squeezed out of you. For the third time that day you saw those dark spots that plagued your vision, it was humiliating.

Just when you felt your lashes begin to flutter shut, you felt the man beneath you freeze. Since your senses were nearly fried from being on the verge of passing out, you didn’t hear the harsh scream of the thug until you collided with the floor.

Though you still were slowly gaining consciousness, you could at least feel two hands grip your face, your eyes registering those bright red strands of hair.

Karma held your weak body up as he quickly pulled out his pocket knife and sliced the ropes that held your wrists together. Rubbing at your arms a bit aggressively, the redhead grabbed your lolling head once more and called your name.

“Y/n, you there? Ya hearing me angel?”

Blinking a bit, your eyes focused enough to see the concern in his eyes, his lips moving in what you assumed was your name. Glancing behind him, you saw the man that was once carrying you now on the ground, gripping at his knees.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Karma now cried, his voice finally ringing in your ears as you looked to him, now feeling the tears running down your face as you nodded vigorously.

“Y..Yes yes… M’alright Karma! I’m… okay.” You whispered, forcing a smile on your lips as you tried to sit up before the two of you heard the metal door click beside you.

The thug was struggling to open the door as he tried to crawl away from the two of you, the sight making the redhead growl before he glanced back at your heaving body.

“You just stay here and breathe for me, alright angel?” Karma said softly, running his non-bloodied hand across your cheek before standing up and walking towards the pathetic man.

"You told me not to play hero huh?" Karma hissed with a psychotic grin, grabbing the man by his ankles and tugging him back away from the door, "Fine! I'll be the bad guy!"

Without a second thought, Karma’s fists connected with the man’s jaw with a frightening crack. Punch after punch, Karma relentlessly beat the thug, his sinister laugh filling the air as the hits began to grow harder and harder.

Though it twisted your insides, the thought of that man getting what was coming felt good. But with that said, there were only so many more hits he would be able to take before it would be too late for him.

Once you eventually were able to breathe normally, you stood up shakily and started walking towards the two in order to stop Karma, but your movement was stopped when a yellow tentacle wrapped around your wrist. Whipping your head around you noticed your teacher with a rather solemn face.

"Let him finish, the boy has so much pent up rage right now, it'll be best for him to take it out now rather than on you or one of his classmates," Korosensei explained, your heart dropping at the sound of that. You could only imagine how stressed out and angry the Karma was.

Even with that in mind though, you feared that Karma would take this too far. The crazed look in his eye only getting worse with each resounding punch.

"But if we don't stop him now Korosensei, he may end up-"

"I won't let him get that far I promise you that,” Your teacher spoke, placing a tentacle on your shoulder before bending down to you, “Now head back out to safety with your other classmates and get that neck of yours checked out, no severe injuries correct?"

Swallowing thickly, you rubbed at the back of your neck before letting out a shaky sigh.

"I don't believe so, just some minor stuff.” You mumbled, offering a forced smile before you shuffled towards the front door, one of your classmates running to you and helping you out.

Your teacher only nodded at you, his body facing back to the relentless redhead who continued his vicious attacks on the now regretful thug.

-

Karma couldn't lie to himself. If his teacher hadn't stepped in to stop his actions, the unconscious thug beneath him would've been a dead corpse in his hands.

How could he help it? They beat him up, kidnapped his friends, then he comes to find the girl he loves barely conscious on a filthy couch. He swore to protect you and he failed, and for that he was going to show these bastards a lesson.

The redhead even sensed when the thug was reaching fatal levels, but he didn't care. He ignored the man's pleas to stop. Why should he listen? He didn't listen to your desperate cries when he tried to take you away! 

Karma's fists ached but he barely felt it, instead he bared his teeth in fury as he cracked each of his fist's against the thug’s face. He didn't feel the blood running down his fists or the bruises forming on his knuckles, only the satisfaction of sweet revenge.

As his hits began to slow down his eyes glimmered in joy, knowing this final blow would be it for the sorry excuse of a man. Raising his fist with a crazed grin he was ready to smash it down into the man's skull until a yellow tentacle wrapped around his wrist. Karma whipped his head around with a growl, trying to free his wrist from his teacher's grasp.

"Stay out of this you damn octopus!"

Korosensei's hold only grew stronger as the creature's voice grew rather serious, "Karma you're going to kill that man, you must stop."

Karma laughed at the irony of his teacher's words. Korosensei was going to lecture him right now? Seriously?

"Why do you care? We're in an assassination classroom right! Killing is what we do!" Karma shouted with clenched fists, "This filthy pig tried to hurt your classmates!"

Karma's breathing became heavy as he felt his fists shake in fury, his eyes feeling hot as he looked down at the disgusting man.

"He tried to take her."

The feeling of Korosensei's tentacle suddenly disappeared, Karma's hand falling down to his knees as he kept his golden eyes trained on the ground.

"I understand how you're feeling, young man. Angry, scared, vengeful. You have every right to feel this way, but think about it like this," Korosensei explained, "These men around you tried to take your friends away and maybe even harm them for personal gain, why would you want to lower yourself down to their level for revenge?"

Karma remained silent, his fists loosening up as he looked at his teacher through his red tufts of hair.

"Y/n is okay, your friends are okay, that's all that matters at the moment. There's no doubt that you're training to become an assassin, but you must understand that assassins take pride in their work and don't just kill anyone for fun. Don't ruin your future for revenge, young man."

Surprisingly Karma felt… better. He hated to admit it, but the damn creature always knew the right things to say. Honestly Karma knew he lost himself in the moment, he could only thank his teacher for not letting him go too far.

"Now I suggest you go out there and check on Y/n, the poor girl has only been here for a few weeks and she's already experienced such a traumatic event. She's going to need you by her side."

For once during the whole talk Karma smiled at his teacher, taking his tentacle to stand up before they both walked outside to meet with their classmates.

-

When you made it outside you were surprised to see the sunset lowering just above the horizon. Time was lost while you were locked inside that decrepit building

Your classmates were quick to be at your side. After enough eyes examined you, it was determined you didn’t have any serious injuries, just some bruised spots and sore muscles. Luckily Nagisa offered to get you some water from a nearby convenience store, the cool liquid soothing your throat at least.

Once the chaos had settled down, your classmates decided to sit on the curb across the street from the building, talking amongst themselves. You decided to refrain from talking, your throat injury providing a helpful excuse to do so. But in reality, it’s more because you felt sick to your stomach.

Surprisingly you weren't completely traumatized by the events that had just occurred, for some reason that's not what bothered you the most out of everything that happened today. It was just the way you were so pathetic, so helpless. You should've been able to do something.

Instead you were forced to watch your boyfriend get attacked, watch your friends get harassed, and make everyone worry because you were so weak... so pathetic.

In your deep thought, you hadn’t even heard the grunt beside you as a tall redhead took a seat beside you on the sidewalk. The sound of his cough snapped you from your thoughts as you glanced up at him, seeing his golden eyes already looking down at you, though they were quick to drop to your neck, his eyes quickly narrowing.

"Damn it, I can't believe how bad it looks." Karma muttered, his fingers grazing against the damaged skin resulting in you sucking air through your teeth from the mild pain of the touch, to which he quickly jerked his hand away.

Quickly looking back to the road, you chuckled weakly with a frown, “Gee thanks.”

Karma clicked his tongue and bumped your side slightly, "You know what I meant angel, don't be like that."

You forced out a laugh, your eyes remaining glued to the ground as your fingers nervously fidgeted against your knee caps. Your actions didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, his hand gently grabbing your fidgeting fingers to force them to a still.

"Are you okay Y/n?"

Oh how you wished he hadn't uttered those four words. You were dreading those words falling from anyone's lips, knowing they would crumble the walls you tried so hard to keep up.

Sure enough the warm teardrops that had been threatening to spill from your lashes began to trickle out one by one, your sudden release of emotions causing you to sniffle.

Karma was quick to grab at your cheek and move your head to face his own, his face immediately softening as you burst into tears before him. Without second thought he shoved you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly, gripping at the locks of your hair and inhaling your scent as he kissed at the top of your head.

"Shit Y/n... I'm so sorry, that must've been so scary for you. I should've been there and I wasn't-"

"Shut up!"

Out of everything Karma expected you to say, it wasn’t that. His hold on you softened as you shoved yourself away from his chest, your sobs growing louder as you rubbed aggressively at your face. You almost looked... angry? The sight scared Karma to death, thinking you could only be mad at him.

"Shut up, shut up, just shut up!" You cried as you looked down to your shaking hands, "You shouldn't have been there, I should've been there!"

Karma's eyes widened at this, confusion running through his mind as you continued.

"You put yourself before me to save me and as soon as you got attacked all I did was watch like an idiot! A..And when they took me away and I had to watch you get kicked to what I thought was death! All I could do was cry and watch you get attacked, I felt so.. so weak!"

Now the puzzle pieces were clicked together in Karma's head. You weren't mad at him... you were mad at yourself.

And somehow, that felt worse for him.

"And when we got kidnapped and they just kept harassing us, all I could do was shout at them and hope they would stop! I..I.. I should've been able to do something! But instead all I could do was watch, all I ever do is watch. I put everyone else around me in danger or make everyone else worry because... because..."

Your face grew red, every emotion you felt bottled up inside as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Because I’m weak!"

This caused everyone to silence, the only sound being heard was the cool evening wind blowing against the metal signs and fall leaves that littered the ground.

"I..I'm weak... and I'm pathetic... and-"

The next string of words were cut off when a pair of lips smashed against yours. They weren't angry, they weren't guilty, they were simple and welcoming. The feeling of his warm lips pressing against your own caused more tears to stream from your face as you gripped down on his hands tightly until the redhead moved away from you.

"You are not fucking weak, you hear me? You're not weak for being scared, or pathetic for not being able to do anything. That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard!" Karma shouted with a frown as he looked at you with an intense gaze, "I got beaten because I was reckless and moved on instinct rather than thinking things through."

Inhaling sharply,  you swallowed what saliva you forgot you had in your mouth and as your teeth clamped down on the inside of your lip to prevent more tears from spilling as your nails dug into Karma's hands.

"You were strong enough to fight back against those pigs and hold your ground even in a scary situation, so don't you dare say you're weak, do you understand me?" Karma questioned as he cupped your cheek and looked into your eyes, "I was never angry at you, I was angry at myself for letting you slip away. And now I'm going to promise you that I'm going to act more with a level head, so long as you promise to always tell me how you're feeling and to stop bottling up these feelings inside."

You couldn't help the feeling of your lips twitching, your eyes blinking to hold back any tears from escaping your exhausted eyes as you looked up to him. His eyes were stern yet soft, his thumb rubbing against the smooth skin of your palm as he gave your hands a light squeeze.

"Promise me Y/n?"

Smiling softly you let out a slight laugh, your head nodding quickly as more tears streamed down your face.

"I promise Karma."

Karma smiled at this, his palm brushing away some residing tears from your soft cheeks while pushing some of your unkempt hair behind your ear. Somehow even in your disheveled state, you looked so damn beautiful to him.

The two of you hadn't noticed each other leaning in until the sound of a pen clicking and a familiar voice cooing made you both back away.

“Star Crossed lovers reunited after being forcefully separated, I mean the story is just writing itself!” Korosensei cried, somehow having a box of tissues in one of his many tentacles.

At this you began to giggle along with the rest of your classmates, and though Karma put on an annoyed facade, he couldn’t stop the boyish grin from creeping upon his lips when your angelic smile filled his ears once more.

And just then as he caught a glimpse of your pretty smile laughing with the milky sunset rays beaming across your face, he knew one thing was for sure.

He would never let anything take you away from him, ever again.

next chapter

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Four - A day in Hell

☆☆☆

Hell isn't exactly what you expected it to be, but it wasn't the most comforting of places either. You find yourselves in a desolate place, moody and foggy.

"So this is Hell."

"It had many names. Avernus, Tartarus, Hades, the infernal region you call Hell."

"So, it really does exist." You say, looking around. You didn't like it one bit.

"It does, for some."

"It's colder than I imagined." You ruffle your feathers. "Which way do we go?"

"I suggest we follow the damned." He says.

You look at the road below where people are walking. They're carrying their own fires. You had no idea exactly how awful Hell would be.

The sooner you returned to the Dreaming, the better.

You fly behind Morpheus as he leads the way to the gates of Hell. The air tastes stale on your tongue. You land by his feet as he stops by the gates.

"A king may not enter another monarch's realm uninvited." Morpheus says, looking at the gates. You look up at him. "There are rules, protocols which must be followed." He explains to you.

Morpheus moves closer to the gate, and you follow, hopping along with your little legs. A sense of unease settles in your body.

He approaches the gong and hits it once. The sound echoes out, and the dead around the gate groan.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation." A heavy voice speaks from the other side.

You stay close to Morpheus's feet as the towering demon comes over to the gate. Morpheus can sense your unease, but doesn't say anything.

"Is it thief, thug, or whore? There's one at the door. And there's room for one more. Till the end of creation."

"Greetings, Squatterbloat." Morpheus speaks. "I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"And who might you be?" The demon asks.

"I am the King of Dreams. Ruler of the Nightmare Realms."

"Mm. Yes, my clown. So, where's your crown?"

Morpheus scoffs softly. "Guard your tongue demon. The ruler of Hell will not be kind to one who insults an honoured guest. And I am a guest in this realm as I am monarch of my own."

"So, where's your ruby?"

"Shall I use it to haunt your dreams? And your waking hours, too?" Morpheus asks. "Or will you open the gates of Hell and let us through?"

The demon opens the gates.

"Now, take us to the palace."

Squatterbloat starts leading the way. You look up at Morpheus. "I really don't like being here."

"Stay close," he says softly. Morpheus follows the demon. You hurry to catch up, staying close to your king's feet.

You walk for a while. An ashen forest shrouded in fog. It unsettles you. "Where are we?" You ask.

"The landscape is subject to the whims of the Morningstar."

"Morningstar...? As in...?"

"Yes." Morpheus glances down at you.

It had been a long time since Dream met with Lucifer. You remember him leaving to visit this kingdom before. That was so long ago. You hadn't come with him last time.

"Are you afraid?" Morpheus asks.

"I'm not exactly comforted."

Morpheus stops walking and looks down at you. You gaze back up at him, wondering why he stopped. Slowly, Morpheus scoops you up in his pale hands and tucks you into his coat. You're at a loss for words as he continues walking. He's never done anything like this before.

"Better?" He asks.

"I... I guess so."

He doesn't speak again for a little while. Not until Squatterbloat is leading you up a strange twisted tower. Morpheus keeps you tucked up in his coat the entire time. You feel safe being so close to your beloved king.

"Does this seem like the way to you?" You ask, looking up at him.

"A demon has a hundred motives for anything he does. All of them malevolent. Demon," he adresses Sqautterbloat, "this is not the way."

The demon chuckles.

Morpheus moves to follow him, butnis stopped by a voice. "Kai'ckul."

You both turn to the prison cell beside you. You stare in awe at the woman inside. You know of her. A human Dream loved so long ago. Here she was in Hell.

"Dream Lord? It is you." She looks so happy to see him.

"I greet you, Nada." He speaks to her, appearing as he did to her all those years ago.

"How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come." She tears up.

You glimpse at the demon. He did this on purpose. You snuggle yourself into the warmth of Morpheus even further. You hated when other played cruel games with your master.

"It pains me to see you like this."

"Then, free me, Lord." Nada says. "Only your forgiveness can free me. Do you not still love me?" She cries.

"It had been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes. I still love you. But I have not forgiven you." Dream tells her.

Morpheus continues walking. He gently lifts a hand to where you are nestled in his coat.

"Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope." Nada calls out. "I will never give up."

You offer the only comfort you can. You nuzzle his chin softly. He doesn't say anything, but you see his finger twitch before he lowers his hand to his side again.

Squatterbloat leads you up a hill and then stops. He turns and walks away, leaving you and Morpheus alone.

Just beyond is the castle of Lucifer Morningstar.

You nudge your way out of his coat and land on the ground softly. You look at the castle. Morpheus begins to lead the way. You fly close to him, making sure to stay where he can see you, and where you can see him.

The road to the castle is long and narrow.

The castle is huge. It would he so easy to get lost here. Dream's castle was big, too, but it was certainly more comforting than this. You knew its halls like the back of your wings.

The gates open. Blood pools out from the opening. You fly on as Morpheus walks, entering the palace.

Morpheus leads you through the dark cavernous halls. You land again and follow him on foot, staying close to his feet once again.

You approach an open room. A fire is lit on the centre, and Lucifer themself stands overlooking their kingdom. You feel nerves setting in.

Morpheus comes to a stop and claps his hands together. You remain by his side.

Lucifer turns around.

"Hello." Lucifer walks closer, never once looking away from Dream. Once in front of Morpheus, Lucifer stops. "Hello, Dream."

"Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"You look well, Dream. Are you well?" Lucifer asks. "And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?"

Morpheus scoffs in amusement. "I presume the Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call."

"Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"

"You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer."

You look up at Morpheus.

"Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals." Lucifer says.

You hate it thinking about that. The image of him in the glass prison tore your heart into pieces. The way he looked at you before you died...

"We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus."

"I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me." He states. "I believe one of your demons has it. I should like other back. Now."

"Dream, if only it were that easy. But there are rules, you see." Protocols which must be followed."

You feel uneasy and you think Morpheus cam sense it.

"Which demon has your helm?" Lucifer asks. "Name it, and we will bring it here."

"I confess I do not know the name." Morpheus tells Lucifer.

Lucifer stands on the balcony overlooking their kingdom. "Then we will have to summon all of them."

You follow Morpheus to join Lucifer on the balcony. With a wave of the hand, all the demons in Hell are summoned to the castle yard. You hate being here.

"There, now, Dream, you may inquire. Which Demon has your helmet? Shall we interview them one at a time, or..."

"That won't be necessary," he tells Lucifer. Morpheus steps away from the balcony, and you follow him. It looks like he's walking away.

"It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied on your tools. But tools are the subtlest of traps."

Morpheus stops.

"We become reliant upon them, and in their absence, we are vulnerable, weak defenseless."

"Not entirely." Morpheus reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pouch of sand. "I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell, and now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me."

You watch him curiously. He kneels down and begins to pour the sand onto the polished ground. It swirls around until a figure appears. A demon holding his helmet.

Morpheus stands and faces the demon. You hide behind his boot cautiously.

"Tell me your name, demon."

"Do I have to tell him?" The demon asks.

"That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell." Lucifer speaks for him.

"Choronzon... The Helm is mine. You must return it to me."

"No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws. And if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it... or trade it." Choronzon looks down at you.

Lucifer smiles. "Ah, the raven."

"No." Morpheus says. "The raven is mine. She is not up for trade."

You look up at him. A warmth fills your heart at his words. He still cares about you. That makes you happy.

"Then a fight it is." Choronzon states, looking at the Dream Lord.

"Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon."

The demon chuckles. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."

"If I win, you will return my helmet."

"And if you lose," Choronzon looks at you again, "I get both the helmet and your raven."

Morpheus' eyes narrow. "That's not part of the deal."

"It is now," Lucifer confirms.

You look up at Morpheus desperately. Lucifer waves their hand, and just like that, you're in human form again. You curl up to hide your nakedness from them all.

Morpheus sees how startled and afraid you look. You look so much more vulnerable now. He removes his coat without hesitation and wraps it around you.

As he kneels and pulls the coat around you, his eyes meet yours. You feel like your breath catches in your throat. There is a look in his eyes you can't describe.

"The raven can transform into a human? Curious." Lucifer smiles.

"She is not part of this deal." Morpheus stands again.

"It's all or nothing, Dream Lord," Choronzon remarks.

Morpheus stares at the demon with a steel gaze. He can not afford to lose. Not this game.

"I accept the terms."

You feel like your heart cracks in your chest. Morpheus has just added you to the deal. You never wanted to believe he could trade you away like that before.

"And whom will you choose to represent you in battle?" Lucifer asks him.

"I shall represent myself."

"Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?"

"Hmm... I choose you, sire."

Morpheus realises what he is up against and knows he can not afford to lose. He does not dare meet your eyes as Lucifer comes up behind him, dressed in attire fitting for this battle.

"Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion. Ut if you would not fight me."

"I have accepted the terms."

Morpheus changes his clothes for battle, too, while ensuring you remained wrapped up in his coat.

He looked good. Very good.

You couldn't doubt him. You had to have faith that he could win a battle against Lucifer Morningstar.

"Let the challenge begin."

You feel your heart racing in your chest, and you pull the coat around you even more. You hope with all you have that Morpheus can beat Lucifer.

You know he would not give you away so easily. You just know it.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @sitkafay - @snowsatsu - @ladyofdreaming - @thoughtsfromlayla -

[southasianpercy]

miles-42 is a vigilante.

this is something my friend and i have discussed in private immediately after watching the movie when it was released. but, whenever we see anyone else say it online, they get heavy pushback from A LOT of people. and i believe those people def only watched across the spiderverse for reasons such as (1) the most popular movie at the time (2) it’s spider-man (but they only have a passive interest in spidey). i say this because their denial of miles-42 being a vigilante instead of a villain or anti-hero feels like they only care to look at the movie with a very shallow perspective.

i’m going to first talk about why my friend & i believed miles-42 was a vigilante after watching the movie (take note that we hadn’t really seen other ppl’s opinions on this yet & we also hadn’t searched up anything pertaining to the topic prior to our convos).

our main reason is that miles-42 was meant to be spider-man in his universe. and we all know that when a person is meant to be spider-man, they are a person with a heart of gold (i.e. a very kind and good nature).*

*yes, i know spider-man can be evil, but that doesn’t line up with the theme represented throughout the spiderverse films, so it’s not relevant here. also, with that logic, then you have to consider that prowler can be good.

miles-42 being the prowler in his universe doesn’t mean that he’s automatically evil/a villain/thug/gang member, especially since there are parallels between miles-42 and our miles (miles-1610).

• they have the same mural dedicated to a beloved family member who died.

• miles-42 caught the glove from uncle aaron-42 the same way that our miles caught the spray can from his uncle.

• they wear the same clothes. i believe the clothes are a heavy indicator for how similar miles-42 and our miles are—they both wear the jersey with the big puffy coat over, but the colors (red & black, purple & green) match their respective titles (spider-man, prowler). this definitely indicates that they stand for the same thing and represent the same thing for their respective universes, just with a different appearance.

now, when i’ve seen people try to defend their belief that miles-42 is a villain or anti-hero, they say “well, he tied up our miles!” or “he’s the prowler! and the prowler is supposed to be evil/kill people!” or “he’s only had a couple seconds of screen time, so just let people assume what they want.” i have a rebuttal for each of these.

“well, he tied up our miles!” yeah, this is another parallel, similar to how our miles tied up peter b. parker in itsv. did that mean our miles was a villain then? or evil? no, he was scared and wanted answers. but, in comparison, miles-42 is more experienced and has spent a year being his city’s hero, so he’s definitely going to be tougher and more capable compared to itsv miles.

“he’s the prowler! and the prowler is supposed to be evil/kill people!” people need to take into account that this is a different universe without a spider-man. there is no spider-man mantle to take up because there never was one in the first place/no one got bit, which means things function differently. miles-42 being the prowler is the closest thing to being spider-man in his universe (which, once again, is indicated through subtext: miles-42 & our miles’s clothing being similar).

“he’s only had a couple of seconds of screen time, so just let people assume what they want.” no. i don’t care that miles-42 had little to no screen time because there are heavy indicators that point to him being a hero in his universe. and letting ppl assume what they want has went into weird racist territory where people push this idea of miles-42 running his own cartel, being a threatening hoodrat, or anything else that falls under bullshit harmful stereotypes based off of his appearance alone. letting ppl assume miles-42 to be anything but a vigilante who helps people and doesn’t kill anyone just lets them play out their fantasies that are deeply rooted in racism. they even make it to where miles-42 acts & dresses insanely different from our miles even tho the movie has shown us these two have similar taste?? and rio-42 didn’t think miles was acting any different when he was talking to her?? the only difference between our miles and miles-42 is their environment, which forced one of them to grow up way quicker and adopt a tougher exterior.

and a couple months ago, when i was reading through the atsv art book, on the section about miles-42 the director literally confirmed what my friend & i thought all along: miles-42 is a vigilante and the hero of his universe. it’s nice to have it confirmed, but it also is important for the vigilante deniers to hear it because that’s the only time they’ll truly understand (even tho it’s been heavily hinted at in the movie).

p. 190 of the atsv official art book

p. 200 of the atsv official art book

[starshipsofstarlord]

Brekkie

Summary -> Damon makes breakfasts for you with your daughter after he comforts her from a bad dream (1k)

Warnings -> fluff, mentions of Damon’s past and death, child abandonment

damon salvatore works other tvd works masterlist

Life as a vampire deprived those turned of many thugs, the greatest punishment for Damon being unable to have children. He had always thought when he was much younger that when he met a nice woman he would have the ability to settle down, and give her the greatest gift of all in the form of a child.

But when he met you, the blessing of a child had already fallen upon you prior to meeting Damon. It hurt him knowing that he could never be a father of his own, but without Tiff having a male parent in the picture, it gave Damon the opportunity to step up. He awoke from his heavenly slumber from being shaken restlessly on his bare shoulder by a small hand that was no doubt pining for his attention.

As his eyes peeled open, as expected he was met with the sight of Tiff. Her wide blue eyes were staring up at him, and if he had no recollection of his past, from a few attributes of her appearance he would have been convinced that she was his long lost daughter. "Tiffy, why are you up so early sweetie?"

In her presence, he felt like a whole new man. He forgot all the terrible things he had done as his sole focus was on her. "I couldn't sleep Damon..." Her voice was small and it trailed off into a silence that scared the man before her. It pained him to hear her minuscule heart having a rave in her chest, yet simultaneously he was comforted that she found solace in her sleepless state in him.

You remained comatised in the depths of your dreams as Dam0n helped Tiff up onto the bed, she laid between the both of you, hugging on of the pillows on the bed. "I get bad dreams sometimes too."" He confided in her, reaching to hold her hand with his own. She gripped it tightly, fearful as though Damon would disappear from beside her.

"What are they about? Your bad dreams I mean..." Tiff was a very inquisitive child, and was well educated in her speech for her age. He would never answer her question truthfully, there were far too many sins he had partaken in. There was guilt wrapped around the remainder of his soul like a parasite, and most things he had done were too violent to share. The little girl before him deserved to keep her innocence, she was a the purest light in his life, and he refused to corrupt her.

"Well Tiffy, when I was younger, so a really long time ago, me and my brother would play around the garden with a football. Neither him or my dad if he dared dirty his clothes never let me win. And I miss my mom, she wasn't in my life then, she left us... me." To know Lily hadn't died but in fact abandoned him and. Stefan only pained him furthermore, it had been her choice to leave him in the custody of his neglectful father.

"Oh. Mine was you left mommy and me, like my real daddy did." His heart ached from hearing her words. "You're kinda like my dad, aren't you? You're here protecting us, and you make the bad dreams go away. Do you think mommy's having a good or bad dream?" To think she saw him as a parent figure made Damon feel proud about his journey, he'd come such a long way and finally, he had everything that he had ever wanted.

In reply to her enquiry his eyes trailed past Tiff and rested on his beloved. Your face was rested peacefully atop of the pillow beneath your head, strands of hair laying softly on your cheek. It was a rare occasion that you weren’t unconsciously kicking him, but he guessed that your maternal instincts sensed that your daughter was between the two of you.

“A good dream.” He answered her, thinking about how perfect his life was in the moment. “But it’d be even better if we woke her up with some brekkie.” He insisted as he laid a kiss on Tiff’s hairline, helping her clamber off from the mattress gently, as to not awaken you prematurely. They trailed through the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, Damon picking Tiff up and sitting her on the countertop. “What do you think we should make, kid?”

“Pancakes!” The child exclaimed, and Damon had to remind her to be soft with her voice as you were still sleeping upstairs. Or so they thought… your bare feet had followed the route they had taken some moments later, and as they made use out of the frying pan, you watched the two of them from the doorway. A small part of you had wished they’d woken you up so that you could join them and teach them some culinary skills that would deplete the mess they had made around them, however the sight you had was everything.

The three of you were one big happy family. “And the two of you are making what exactly?” Halloween costumes would have been your first guess for when they spun around, the flour that they had used as an ingredient illuminated the high points of their faces. Tiff gave you a toothy smile as Damon blew you a kiss before returning to the pan that was hissing for his attention.

“We’re making pancakes, right daddy?” You froze, and Damon ignored that the cooking breakfast required a flip to its other side when the title escaped her mouth. She had never called Damon that before, but it justified Damon’s appearance of flour on his face and a towel slung over his shoulder. “Is that okay baby?” Damon asked you with uncertainty tied around his tongue.

You stood there, remembering all of the milestones and moments that Tiffany’s biological father had missed but Damon had been there for. She loved drives in his Camaro, he’d take her out for ice cream after he collected her from kindergarten thinking you didn’t know but you did. It was difficult to be against Damon being her ‘daddy’, because in all aspects he was. “It’s more than okay. But I don’t think the breakf- sorry, brekkie is; smells like it’s burning.”