#to see what its all about if nothing else

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh

[ninikrumbs]

things he'd never admit

Sukuna x femreader. Just pure fluff. modern au. Soft Sukuna. Sukuna is bad at emotions. first time writing for sukuna so this could be bad.

The smell of rain reaches your nose first making you look up at the dark and gloomy clouds in slight panic, "Damn, its gonna rain soon."

Quickly, you run to the bus station, but apparently not quick enough as you made it halfway through before the soft pitter patter of rain slowly turns louder.

Lady luck was not on your side today. After long tiring day at University, you're now about to turn into a wet rat. A cute wet rat, but still a rat.

It was probably a dumb thing to do, especially when the pouring rain was now blurring your vision, yet you still continued running down the slippery pathway anyways, trying to salvage your books and papers inside your gradually dampening bag.

A low, annoyed grumble made you halt in your step, "Are you trying to kill yourself, brat?"

You could recongnize that rude voice anywhere. You look up to the large form now blocking your way, and quickly noticing the dark umbrella covering your head, "Kuna?"

He scoffs and let out an irritated sound, "Who else?"

Suprise and something warm flits through your body, your eyebrows raising, "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy all day today?"

Your mind recalls his blatant reminder that he couldn't come see you today because he had some school shit to do. Hence why you didn't call him to pick you up which he usally does. Because despite his semi aggressive personality, he does take his studies seriously so you didn't want to disturb him.

And Sukuna was busy, unbearably so. Not that he would admit it, he loved spending time with you thats why he chose to spend the entire day to do his papers and essays due this week was so there would be no interruptions during your time together - which was another thing he would never admit to you- and he could just focus on you.*simp

But when he saw the weather forecast and knowing your bad habit of always forgetting to bring an umbrella, he was already out the door with his keys in hand.

He was right to trust his gut cause here you are almost soaking wet, like a stray kitten left out in the street. Not mention your clothes that were now almost translucent.

It makes him grit his teeth, no one else should see you this way other than him. He holds out the umbrella to you. "Hold this."

You take it without question and hold it above the both of you as Sukuna removes his coat and puts it over your wet clothes. The annoyed look still plastered on his face as he keeps grumbling under his breath of how much of a spoiled brat you are.

It makes you grin cheekily. Other people might take Sukuna's surly personality the wrong way but you knew better. You spoke fluent in Sukuna Itadori.

And you knew, regardless of his complaints and rumblings, he cared. He cared so much even if he wouldn't admit to you or to himself. But you felt it every second you're together.

"Watcha smilin about, woman?" He grouses, annoyed, his eyes locking in on your smile, the type of smile that makes his pathetic heart stumble.

You shake your head still grinning innocently, "Nothing."

He glares at you, not believeing you for a second, but he can roast you about that later. Right now he just want to get you home to make sure you don't come down with a cold or a fever.

With a shake of his head, he takes the umbrella from you and starts walking you to his car. He tries to be subtle about it, but you didn't miss the way the umbrella tilted more on your side getting his right arm soaked from the rain.

"Kuna, your-"

"Leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"Im fine, brat."

You bit back a grin, his words were so jarring yet with no real bite behind them. It could be his jacket that envelops your entire frame and his comforting scent emitting from it, but you feel so warm and cherished. Only Sukuna can be so grumpy yet somehow affectionate.

The car finally comes to view and he ushers you into the passenger seat, placing a practiced hand on the car door frame as you sat down.

You bumped your head into it once but the grimaced you wore is forever seared into Sukunas brain. He realized then and there that he didn't want you in any form of pain, not that you'd ever know when he called you a clumsy idiot as you rubbed your sore head.

He drove extra slow that day.

Plus he stared at that door frame for a hot minute like it was his biggest enemy when he got home.

The moment you got inside his apartment, he immediately demands you get into the shower. His voice holding no room argument.

You comply without complaints of course. After a warm shower, you change into his baggy shirts and make your way to the kitchen when you hear the kettle boiling, and surely enough he has your favorite tea ready in the favorite mug that you bought when you first started dating.

"Oi, your hair's still wet." He notes grimly by the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in displeasure. Though you don't miss the way his eyes flits across your figure in his shirt apprciatively.

You wave him off, grabbing the mug off the counter and breathing in the soothing scent of the tea, a content smile on your lips, "It'll dry off on its own, Kuna."

He tsks at your carelessness and disappears to the bedroom, he comes back a few moments later with a towel and hair dryer. "Sit on the damn sofa"

You gaze at him with exasperated affection. If only people could see through his rough exterior and notice how much this man dotes on you.

Finding no reason to argue, you plop down on the sofa with your legs crossed and he finds his place behind you, fluffy towel in hand.

Gazing down in the mug in your hands, you smile secretly to yourself. Your boyfriend may not be the most expressive when it comes to declarations of love, but you didn't need words. His actions spoke more than any kind of heart trembling confession or lovesick poem.

And you felt everything he would never admit outloud in the way his rough, calloused hands are so uncharacteristically gentle as he weaves through your hair with the towel. Handling you like you were some precious china.

You clasps your hands over his, making him stop. You turn your head and look up at his questioning gaze. Smiling softly, your kiss one of his palms. "Thank you for always taking care of me, Kuna."

His eyes widen slightly before his mask of nonchalance returns, huffing,"Dunno what yer talkin about."

"You know exactly what Im talking about." You grin.

He rolls his eyes feigning irritation in order to hide the small smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Don't get too used to it."

But he did want you to get used to it. Needed you to need him. This way maybe you'll ignore how shitty he is at emotions or how he can't do all the lovey-dovey stuff that makes you swoon in those crappy rom-coms you're always watching. He'll never hold a boombox over his head outside your window.

"Too late." You say, snuggling your cheek into his palm.

Sukuna falters a bit.

He's a confident man, women would beg for just a single glance from him despite his abrasive nature, it was all part of what Gojo called his charm -and once again he'd never admit it to you- but your words eases the insecurities he didn't realize were there. He grumbles under his breath somewhere along the lines of you better not taking that back.

You laugh at his mumbling, the sound like music to his ears, "Oh, Kuna."

[witherby]

WOAAH!!

Flight of Fancy reached 330+ notes!

ive never seen a request of mine blow up!!!!

—🦈

You have good ideas! And because the first part reached the reblog threshold, here's:

Flight of Fancy, pt. 2

Damian x Winged!Reader

Masterlist is Here!

"This is deep, and was made with a plain-edge blade. Whoever did this to you was trying to hurt you much worse than this."

Damian looks your wound over meticulously as you sit on a chair in the cave's medical bay. "What happened?"

You shrug your good shoulder, examining the space around you with clear intrigue. The Bat Cave was incredibly interesting, with all its different sections and complicated layout. You itched to explore it in its entirety. Maybe Damian would let you when he finished patching you up.

"I wanted to be free. The men who captured me did not approve."

Damian hums. He uses a pair of surgical scissors to cut off the sleeve of your robe to further expose the injury in your shoulder, and you let him do it without fuss. He grabs a wet cloth to clean the blood away and see it all better.

"Why did they capture you in the first place?"

You frown. Your wings, which are currently tucked against your back, flex and flutter briefly. You resist the urge to pluck at your feathers.

"They hunted me down," you explain, "and took me from my home. Said they needed me for what I can do."

Damian picks up a needle and thread to begin sewing the cut closed. You don't object when he warns you of what he's about to do or flinch when he starts.

"And what can you do?" He asks.

You don't respond. Damian sees your jaw clench, eyes darting towards where you know one of the exits to be.

"Alright," he says, "that's fair. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"You are not angry with me?" You ask.

"No. We're practically strangers," he says, tying off the stitchwork and snipping off the excess thread. He grabs a roll of bandages to cover it, and you hold your arm out to give him better access. "Telling me what abilities you possess might lead to exploitation on your part. The safest move is to keep sensitive information close to your chest. I don't even know your name. I'm not angry, I'm impressed."

"Impressed indeed."

Both you and Damian look in the direction of the medical bay's entrance and find Bruce at the door, geared up in his Batman suit. To his credit, he doesn't look as mad as the boy expected.

"I'll need a word with you when you're finished, Robin."

"Of course," Damian replies. He secures your bandage and pulls away. You drop your arm. "Will you be alright alone for a few minutes?"

"I will."

Damian excuses himself, closing the door to the bay and facing his father.

"You're going to tell me off for compromising the cave, and potentially our identities," he says immediately, "and that's fair. However, I informed Red Robin ahead of time so he could hide any documentation, and the Batmobile took a scrambled route here, so they have no way of being able to track the location of the cave once they leave it. They know nothing, and they've seen nothing that can implicate any of us."

"That's not what I'm concerned about," Bruce says. "I'm wondering why you've brought them to begin with. The victims we help in the field don't come back to the cave, ever. That's the part of the protocol I need to know why you broke."

"They're a metahuman, father," Damian says, "and all of Gotham knows your rule. Where else was I supposed to bring a wounded trafficking victim if a human hospital would've turned them away the second they spotted huge wings and golden blood?"

"To the metahuman outpost on the edge of the city limits—"

"— which was being scouted and surrounded by Luthor's henchmen at the time of retrieval."

Bruce purses his lips. "You could have radioed a Leaguer to take them somewhere else."

"It's three-thirty in the morning. Half of them are asleep and won't wake up for a non-emergency summons, and the rest are either off-world, can't get here for immediate extraction, or they're busy protecting their own sectors." Damian crosses his arms and scowls at his dad. "I'm not one of your brainless coworkers incapable of any critical thought. I'm your Robin, and I know what I'm doing. This was the safest and most logical action to take for now."

Bruce sighs. He rests a palm on his hip and nods begrudgingly.

"I understand your reasoning," he says. "In the future, I'm going to update our metahuman contingencies to account for lack of recovery points. For now, you're in charge of keeping an eye on them until morning. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good." Bruce turns away and heads for a different section of the cave. "I'll contact Superman and try to coordinate a retrieval. If he's indisposed, someone will take your place and keep watch until we can safely get them to the outpost."

Damian doesn't reply. He watches him disappear down the corridor, then reenters the medbay to find you missing from your chair.

"...hello?" He frowns, glancing around. There's only one way in and out of there, so he's not sure how you vanished. "Are you hiding?"

"No," you say. Damian looks up to find you perched on the edge of the fluorescent lighting. He has to squint to see you properly.

Your wings are out, flexing and adjusting to help you keep your balance on the light fixture. You look down at Damian with a small smile.

"I can hear many winged creatures in the adjacent rooms. There are none in here, though. I looked."

"Bats," Damian clarifies for you. "They're not allowed in this section because it has to stay well-sanitized. Bats have a tendency to carry disease."

"Is that why the bat-man could not speak with you in here?" You ask. Damian almost snorts.

"No, he's a human. He just dresses like...it's...it makes sense," Damian says, somehow embarrassed by your innocent curiosity. "His moniker is Batman. He's not a real bat. Just like my moniker is Robin, but I'm not a real bird."

You tip your body over until you fall from the light. Damian instinctively extends his arms to catch you, alarmed, but your wings flare out to their full length and help you coast gently to the floor again.

"May I go see them?" You ask. "The real bats?"

"If you promise not to touch them, yes."

You pout, bottom lip jutting out slightly, but don't argue. Damian automatically thinks back on how plush your lips felt against his and looks away.

"Do you have any other injuries that need treated before we leave this room?" He asks.

"I do not," you reply, reaching for the buttons on the front of your robe, popping them open one by one. "If you must examine me..."

Damian physically turns his whole body away from you, wishing his domino mask covered more than just his eyes so he could hide the redness of his cheeks. "No I don't! That's fine, you can keep your clothes on!"

You tilt your head, but don't ask about his flustered behavior. Instead, you reach past him for the door and turn the knob, stepping into the corridor.

"Don't leave the cave," Damian says, walking after you. "It's imperative that you stay here. You're not a prisoner, but this is the safest move for you right now."

"I will not leave," you promise. You look upward as you go, scanning for signs of any bats hanging out on the ceiling. When you find a cluster of them, you spread your wings again.

Hesitating, you glance at Damian over your shoulder.

"Project Angel," you tell him. "That is what they called me, in the laboratory. It's not my real name. You may use the... moniker of Angel."

Damian watches you push off of the ground, soaring into the air with a dizzying speed to admire the animals up above.

"Angel," he whispers, watching your graceful movements with unabashed awe. "Fitting."

[dollfacefantasy]

Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?

Absolutly love the way you write btw 🫶🫶

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3

"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."

your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.

it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.

he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.

the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.

but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.

"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.

he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.

"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.

your head shook back and forth now.

"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.

his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.

a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.

"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.

you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.

"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.

"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.

"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."

"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.

"uh huh," you moaned.

"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.

you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.

"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"

"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.

as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.

"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."

you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.

"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."

ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.

this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.

he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.

finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.

he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.

a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.

"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.

you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.

he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.

[essektheylyss]

Something that I am struck by, as we wait to walk into Vasselheim, is that so much emphasis has been placed upon this being a change in the status quo, to the point that it feels like the narrative has pushed to this conclusion only because that emphasis demanded it, but at the same time, everything else said has suggested that nothing will change.

Matt has specified on more than one occasion that healing magic won't disappear because it's not technically of the gods, and that clerics and paladins can continue on as they were because the magic doesn't come from their patron but the conviction of their beliefs. The gods may be gone in one respect or another, but these statements suggest that faith is not contingent on a real figure responding to it, even when magic is involved, and though some religious figures and sects may opt to let go of it, many will not. The rest of Exandria will not be harmed if Predathos is let loose in a diminished form to chase its next prey, because we've confirmed it does not even see Exandria. Though there are other massive impacts upon status quo normal in the world—Ruidians now being known and present, unprecedented political alliances, shifts in longstanding ruling institutions like the Cerberus Assembly—these are not the changes that the narrative has hammered so hard upon; in fact, it's barely lingered there, and instead swept those concerns under the rug. Exandria itself will largely continue to turn as it always has, and the lives of those upon it, in this regard, will not materially change.

There are less kind interpretations to be made about what kind of ending the Hells are walking into, but these frustrations lie a level above even that, at the narrative and structural level. For all the talk of a change in the status quo, it feels as though the stagnation the Hells have exhibited for this entire campaign has infected the creative intent.

At every turn, we've been reassured that this change will not make an impact on the world in even the ways that it seems it most should, in a sense that feels almost precious about Exandria. And it is not unreasonable that the table and especially Matt are precious about it! But it is fundamentally at odds with the force the narrative is attempting to exert, at this point culminating in what I can best describe as unstoppable force meets immovable object, and the result is a lack of narrative commitment in change—any change—that the ending desperately needs to feel as though it's found any purchase in its own world.

[chibinasuu]

Promises | Law x Reader

Summary: Law breaks the news to the Heart Pirates that he's going on a solo mission to Punk Hazard. Tags: sfw, angst-to-fluff, mutual pining, confession, first kiss, slight spoiler for punk hazard/dressrosa/zou, GN but written with F!reader in mind, no use of y/n

The dining hall of the Polar Tang was so silent you could hear a pin drop. 

Every member of the Heart Pirates was frozen in place. No one had the nerve to breathe a single word against the Captain’s orders, despite the strong urge to protest visible in their clenched jaws and fists.  

“Sail on to Zou without me.”

The Captain’s final sentence rang again and again in your head. The directive was straightforward and indisputable, but you just couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was asking his crew to do. 

You felt a pressure slowly building in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. An avalanche of emotions washed over you in quick succession, and you recoiled when you realized that the strongest was a feeling of betrayal.

Was he seriously telling his crew to leave him behind? Did he not trust you all? What good was a crew without its captain and a captain without its crew?

The more rational part of your brain eventually took over and you let yourself fall into a reluctant acceptance. Your Captain was a determined man. Once he had put his mind on something, there was nothing anyone could say that could change his decision. 

Law must have had his reasons for sending you all away to Zou while he confronted Caesar Clown by himself. You had your suspicions of said reasons, and you were screaming on the inside, begging him to not do this alone – to actually allow himself to depend on his crew for once. But, you kept your mouth shut, just like everyone else. 

You and Law had gotten close over the years since you joined the Heart Pirates, way back when it was a small band of six. Aside from his three childhood friends, you knew him more than anyone else on this submarine.

However, before all that, he was your Captain first, and you have always held a deep respect for his authority. The only thing you could do right now, as his crew member, was to follow his orders. As a friend, though, you could feel your heart clenching with immense worry for him. 

Law’s expression was stern and unyielding. He was holding his hat in his hands, leaving his eyes bare as he stared down his crew, daring them to voice an objection to his command. 

A sniffle broke the silence, and you looked to your right to find Bepo quivering as he tried to hold back his tears. You rubbed your palm softly against his back to console him, despite your being in emotional turmoil yourself.

You knew Law had probably told Bepo about the plan beforehand, seeing as he was one of the Captain’s closest confidants, and also the fact that his birthplace was supposedly the Polar Tang’s next destination. 

Penguin was the first to speak up. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands once to get the crew’s attention, “Alright, folks, you heard the Captain. We’re not far from Punk Hazard – should be arriving by dawn tomorrow. We’ll drop off the Captain there, then we’ll immediately set course for Zou.”

“Is that all, Captain?" Shachi stood up, the screech of his metal chair scraping the floor piercing the air, "I have some chores I need to get to.”

Law’s gaze softened in gratitude at his best friends’ effort to diffuse the tense atmosphere, “Yes, you’re all dismissed.”

A weak chorus of “Aye, aye, Sir” echoed throughout the hall as the Heart Pirates dispersed, clearing the tables and bringing their empty dishes to the kitchen sink. The crew had barely finished dinner when Law dropped the bomb with his announcement, but now, nobody could even recall what was on the menu anymore. 

You headed toward the sink. It was your turn to do the dishes tonight, and as much as you didn’t want to do it, a duty was still a duty. You unzipped your boiler suit halfway, took out your arms, and tied together the long sleeves on your waist, leaving your upper body in just a loose, white tank top. Then, you got to work.  

One by one, the Heart Pirates filed out of the room, until only one other person remained. 

Your Captain sat on the main table with his head clutched in his hands, still weighed down by the burden of telling his crew about his plan. Most of all, Law felt guilty for his selfishness. For ordering you all to leave him, when he knew that was the last thing his crew wanted. The Heart Pirates’ unconditional loyalty to him always left him abashed, but he also admired it. He truly couldn’t ask for a better crew, for better friends, for a better family... and now he was sending you all away. 

However, he also knew that he couldn’t in his right conscience involve his crew in his ridiculous ploy. This was not some random trouble the crew was used to while sailing through the Grand Line. This time, Law himself was going to purposefully stir the pot, inciting conflict that would have a warlord and an emperor going after his head. 

No, he couldn’t let all of you get caught in this mess. 

After a while, his eyes found you, watching your back silently as you worked. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choosing to focus on your chore. Dishes after dirty dishes, your hands worked on autopilot while your mind was going a million miles per hour, trying to figure out what to say to your Captain.

The sound of running water died as you turned off the tap, plunging the room into an even more excruciating silence. You were drying your hands on the towel hanging above the sink when you heard Law softly call out your name. 

You paused but refused to turn around, afraid that your face would betray all of the emotions you kept bottled inside. 

The tap, tap, tap of his shoes against the metal floor of the submarine felt more deafening than a cannon fire, growing louder and louder as he approached you. 

He was close, too close. You shuddered when his breath tickled the back of your neck as he called your name again. 

When you stayed silent, he asked, “Are you upset? That I didn’t tell you first about the plan?”

You couldn’t contain the slight shakiness in your voice as you replied, “I trust you know what you’re doing, Captain.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

His voice sounded so vulnerable that it broke you.

Your lips started trembling as tears pricked your eyes. You blinked them back stubbornly, not wanting Law to know how troubled you actually were about him leaving – how worried you were that he was going off alone into what seemed to be an evil scientist’s secret lair. 

Law’s hands came to rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. He placed his forehead gently upon your shoulder. You noticed that his hat was still absent, abandoned somewhere on the dining table. 

One of his hands hesitantly moved to your hip, his thumb slowly drawing circles on your clothed skin.

You couldn’t help feeling like a line was starting to be crossed here.

That thin, delicate line between friends and something more that you and Law had always tiptoed around.

“Law–“ You started to breathe out, but he cut you off. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. I wanted to. You know–“

It was your turn to cut him off as you shook your head, “You had no obligation to tell me first, Law. I’m one of your crew members, same as everybody else here. It was only right I found out when they did.” 

“I told Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi a few days ago.”

You rolled your eyes even though he can’t see it, “They’re different and you know it. I know how special they are to you.”

Law took his other hand away from the sink. His slender fingers ghosted over your waist tentatively, before he fully committed to wrapping both of his arms tightly around your middle. 

His uncharacteristically bold display of affection surprised you, leaving you breathless and your heart racing erratically. 

You and Law have had your fair share of casual hugs, but he had never held you so close like this before. 

He was holding you as if he never wanted to let go – as if you were the last life vest in a sinking boat. 

He shifted his head slightly, burying his face in your neck, and your face heated up at the feeling of his lips grazing your skin as he mumbled something unintelligible. 

“Come again?”

“I said,” He grasped your hips and turned you around to face him. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness between your faces, and his eyes met yours as he confessed, “You’re special to me too. More than you know.”

His forehead creased as he calculated his next words. 

”You’re more than just my crew member,” he paused before adding softly, the words nearly inaudible, “And… more than a friend.”

Your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest at his honesty. Until now, you refused to even entertain the possibility of your Captain returning your long-hidden feelings, not wanting to ruin the pleasant dynamics that you two already had. But with this… was it okay for you to finally hope for more? To want more?

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you about the plan?” Law continued, “I knew that even a slight look of disapproval from you would have me throwing the whole idea out the window. And I really can’t do that right now, not when the opportunity is right there. Not when I’m this close to my goal. I can't miss this chance.” 

He drew a breath resolutely, “You understand I have to go through with this, right? For Cora-san.”

There it was, you thought. You had figured that was why he wanted to do this by himself.

After years of sailing together, you had come to know bits and pieces about Law’s past – about Flevance and his family, about his white lead disease, and how he cured himself with the Op-Op Fruit. 

But he never told you how he got his Devil Fruit. Not until the night of his 26th birthday. 

You had found him alone on the deck of the Polar Tang, sitting under the sky full of stars with a barely sipped bottle of rum clutched in his hand.

“I’m now as old as he’d ever be.”

He had collapsed into your arms and told you all about Corazon then, the bottle of alcohol passed back and forth between you. 

That was the first and only time that you ever saw him cry. 

How could you possibly stop him from avenging the man he owed his life to?  

“Law, I’m not opposed to your plan.”

He let out a pleased sigh as you reached up and threaded your fingers in his hair. You chuckled softly, “From what little you told us, I could already tell it’s quite a brilliant one.”

The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk at your praise, but you continued, “I just wished there was a way for you to include us in it too. We’re your crew. Your family. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, “This is my mess. I can’t drag you all into this.”

“That’s what families do, Law.” You said with a small smile, “They drag themselves into each other’s messes all the time.”

You didn’t give him a chance to argue as you put a finger to his lips, “But, if you think this is the best way, then I trust you.”

His eyes shone with gratitude at your support, your understanding, and most importantly, the trust you had in him. 

He cupped your face in his hands and touched his lips gently to your forehead, “Thank you.”

The gesture somehow felt too much like a goodbye, and you didn’t like that. At all. 

Before he could pull away, you gripped the front of his sweatshirt, “Promise me you’ll come back to us.”

Law hesitated. 

And that was how you knew how little he considered his own safety in this grand scheme of his. He wasn’t even sure he could give his word that he’d safely return. 

“Law.” You said urgently, “Promise me.”

His heart fell when he saw your beautiful face painted with distress.

“The Heart Pirates need their Captain. We can’t lose you.” The tremble in your voice worsened with each word, “I can’t lose you.”

Law was a smart man, and the implication behind your emphasis was not lost on him. His hand found yours as he vowed, “I don’t know what will happen on that mission, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to get back to you.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You knew that once he put his mind to something, he’d damn well do anything to fulfill it.

“Can you promise me something too, then?”

You looked up at Law curiously, but nodded nonetheless. 

“Wait for me.” He said firmly, before continuing in a slightly lower voice, “Promise me you’ll be there for me. When this is all over.”

You knew that taking down Doflamingo would take a toll on him, even likely break him, physically and mentally. But, you’d be there for him – to help him pick up the pieces and rebuild them into something stronger – if that was what he wanted. Of course, you would. 

“I promise.” Your thumb caress his cheek tenderly, “I’ll wait for you at Zou.”

“Good,” Law said, and with that, he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you to him. 

You gasped when his lips crashed into yours. 

His lips were warm, and soft – softer than you could ever imagine. 

In his kiss, Law poured out all of his unsaid feelings, of his desperation and yearning, of his regrets for not doing this sooner. 

Your arms circled his neck, tugging him in as close as possible. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping your lips would also tell him what your words couldn't. 

It was the need for oxygen that finally broke you apart. 

The intense gaze in which Law looked upon you was too much for your heart to handle, so you buried your face into his chest instead. You could feel the strong, quick thumps of his heartbeat, and it satisfied you to know that the kiss affected him as much as it did you.

“You’re not fair,” You mumbled into his sweatshirt, “Doing that the night before you leave.”

“Sorry,” Law chuckled as he held you tight against him, “I couldn’t help myself.”

You stayed in each other’s embrace in the empty dining hall, under the harsh fluorescent lights. The temperature inside the submarine was low, as always, but you didn’t feel cold at all, wrapped in your Captain’s arms. 

“Stay with me tonight.”

You could only nod and follow along as he led you by the hand into his quarters. 

You both knew he needed to rest – he needed all the energy he could get to begin his mission at dawn – but the adrenaline from your earlier moment and the anxiety for what was coming kept sleep away from the both of you.

Law ended up giving you a detailed review of his plans as you both lay on his bed, outlining every single step of his mission from the beginning to the desired end. You felt yourself growing more and more confident of his chances the more you listened to his cunning and meticulously crafted ploy. 

The room was plunged into silence when Law finished recounting his plans. The seconds ticked by, becoming minutes, then hours. But however long time passed with your arms around each other, it still wasn’t enough for you. 

At one point, he reluctantly disentangled himself from you and reached into the bag he had packed for his mission. He took out a pristine sheet of paper, ripped a small piece from it, and gave it to you. 

You watched as the Vivre Card on your palm inched slowly in his direction.

“I want you to have it,” Law said as he closed your fist over the paper, “As long as it stays whole, you’ll know that I’m alright.”

You flung your arms around his neck, “I swear if so much as a wisp of smoke comes out of this piece of paper, I will find you and kill you myself.”

Law only chuckled as he held you once more. He was just about to say something when the jarring sound of a knock interrupted him.

You and Law jumped apart as Penguin’s voice came from behind the metal door, “Captain, we’re in range of Punk Hazard.” 

“I’ll be right out.” Law replied, his voice steady despite trying to hold back a laugh as he saw the panic in your face. 

You buried your burning face in your hands as Law finally let himself laugh once Penguin’s footsteps were out of earshot. 

When you were sure that Penguin was gone, you told Law, “I should probably get back to the bunks before anyone else wakes up.” 

Law didn’t want you to go just yet, but he nodded anyway. He peeked out the hallway, giving you the all-clear when he saw that it was empty. 

Before you stepped out of the room, you couldn’t resist stealing one more peck from his lips, leaving him stunned and red-faced. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, Captain.”

After you freshened up – thankfully without anyone inquiring where you were last night – you joined your crewmates on deck to see Law off. 

Punk Hazard’s half-ice, half-fire terrain was a menacing sight, and instantly, the worry you felt for Law came rushing back in. You forced yourself to calm down. You had faith in him, and after all, he promised he’d come back to you. 

Despite the crew's frustration when Law announced his plan yesterday, they were all smiles now, preferring to send their Captain off with high spirits and support rather than reproach. Your navigator’s eyes were still glassy with tears, but you could tell he was also trying to put on a brave face for his Captain. 

“Bepo!” Law clapped the mink’s shoulder, “Lead them safely to Zou for me, yeah?”

Bepo clung to him, rubbing his face all over Law’s and shedding white fur all over the front of his clothes, “Of course, Captain! I’ll make you proud!”

Law turned to his two other best friends, “You two are in charge. Don’t burn down my submarine.”

Penguin and Shachi mock-saluted him, the redhead grinning mischievously, “You can count on us. No promises that I wouldn’t take over the Captain's quarters in your absence, though!”

Law rolled his eyes at the joke, then turned to address the whole crew, his lips drawn in a thin smile. 

“Safe travels.” He said, as if your journey was even half as dangerous as his, “I’ll see you all at Zou.”

“Aye, aye, Sir!”

The formality broke away as the Heart Pirates smothered Law with hugs, pats on the back, and sloppy smooches on his cheeks. 

Law never seemed to show it, and he would rather die than admit it, but you knew he secretly enjoyed the attention from his overly affectionate crew. 

Once they all had their fill with the farewells, he turned to you at last. In full view of everyone, he pulled you into a tight embrace. 

Some eyebrows were definitely raised when he held you just a bit longer than what was deemed appropriate for a merely friendly hug.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered into his ear. 

You had lost count of how many promises had been exchanged between the two of you since last night, but he simply nodded, “I promise.” 

He subtly pressed his lips to your temple – just a touch, not enough to be noticeable by the rest of the crew. With a last squeeze, he released you and walked toward the railing. 

“Room.” 

The Heart Pirates cheered their good lucks and farewells once more as a massive blue dome surrounded the Tang, extending all the way to the edge of the island.

His eyes locked onto yours with determination, silently reassuring you that he’ll remember your promises. You gave him a small smile and a nod of encouragement. 

Law put his hand out in front of him and uttered, “Shambles!”

And then he was gone. 

In his place was a small frozen pebble that he had exchanged positions with.

You picked it up and rolled it around between your fingers, feeling the ice slowly melt as it met your warm hand. Your other hand reached into the pocket of your boiler suit, ensuring the piece of paper was still safely in your possession. You hung on to it as if it were Law’s lifeline, which it might as well be if you thought about it.  

The Heart Pirates went inside, preparing for the imminent sailing to Zou. No one said a word when you stayed behind on the deck, watching Punk Hazard getting smaller and smaller in the distance until it disappeared from the horizon.

The pebble eventually lost all of its coldness, and you pocketed it alongside the Vivre Card.

“Oi, the course is set." Penguin’s voice pulled you out of your trance, "We’re ready to submerge.”

He and Shachi positioned themselves on either side of you, throwing their arms around your shoulders. 

Penguin cleared his throat and grinned cheekily, “A little heads-up: the whole submarine is abuzz with the newest hot goss. Apparently, someone didn’t return to the bunks last night after dish duties.”

“That long-ass embrace you shared with the Captain before he left isn't helping your case either,” Shachi added unhelpfully. 

You groaned, mortified that the crew had likely put two and two together and suspected where you had spent the night.

“But seriously, though, what the hell was that?” Penguin bumped his shoulder to yours, “Did something happen between you two?” 

Shachi laughed, “What, did he finally grow some balls and admit his feelings to you?” 

Your silence and averted gaze were enough of an answer for them. 

The two gawked at your bashful reaction, not actually expecting Shachi’s guess to be spot on. They both knew about your and the Captain’s feelings for each other, and were even at the point where they thought of interfering, but it seemed like the two of you didn’t need their meddling after all. 

You grimaced as you noticed them eyeing each other with matching shit-eating grins.

This was going to be a long, long journey to Zou. 

a/n: I've been working on this fic for so long, it's quite unreal that I'm finally letting it see the light of day. If you've read my fics before then you'd know I mostly just write fluff, so writing this was kinda an experiment for me. I do want to get better at writing angst, though, so feedback is always appreciated! I really hope you enjoyed this fic <3

↳ masterlist

[cheolieji]

Seungcheol

warning: Smut,unprotected sex, breeding kink and idk what else im too lazy

A/N: This is in no way to say mingyu acts like this. it's just part of the fiction

not proofread

I'm lowkey bad at writing smut🫢

feel free to send requests!

check [17] (pink highlighted) to see my yes and no's

seungcheol is the type of guy to walk on the street side of the sidewalk

seungcheol is the protective boyfriend everyone wishes for

the perfect and clingy boyfriend

you wanna wear a short dress? go ahead, he can fight

a guy just looks at you the wrong way, his fist is tightened, his jaw is clenched, and his death glare... goddd if looks could kill

you love it when he's protective over you

but something happened that made you think, is he a little too protective?

now you're sitting in his living room beside him, hands rubbing against each other, nervous to say it

seungcheol, of course, notices this. "You okay hun?" "Yeah! why wouldn't i be?" weird... but he just nodded his head, turning his attention back to the show playing. the sound of tv playing in the background mixing with your thoughts, should you really ask him about something so little that could turn into a heated argument?

"Hey-" "babe-" "Yeah? you say it first"

"no its just uhm. i" his eyebrows raised in confusion. What are you trying to tell him?

"Okay. will you promise not to get mad?" "Of course baby, why would i get mad at you?

"You know how we went to the kims gathering?" he just nods "yeah and how mingyu kept looking at me and stuff?" "Where are we going with this" his eyebrows still raised

"Nothing like that. It's just the way you were glaring at him. felt a little.... i don't know.. rudee? I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. " "Ah, that? i know him, babe he doesn't have good intentions. when he looks at someone like that, it means he wants something out of them." he pauses for a second, "and plus, you're mine..."

you blushed in your seat

"okay good i guess... i thought you were being a little too protective"

"Hey. It's good to be protective over what's mine!" he giggles while hugging you and placing you on his lap. and you're straddling him now. Suddenly, the air shifts

noticing this, seungcheol pulls you in closer before pressing a kiss on your lips. It starts to turn into a makeout session with you grinding on him while heavy breathing leave your mouths

"Can i?" As he's looking down at your pants, you nodded. he takes your pants along with his off. "No panties? want me to fuck you that bad? huh?" You nod again, eyebrows furrowed. "Say it, baby, i wanna hear you" "yes please cheol just fuck me, please"

he teases your opening with his dick before slowly entering your already wet cunt. shit did he get bigger?

"You feel so good, baby, just for me." Now he's fully inside you. He waited a bit for you to get used to his size

he's balls deep inside you, and you're a moaning mess, but he's looking at you like you're the prettiest thing in the world

he's hitting all the right spot "ah- cheol please" your gummy walls wrapped around his thick cock feels like heaven, for the both of you

he's leaving hickeys all over your neck as you're riding him like there's no tomorrow

bouncing on his dick as you're moaning his name loudly. it's like music to his ears

you feel the familiar pit in your stomach "fuck cheol im gonna cum" he lets out a loud grunt before cumming inside you "fuck ill fill you with my babies"

" gonna make you forget about that fucker" he continues thrusting inside you until you reached your high before softly kissing you

you let out a loud moan before falling on his shoulder. "You know, if you wanna put babies inside me, we should probably do more." "you wanna move it to the bedroom?" he carries you to the bedroom for a night of pleasure

[eempyreall]

♪𝑂𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑒♪

༺ The Past Follows ༻

Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader

Summary ~ You must pay your dues for leaving them.

Featuring ~ Sano Manjiro and Kurokawa Izana

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

“What is this?” You breathe out.

Your arms are tightened to your sides as your head hangs low. The rope wrapped around your upper body embeds into your skin—a bruised hue forming from its unyielding grip.

You sluggishly pull against the metal cuffs that keep your wrists constricted together. You huff in frustration as you drop your hands against your lap. Your knees are pressed together, your bare feet planted against the cemented, wet floor.

Your naked body trembles against the metal chair, your figure soaked with cold water dripping off your skin.

“WHAT IS THIS?!” you screech as you violently shake against the restraints.

You had been forced awake by a large wave of water. You search the spacious, dark room for the culprit. A flickering bulb is your only source of light.

You are confused by your surroundings. Questions appear in the space of your mind as your emotions become a chaotic swirl of anxiety and anger. Humiliation burns at the way you are forced to present yourself in this unknown setting.

The sound of footsteps grows louder the closer they get to your shivering form. They are slow, the figure taking their time to appear in front of your naked body.

The only sounds prominent are the slow footsteps echoing toward your shivering form and your ragged breathing. Your eyes widen as black shoes appear in your vision.

“Still drowning within your own rage, I see.”

That voice.

Your irises shift to the familiar male who has exposed his presence to you. Sharp eyes meet your gaze as your bewildered expression drops to a scowl. A grin stretches across the tanned male’s face, his arms hidden behind his back.

“Izana,” you hiss, hatred seething from your tone as you glare at the man. “Let me go, now.”

Fingers snatch your chin in a tight hold before his upper body bends down to your height. The corners of his mouth are still shaped upward, but you are familiar with the darkness that lurks under his guise.

“You’re the one tied down to a chair, and yet you think you can demand me to do anything?” he questions, bitterness dripping from his tone.

He releases his hold by shoving your face to the side before taking a step back.

You scoff as you watch him wipe the moisture off on his uniform.

“Why am I here? You already won. What else do you want?!” you exclaim in frustration.

“What else do I want?” he whispers to himself in mock contemplation, finger and thumb connecting with his chin. “Tell me, Y/n. What did I win?”

“Mikey, I can’t do this anymore,” you inform the blonde man who sits on the sofa in your living room with an arm slung over his propped knee.

His dark eyes shift to your own. You find the icy gaze as unrecognizable as the behavior you have recently witnessed.

“You’ve become a person that I want nothing to do with. You allowed your brother to change you.”

“What are you talking about?” he responds calmly, his expression unreadable.

“Ever since Izana came into the picture, you’ve become a completely different person. You cut off all our friends, you’ve associated yourself with the wrong crowd, and you’ve sunk deeper into the gang world. You’re dangerous, and I want no part of it,” you respond, your voice shaky as you ignore the lump in your throat.

You wonder what happened to your high school sweetheart. You understand that when people hit a certain age, a lot can change. However, this was not a normal condition.

Mikey has become cold, void of any emotions. He’s getting to know people who are associates of various drug cartels. You even overheard a conversation between him and Izana that indicated he has killed people recently. You can’t be involved with a murderer, no matter how much you care about him.

You knew that Izana was bad news when you first met him. He's always had a suspicious look to him. He was very secretive, snakelike as he slithered into your life.

The last straw was when you were completely drunk. The bedroom was pitch black. You thought you were making love to Mikey, but when you woke up the next day, you saw who the culprit was. Izana stood across from your sleeping form with a bare chest, leaning against your dresser. The smug look on his expression made you want to stab him.

You screamed, shouting and hitting him before rushing out of the room. You felt sick, violated. You wanted to scrub your skin raw.

When you told Mikey, you couldn't believe how indifferent he was to the situation. You could only stare at him in disbelief after he said, "Okay."

You questioned him and his sanity. You ranted about how crazy his brother is. You told him how Izana violated your boundaries and deceived you. You even grabbed Mikey's shoulders and shook him, tears streaming down your face in anger.

He only removed your hands before turning away. You watched as he walked out of the front door.

"He gave me permission, you know," Izana said from behind you. Your eyes widened as you turned back to him.

You didn't respond, staring into the empty space once Izana had walked back to the bedroom. For some reason, you believed him.

You knew you had lost Mikey. The man you had been with for years, since you were both in your youth, was a completely different person. This man... this man was sick.

Before you could walk off, your wrist was snatched, pulling you closer to the blonde.

The palms of his hands grasped your face as he held you with a look of intensity, desperation seeping through his words.

"I thought you loved me," he whispered, his pupils shrinking.

Your hands grabbed onto the back of his as you squeezed his skin.

"You let him violate me!" you cried. "You let him take you away from me! You allowed him to destroy everything we built-!"

"You don't know what you're fucking talking about," he growled with a scowl before throwing you back and releasing your face.

"You're sick, Manjiro! You need fucking help," you yell back, catching your balance after stumbling.

"Y/n..."

You watched as he sat on the couch, his back bent as he leaned over his legs.

"If you leave me..."

Your eyes widened, his expression blocked by the strands of hair covering his face as he eyed the floor.

He lifted his head, the look in his dark eyes penetrating your soul.

"I'll kill you."

"Don't fucking play stupid with me, Izana," you say through gritted teeth as you struggle against the restraints.

"Such choice words for someone who's tied to a chair," he chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Another pair of footsteps captures your attention as you look in the direction of a figure emerging from the darkness. You gasp when your eyes land on the man with slicked-back blonde hair.

"Mikey?"

The sound of a gun cocking echoes throughout the room as the barrel of the weapon presses against your head. Your eyes widen at the unfortunate circumstance.

"Guess you should've listened to his warning, hm? Running away with your tail between your legs wasn't such a good idea," Izana beams, while Mikey stares down at you with an expressionless gaze.

You feel your heart accelerating, the rhythmic thumps pounding in your ears. You take a deep breath and shut your eyes as you wait in anticipation.

"You're always so ready to disappear. You're not even trying to fight for your life."

Mikey's deep voice catches you off guard, and you open your eyes. You look up at him with a teary gaze.

"What's the point? You're fulfilling the promise you made," you say lowly, your voice shaky.

He only stares down at you in silence.

"Fortunately, we have a proposition for you, Y/n," Izana says as he walks closer to your figure.

You suddenly feel exposed under both pairs of eyes as you are forced to sit naked in place.

"Be ours..."

"..Or die."

“M—Mikey, please slow down!” You plead as tears stream down your face, the headboard rocking against the wall at a fast pace.

You hear deep breathing near your shoulder as you feel moisture form on your neck. You listen to his cries as his hips pistoned against yours. You could barely breathe as his arms tightened around your upper body, his cock penetrating your gushing pussy.

Your hands reach his shoulders as he pulls back, knees repositioning against the bed as his hands grasp your face. You stare wide-eyed at his teary gaze. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts harder, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head as you feel the overwhelming intrusion.

“You left me,” he whispered, causing guilt to build in your chest.

“Y—you know I had to, M—Mikey,” you grunt.

“My name, Y/n. I wanna hear you say my name,” he groaned while his nails pierced your face, his grip tightening.

“M—Manjiro! Please slow down,” you cried.

“This is a result of his sorrow festering while you were gone. You should take responsibility,” Izana said as he climbed onto the bed.

Mikey’s hands release your face as he pulls your body up by your thighs, causing you to yelp in surprise. You grunt as Mikey detached his cock from you, passing you to Izana as tanned fingers grip under your thighs.

“Hold on! I never agreed to this!” You exclaim, your hands placed on Mikey’s shoulders for balance.

“Shut up and take your punishment,” Izana hissed near your ear just as the tip of his cock pierced your anal opening. You cry in agony as it stretches you uncomfortably.

“P—please, Izana!”

He pulls both of you back as he lies on the bed, lifting his hips to fit snugly into your ass. Mikey climbs in between your legs once more, leaning over your figure as he pressed himself against your vagina. You bite your bottom lip with your nose scrunched, eyes shut tightly as you breathe through the pressure from both of your inner walls.

Moments later, you couldn’t stop the cries that slipped from your mouth. The head of your former boyfriend’s cock beating against your g-spot, combining with the fullness of his brother’s cock protruding your ass. You curse as your eyes roll into the back of your head, saliva sliding down your chin as Izana whispers filthy words into your ear and Mikey gazes at you with lust-filled eyes.

Your body jolts as you release a gut clenching orgasm, your inner walls clenching around both men, causing them to fill you up with their semen, final grunts slipping from their mouths.

For the rest of the night, there wasn’t a moment for you to breathe. They fucked you, mercilessly. They used your body even when you were knocked out. They used you even when you woke back up. Mikey fucked his anger and sorrow into you. Izana fucked his frustration and anger into you.

Even when the men went to clean up in the shower, they fucked into your weak body. It was a clear message. A message of pure dominance. You knew that there would be no running away this time.

You’ve always known that the past would eventually catch up to you.

[earlgreylatte]

Love To Highball

The Star Sapphire notices that Hal’s affections have strayed and decides you are to be its new host in order to mate with the aforementioned Green Lantern.

Coast City was once a bubbling metropolitan with a population that exceeded seven million, the busiest harbour on the west coast. Even while constantly being called into space, Hal liked being the hero of Coast City. Now he could only hope for days like that to return, if he even deserved it. Besides the liveliness of the city, another thing Hal missed about Coast City was the food. Prawns, lobster, pan seared salmon. God, he really missed that taco cart near his old apartment.

The Coast City of now was built over the rubble that hid the corpses of its old inhabitants, unable to be found.

It took a year of construction for the city to be rebuilt, but it was still nothing more than a ghost town, devoid of people. It was to be expected that no one would be jumping at moving, survivors included. After all, not every city has a cyborg Superman obliterate it.

But even then, Hal couldn’t call the city dead. Not when you were there.

He hadn’t been expecting you to move to the newly developed city, much less open a cafe where you’d be lucky to get a single customer.

When he asked, you only shrugged and said you didn’t need the money. He had already figured you could take the loss, trust fund kid you are, but he didn’t understand why you were basically tossing cash down the drain when you could be living it up anywhere else.

You said you liked the conversations you get, fostered by your empty little cafe.

Even Hal, who was never into the whole cafe scene, could admit he liked having you just to himself in a building that was covered in traces of you, from the cute little mugs you used, the posters decorating your walls, and the way you had more tea than coffee on your menu.

He’s broken from his reverie when you place his drink on the counter, arching his eyebrow when it’s clearly not the drink that he ordered.

“Uh, did you get my order mixed up with an imaginary customer or do you just not pay attention when I speak?” Hal asks, shooting you an amused glance, already used to you heckling him in the little ways.

“Usually the second one, but I’m tired of you always ordering drip coffee. I thought you were supposed to be adventurous, Mister Space Cop,” you retort leaning against the counter as he becomes increasingly aware of your proximity. “Besides, isn’t it pretty? A matcha latte with lavender, it’s green like you, too! And, I think you’re in need of something colourful, Highball.”

“Definitely colourful,” Hal remarks. “What would you serve Spooky?”

“Instant coffee or something, god knows he doesn’t care about taste,” you roll your eyes before nudging the mug closer to him, “Try it.”

Hal makes a show of sighing, reaching for his drink, “Better be on your dime, if you’re going to just do your own thing.”

“No way, you’re paying full price.”

“You said you didn’t care about the money, and you let Howie and Jane eat free,” Hal protests.

“Because they’re cute, despite being related to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not cute, Miss Wayne?”

You place a fist against your mouth, humming in thought, “Well, maybe in a sad, old dog kind of way.”

Hal sputters. Yes, only you can toss him around the ring like this.

You continue your observation, reaching a hand to tousle his hair, “The way your hair is kind of growing out definitely isn’t helping you. Well, not that I dislike it.”

“Bit hard to keep track of haircuts with the life I’m living,” Hal retorts, lightly grabbing your wrist to release his hair. He holds it for a second, feeling the pulse beneath flesh before letting go.

He sees your eyes soften, as you furrow your brow in sympathy, ���Hal—“

Whatever you’re about to say is interrupted when a pink explosion shatters the glass of your cafe, pushing you two and the surrounding tables back.

Hal blinks, ears ringing as he finds himself slumped on the group, back pressed against the counter that separated you two.

He tries to stand, placing a hand on your now crumbling floor, calling out your name, when a crisp and familiar voice rings out in the destruction.

“Oh, honey,” Star Sapphire, who was once again inhabiting the body of his ex-girlfriend and boss, Carol, stood in her full pink glory, gem shining proudly on her forehead, “You’re not cheating on me, are you?”

She thrusts a hand forward to grip his neck, as he groans out her name, barely believing she was here and possessed once again.

“Carol?”

She smirks, not in the confident, self assured way Carol always did, leaning in closer, until he could feel his breath mixing with her, “Yes.”

She kisses him before he can react, feeling the sheer power of the Star Sapphire injecting into his veins, paralyzing him, before a shot rings out and the woman is pushed away from, stumbling as she clutches the crystal embedded in her head.

You keep your shotgun pointed at the intruder, scratched and bruised, but alive and grinning, “Bullseye, but not enough to get that stone off, I guess.”

The other woman turns to you with fury in her eyes, “Know your place, you usurper!”

She raises her hand, pink light flaring out, strong enough to force you to avert your gaze, but before she can advance, green tendrils wrapped around her, pinning her wrists together.

“There’s enough of me to go around, ladies,” Hal jests, but the look on his face is anything but joking as he shoots you a glance. You duck out of the way.

“A queen does not share,” Star Sapphire rejects, writhing against her bonds.

“You can have him,” you reply, dropping your gun, already sore from her attack and the strain of having to actually pull out the weapon Alfred insisted you bring. God, your wrists hurt.

“Definitely going to circle back to the fact you’re packing heat, young lady,” Hal teases, tossing Sapphire out through the open whole of your wrecked cafe, far into the sky.

You follow him out of the cafe, rushing to keep up with the flying hero, “Talk to me, goose! Do you want me to call for backup?”

Hal chokes on a laugh. Damn, he regrets watching ‘Topgun’ with you.

“If your brother finds out I got you into this situation, I might have to skip out on this galaxy,” Hal denies, “Stay here, I’ll take care of her before you can even snitch on me.”

You scoff watching him fly off, constructing a baby Cupid to restrain Sapphire once again, “I mean, I have to call him. No way, I’m cleaning this up on my own, or using your dumbass constructs.”

“Carol, hang tight, I’m going to pry that rock off of you,” Hal reassures, nearly reaching her, before she presses her hands against the construct, melting it as she grins sinisterly.

“I feel a conflict,” Sapphire raises her arms, as she sends a strong shockwave to send Hal flying, “Your heart beats for another.”

She dives down, heading straight in your direction, “Her.”

The rock lifts from Carol’s head as she lets out a scream, the scarps of her outfit dissolving, you stumble against the broken pavement, making a break for it, “No, no way am I wearing that outfit—!”

You’re once again interrupted when you hear a disjointed voice call your name, “You are a body he desires.”

Carol falls out of the sky as the rock attaches itself to you, breaking down the barriers of your mind. “Why do you resist? I have read your mind. You will enjoy this. After all, you want him as much as I do.”

Hal curses, catching Carol, while wrapping her in a towel construct, watching as pink light swirls around you, already prepared for a renewed onslaught.

Carol calls his name, “I saw it all this time. I know what the Star Sapphire is. They come from Sector 1416, the Zamorans.”

Hal knew she was talking about the aliens that initially kidnapped her to be the host of their Queen, but neither were fully aware of their intentions, or the rock’s intentions with Hal.

Before they can continue, you cut in, coated in the glossy pink material Carol was wearing, skin he’s never seen before now revealed, smirking as you speak in a distorted bastardization of your voice, “Tell me, Hal, is this the body you prefer? It’s awfully yummy.”

Before Hal can reply, he has to evade a magenta laser, as you chase after him as he leads you out of the city. “I know you want me. I want you too, Hal Jordan. I want this whole planet. But first— I want you to drop the brunette!”

Hal does his best to ignore your voice, already beating himself up for putting you into this situation. Not that there’s much point, seeing as how your brother would give him a verbal lashing that would outdo any of the self deprecating thoughts he had.

“So, Wayne, huh? I’ve visited her cafe when I heard she moved. Should probably send her an apology card; for the cafe and having to deal with you,” Carol remarks from his arms, a certain edge in her voice.

“We’re not like that.” Hal responds, as your aggravated screams echo from behind him. He can feel the disbelieving stare Carol gives him.

Feeling the need to defend you two, he elaborates, “We both run in some of the same circles, she’s a good friend.”

Carol smiles ruefully, “Keep telling yourself that, Flyboy.”

Feeling you get closer, Hal sends another construct your way to slow your approach.

“You’ve chosen this body, haven’t you? So, I’ve taken it. I’m yours. Why do you still play games, Hal Jordan?” You call, before shooting a laser, ripping through the Green Cowboy he made. “Our union will be pleasurable.”

“I’ve gotta get that off her,” Hal states, frustrated with the cat and mouse game you’ve been playing thus far.

Carol speaks up. She recollects how she remembers all of the Sapphires moves when she was in control, and the memories of before. There was more than one Star Sapphire. That the Zamorans were once from Oa but left when the Guardians established the Corps. That they searched for something to match the rings, something that the Guardians would fear. And how they finally found it on the planet Zamoran, growing from the entangled skeletons of lovers, the Star Sapphire shined, born from the violet glow of love that continued in death. The moment they tried to grasp that rock, it attached itself to a Zamoran, taking three days to remove it. After that, they begun their experiments.

They chose Carol as one of them. It took control, before finding someone else, whoever Hal was with, seeking to mate and kill the Green Lantern of this planet so its spawn could take over, encasing every living cell with crystal. An act of protection, in their eyes. Hal shudders, he did not want you going all praying mantis on him, nice as you did look in pink.

Hal shakes his head, “Is that what the Zamorans think love is, Carol? Encasing life in crystal? Putting it in suspended animation? Love isn’t about control.”

Love was flowery green drinks and stupid movie references.

“The Zamorans think it is, Hal.” Carol reiterates.

“They’ve been isolated for billions of years. They’ve twisted what love means,” Hal disagrees.

“What does it mean? You’ve never even liked to say the word.” Carol bites.

He thinks of the way your eyes always seem to melt with emotion, fingers that brush against his cheeks before pinching down, as a mischievous laugh follows.

“Actions speak louder than words,” Hal deflects.

“For you, maybe.” Carol jabs, before slumping, the tension leaving her as the two see you catch up again. “So, Wayne? She’s the one, right? You’ve always had a soft spot for her, even before you…left.”

Hal stays silent for a moment, biting his lip. “…yes.”

“Enough teasing! Let’s find a spot!” You yell, using a burst of speed to tackle him, crashing into a hotel with a gaudy sign that read ‘Honeymoon’.

Hal could only use his ring to cushion Carol’s fall as you used your fist to strike him down, crashing against a rubble covered, Queen sized bed, as he lets out a moan of pain. From the corner of his eye, he can see two newly weds quickly evacuate the now broken room. Not the best start for their new lives together.

“What do you love, Hal Jordan? Do you love Earth?” You ask as you pounce on him pinning his wrists against the ground, as crystal begins to encase them, submerging his ring. “Do you love this ring? Do you love me?”

Yes.

You bring your hands up, covered by gloves that made your fingers resemble claws.

“I don’t do this on the first date, Miss Wayne.” Hal breathes out, watching as Carol approaches you, holding kindling from the ruined fireplace.

You smile down at him, and for a moment he can believe it’s really you that wants him, that he hasn’t fucked you over like he always does with everyone else.

“Oh, darling,” You smile turns feral as you run your fingers down his chest, tearing through his uniform. “…Super heroes don’t lie.”

Carol smashes the flaming log against your head, “You’ve never met Green Arrow.”

If you were yourself right now, you would probably share a tale how during a party, a drunk Oliver wandered to your room, threw up in your bed, and then promptly passed out. That much, Hal was sure of.

Using your distracted state, he breaks free from the crystals binding his wrists as you lay on the floor disoriented.

Before he can tell Carol to leave, she demands Hal to make her a suit. Heirs and their need to fight villains, Hal laments, encasing her in green light as you stumble to your feet.

“I kept Carol Ferris alive in case you changed your mind, but now I will burn her flesh—!” You cry out as Carol slams a fist into your chest, sending you through the wall and into the parking lot below.

“You should know better than to write checks you can’t cash out, Wayne!”

You hit her with a burst of violet light, slamming her into a car, “And green isn’t your colour!”

Hal picks up a car, decorated with a ‘Just Married’ sign, and crushes you with it, wincing even though he knew you would be without injury.

“That’s more your colour, right? That, or purple.” Hal snarks, knowing you couldn’t send back your usual remarks. Not until he got rid of that stupid rock. “…If you can hear me, I’m sorry.”

You struggled under the vehicle that pinned you down, “Hal..? What’s going on? Bruce is going to kill you when he finds out—!”

Hal shoots a laser down onto the rock, “Don’t roleplay. I know you’re in control until the jewel comes off.”

“I’ll be anyone you want,” you plead with teary eyes, but he only grits his teeth, trying to work the gem off you. “Hal…”

He’d make it up to you. Anything you wanted. Even if you asked him to pick a fight with Wonder Woman, he’d do it.

Carol calls his name but a portal emerges from above, blowing the two back. Zamorans, clad in pink armour appear, standing above your unconscious body.

Yes, today was definitely not his day. Or yours, seeing how they wanted to keep you and Carol as members of their corps for all time.

Hal quickly sends out a bomb of green light, knocking the intruders away as Carol approaches you with a discarded Zamoran spear.

“This is going to sting, Wayne.” She forces the blade down prying the rock off of you, the forced removal causing an explosion that knocks back Hal and the Zamorans.

You awaken with a killer headache while lying on rubble, fully nude. Carol isn’t any better, tossing you a t-shirt as she shucks on some granny pajamas. She actually might be better off than you, seeing how your shirt says ‘I am easy’.

“Don’t suppose you’re willing to switch?”

“Not on your life, Wayne.”

The two of you rush out of the parkade you were collapsed in, seeing Hal slumped down, the Zamorans pointing their spears towards his neck.

“You have power equal to the Guardians, Green Lantern. If you don’t allow the Star Sapphire to love you, we will force you to accept it in whatever way we deem,” they coldly remark.

“Hal!”

Before you can approach him, the discarded gem shoots out of the building behind you, encasing you and Carol in crystal, forcing you two to still, unable to even struggle.

“Choose your mate, Hal Jordan. I will make your fantasies come true,” The rock orders, “Carol Ferris. You’ve spent the best and worst days of your life with her.”

It calls your name as you watch a Zamoran slam Hal’s head into the ground, “She’s become your sanctuary. She lets you look to the future. Choose.”

“Choose someone. Okay.” Hal grits out, bringing a hand to grab the Zamoran restraining him. “C’mere, Gorgeous.”

He pulls the alien into a passionate kiss as Carol lets out a noise of disgust.

Hal has pretty good tongue game, it seems.

They pull away, with a string of salvia dripping from the aliens lips, “What are you doing, Guardian dog!?”

“Trying not to throw up,” Hal replies smugly.

“He has chosen neither of you,” The rock notes before zipping to the baffled Zamoran, sticking to her head despite her cries of protest

A new Star Sapphire emerges as the other Zamorans watching with dismay as they are forced to retreat with lest their ally becomes possessed for eternity.

“So, you threw a little affection, and the rock fell for it?” Carol asks in shock as Hal uses his ring to chip away the crystal that encased you two.

“I’m definitely telling everyone this,” You grin.

“That I saved you from being the host to love maniacs? Be my guest,” Hal laughs, relieved that your giggles fill the air.

After seeing Carol off, you two return to what’s left of your cafe.

“Guess I’ll have to temporarily close.” You remark, turning when Hal calls your name.

“I’m sorry. I put you on their radar, they might come back. I’m still stationed on Earth for now, so I’ll check the area regularly. I won’t let them ever pull something like this—!” You interrupt his rant by placing a finger against his lips.

“Hal, I’m from Gotham. I’m more than used to be held hostage by freaks. Was I ever possessed? No, but it’ll make a good story next time I go back home,” you smile.

How can you smile like that, he wonders.

“Don’t tell your brother?” He murmurs against your pointer finger.

“He probably knew the moment Sapphire blew us up,” you laugh, hands coming up to cradle his face as he groans in dismay.

“And we just got back on good terms. Guess I’m back on the naughty list.”

“Well, it was inevitable, don’t you think?” You spoke quietly, drawing his face closer to yours.

“What do you mean?” He whispers, barely able to force the words out before you press your lips against his.

He wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer as he deepens the kiss.

When you let out a noise, Hal knows that he’s more than willing to have the entirety of the Bat clan after him when you fit so well in his arms.

From the ‘Mystery of the Star Sapphire’ issues by Johns! And yes, we have Bruce’s baby sis as the reader. I think she becomes a Blue Lantern in Blackest Night like Barry…and yes the cafe is ‘coffee talk’ inspired!

Also omg sometimes I check people’s blogs from my notifs if they have a cool name, and literally the second post was someone’s…thing. I was in the kitchen! My mother was ten feet away! God why!!!!

Masterlist

[last-herondale]

You Are Enough Pt. 2

Astarion x fem!Tav

Warnings: Mention of blood, blood drinking

Fluff and angst are the name of this game

AN: I love Astarion. That is all.

Part 1

Enjoy 🤘🏼

Gale blasted a fireball at a shadow creature, missing Karlach’s head by mere inches as she swung down her axe into another cursed corpse. You gave out a cry of alarm as a tall slender shadow sliced its claws at you, grazing the front of your armor as it growled menacingly.

Before you could return an attack, a flash of steel bore through its chest with a terrible shriek. The creature erupted into a mass of shadows, exposing a wild eyes Astarion with his dagger in hand.

“Damn these blasted shadows!” He growled as he took your flank, preparing himself for another fight.

“Tell me about it,” you panted, locking your eyes on a shadow creeping closer to Gale. You readied an arrow of guiding bolt and fired it square in its back. It shrieked and shriveled up slightly before disappearing.

“Retreat to the Inn!” You yelled out to Gale and Karlach, “the shadows can’t reach us there!”

Even now, you could see the faint glow from the last light inn. It was only a mile away. If you could just make it back…

“Look out!” Karlach bellowed out a warning.

You turned to see a large shadow loom in front of you, catching you by surprise. Its dark claws were poised for the attack as you were frozen in fear. Then you felt the wind get knocked out of you as you were knocked to the floor. You felt a familiar weight on top of you as a cold wind seemed to envelope your senses.

Astarion cried out in pain, and he winced as he protected your body from the talons of the monster. You heard Gale say an incantation as a burst of light erupted from his hands.

Karlach was before you now, helping Astarion to his feet as Gale helped you up from the ground.

“Hurry soldier, this way!” Karlach yelled, nearly carrying Astarion towards the safety of the inn. You could hear the screams from the shadow creatures behind you, but you booked it for the armored gates.

As soon as you crossed the threshold into the inn, you felt your body relax as you panted from the exhaustion.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, looking around to your companions.

Karlach seemed no worse for wear, only slightly banged up from her fight. Gale seemed drained from the battle, his brow sweaty and clothes rumpled. It was Astarion now, who looked hunched over in pain.

“Astarion!” You said, running up to him to examine his injuries. “Oh, your back!”

“It’s nothing,” Astarion assured, “Just a scratch is all. It’ll heal up on its own.”

He straightened up his stance, rolling his shoulders nonchalantly as if it was just a mere discomfort. “Now, I think I may see what wine Jahiera has to offer. I think I’ve earned myself a bottle or two.”

He sauntered off towards the inn, seemingly fine and relaxed, however you noticed a slight hitch in his step as he walked. You narrowed your eyes.

It had been a week since that night in the woods. The night he relinquished you from your obligation to satiate his hunger. He no longer fed from you. It was his choice and you honored it. You didn’t expect to feel so… mournful over this decision.

If he had been feeding from someone else in the party, you couldn’t pinpoint who. You looked for any signs of newly formed connection between Astarion and any of your companions, but found none that would be willing to share their blood with a vampire. The thought of him feeding with someone else made your chest ache in an odd way.

Astarion seemed himself enough, until three days ago when you and your party entered the shadow cursed lands. You thought maybe the loss of the sun had changed his moods, but now you had a new theory. And you planned on testing it.

After dinner, you watched Astarion attend to his bottle of wine as he hurried back to his quarters. He still held a limp in his step as he walked up the stairs. You followed behind him, knocking on the door a few moments after he closed them.

“I have no need of company,” he said flatly.

“I wasn’t asking,” you said smugly on the other end of the door. For a moment you thought you could hear a faint laugh.

The door opened slightly, his tousled white hair curled around his cheekbones, making him look like a god in the moonlight. There was a playful grin on his lips as his eyes raked over you. You noted faint dark circles under his eyes.

“Hello darling,” he mused, “I’m afraid I was just about to turn in—“

“Before a nightcap?” You asked playfully, holding up two glasses in your hands. “After that battle I think we deserve a toast.” You pushed yourself into his room, setting the glasses on a table as you sat down in a chair to pour the wine.

Astarion sighed and closed the door, joining you at the table. You noticed he winced as he sat down, being careful not to touch his back to the chair. You handed him his glass, your eyes watching him cautiously. He met your gaze, but he seemed to exhausted to notice your curious stare.

You raised your glass. “To your health, Astarion,” you said with a soft smile. Astarion looked pleasantly surprised at your toast. He smiled, clinking his glass to yours.

“And to yours, my sweet.”

The two of you took a drink. You stopped after a sip, but Astarion down the glass, savoring every bit of the drink. His eyes flickered to you a moment, a flash of emotion crossed his face before he quickly returned his eyes to his glass.

Your chest ached when you looked at him. He was keeping something from you, keeping something vital from himself.

“Astarion,” you said ever so tenderly.

He looked up at you again, his curiosity peaked with your emotional call of his name. There was a small smile on his lips as he waited for you to continue.

“When is the last time you fed?”

His smile fell away. “Just yesterday.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, really. I drank more than enough. That’s why I was so daring on the battle field today. Couldn’t you tell?”

He was trying to play up the show, but you knew him well enough now to know when he was lying. He stood up from the table, put his back to you to save face but the sight of him made you suck in a breath.

“Astarion!” You gasped. You were up from your chair and to him in the next moment. Blood was seeping through his white shirt in three harsh lines. He wasn’t healing as he should be, and you knew this to be from one thing.

“It’s fine, darling. Just a scratch.”

You ran your hands gently over his shoulders, trying not to touch his wounds.

“Remove your shirt,” you demanded, lifting the fabric off of his shoulders.

“Darling I’m fine,” he complained, but he didn’t shrug you away as you removed his shirt from his skin. The three jagged marks on his pale skin stood out horridly to your eye. You winced at the sight of them, your fingertips brushing the old scars on his back.

“Oh Astarion, you’re starving yourself,” you whispered, “Why?”

He turned to face you slowly, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes raked over your face, and he looked pained.

“I—“ it wasn’t often that Astarion was at a loss for words. You placed a gentle hand on his chest, your eyes searching his. It had been a while since you were this close to him, and you reveled in the smell of him.

“Talk to me,” you begged, “please… I don’t understand.”

Astarion sighed, letting his hand graze your face, his fingertips brushing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered a moment as his breath hit your face.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me anymore…” he started. You opened your mouth to speak but he put a finger to your lips. “At first I thought you were an easy target. Someone I could lure into an alliance and use to my survival. I thought it was working fine. You were willing enough to let me feed from you, willing enough to let me close to you— but when I tried to seduce you at the Tiefling party, you refused me.”

You remembered that night well. A proposition for some late night fun. And while you were feeling the high of the party and a few glasses of mead, you were shocked with yourself when you denied Astarion’s invitation to bed. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, quite the opposite was true in fact. However, you could sense some hesitation from him that night. As if he had done this dance before, as if it was a second nature to him.

You had smiled, kissed his cheek and said, “Not tonight.”

He had seemed almost… pleased with the result.

“You are not at all what I expected,” he murmured, caressing your face, “An unexpected complication in my plan. I never intended… to feel the way I do now… to care about someone’s wellbeing other than my own. And I find that I care about yours very much.”

His words made your heart flutter. You felt tears well up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away. “I don’t want to take from you anymore. You’re too important to me…” he whispered as if it was painful to admit.

“You’re important to me too,” you replied, “I am not doing this out of obligation, Astarion… I’m doing this out of lo—“

“Don’t say it—“ he begged, “please. I don’t know if I can say it back… I don’t know how to feel what I’m feeling for you.”

His breathing was ragged as his eyes searched yours. You understood then, that saying what you knew to be true was not what he needed. He was trapped in a world where words and declarations were thrown around, painted pretty lies. You needed to show him.

Your hand drifted down his chest, your eyes still locked with his. You swiped the dagger from his belt before he could realize what you were doing. With a quick motion of the dagger, you cut into the soft part of your wrist. His eyes immediately went to your wrist in a throw of wild hunger. He bared his fangs as his hand gripped your wrist.

He growled at you, his face a mixture of emotions. “Darling— no…” he said in an agonizing tone. “I can’t…”

“Drink,” you murmured, feeling the slight sting from the cut, “Please. What beats inside of me— beats for you.”

His lips were to your skin the next moment. You felt the familiar prick of his teeth and the instant cooling sensation made you sigh. He drank deeply, making soft noises as the two of you knelt on the floor wrapped up in each other. You stroked his hair gently as he fed, feeling the slight euphoria from his mouth.

“You could never hurt me,” you whispered.

Astarion continued to drink, to the point where your vision was seeing stars. You had no fear. You believed he would stop when he needed to. You trusted him with your life. With all of your heart. You lay your head on his shoulder as the world enveloped into darkness.

[mychlapci]

(resent, forgot a line, pls delet the previous?) Archaeologist Orion Pax joins the team excavating the tomb of Megatron the Tyrant. He goes off on his own and falls into a hidden vault, which holds an ancient console. Excited, he's determined to keep this find to himself. Definitely because he's young upstart in the academic world and doesn't want his supervisor taking the credit, and not because of that little voice in the back of his head pushing him into self isolation.

He tries to turn it on at first, but with the cores depleted, he crawls out of the vault and covers it up with some rubble, hiding the entrance from everyone else, and returns to base camp. The next day, he retrieves some tools and fuel, and climbs back into the bowels of the structure to work on the console. First, he changes the seals on the fuel cores, and load them up with energon. The circuits pulse a little, but the displays and emitters remain dead. Its truly worn through amd through. He realises that he would have to restore the machine piece by piece.

He climbs out again, and returns the next day. Tearing open the main housing, then getting to work on resoldering and replacing components and circuit boards. Day in, day out, this is what he busies himself with. The team leaves him to his own devices, as they're distracted by the deciphering of the stencilling along the walls of the main chamber alone. Eventually, OP moves his sleeping roll and a share of provisions into the vault, so that he can sleep there and get right back to work upon waking up. It's a lot warmer in there than to sleep out on the wastes of southern Tarn, it seems. Quieter too; no more pesky snoring from his peers.

His first breakthrough comes when the first console finally activates. At first, he's apprehensive about plugging into a billions of years old machine, which may contain dubious malware or worse, may not be compatible with his modern processor firmware. But seeing the fuselage suddenly start to spark and smoke makes him jump into action, amd immediately choose to interface with it anyways. That data is too precious to lose. And he… trips out. He sees everything and nothing at once. He's getting glimpses at a breakneck pace, blasted with pieces of the puzzle without the full picture. And just as quickly as it came, it was gone. All that was left was his internal recall of the connection. He's panting from the rush as he unplugged from the console, hurriedly retrieving an external storage drive to burn the memory onto, as well as fervently jotting down the event in his journal.

He's hooked now. There are a few more consoles in the vault. If he could fix all of them at once before interfacing with their systems, then maybe, maybe instead of just getting fragments and shards of the ancient information entombed within them, he could absorb all of it at once. So he climbs back to base camp for more rations, ignoring the slightly concerned looks of the expedition team.

Joors bled into orns, and before he knows he, he would've spent nearly a decaorn down there in complete isolation. Accompanied with nothing but the gradually rising hum of fixed machinery put on standby. Sometimes he even starts hearing words, but he chalks it up to exhaustion. And the heat.

As each console is fixed, they start giving off more and more heat. Orion has found himself jolting awake in the night cycle, covered in condensation from the sticky warmth, having to pleasure himself to climax so that he could fall back asleep numerous times. Then it starts happening when he's awake too, needing to pause his work when the itch becomes unbearable. Eventually, its gets so intense as he nears the end, he just winds up fucking himself in the pussy with whatever tool he was tinkering with in that instant, then returning to his repair work trance with a wrench or solder that is still wet with his juices. Heck, sometimes cumming all over the motherboards even seem to be a boon, and that's how he jumpstarts the final unit.

Many orns of feverish restoration, and now the fruits of his labour beckon him. He could taste all of the forgotten knowledge lying in wait, separating just shy of a few centimeters between the connector ports and his jacks. He writes one last entry journal before he tests his hypothesis. Then he dives in.

His hypothesis is almost immediately proven true, and at the same time, it is not. He sees everything now, but instead of a proper archive to be perused by a librarian, each chapter in the tyrant's life was shown to him in a strange and specific order, and again, in an intense rush. Each memory- that's the only explanation as to what they were based on the perspectives he saw- was tearing through his processor in a rush. Some parts oddly obscured or distorted, but he attributed those to hardware corruption and infocreep. It contradicted what he knew of Megatron, but not too much, you see. Just enough to shift his opinion a little.

He might've been plugged in for quartexes for all he knew, but he definitely lost track of time as visage after visage flooded his mind. Letting himself be pulled into the helm of a mech he'd only ever known through historical accounts. Losing himself in the wonderful deluge of forbidden knowlege, never once even noticing the oily presence sliding into the back of his head, making its home within him.

When the expedition party packs up and leaves the tomb, some of them note that the air within the structures felt a little colder than when they first arrived, though none could explain why. Orion and his fellow researchers then return to civilisation, but with an additional passenger in tow.

Soon, Megatron would rise again to reclaim the lands that are rightfully his. But first, he would need to be reborn into the world. Orion WILL find himself a very pregnant mech soon enough-🔌

HGRhgzh oh god... he’s downloaded Megatron straight into his pussy... Orion comes back from the expedition pregnant and no one wants to know how exactly that could’ve happened with him constantly huddled down in the dig site, all alone. how odd.

[agirlwithglam]

https://www.tumblr.com/agirlwithglam/760858969670582272/no-guys-you-dont-understand-i-love-myself

How does one get here😭

this was asked a long time ago but i think i finally found the words to write it. (i don't im just bored, sorry!)

so how does one fully love themselves?

getting to that point of my life took time. it took a lot of time. like around 1-2 years of time, and im still not 100% there- i still get hurt sometimes, i'm still emotional and sensitive. but the thing is, that over these 1-2 years i've learnt so much that whenever i'm feeling sad or hurt, i'm able to support myself. i am the first person who shows up for me and does my very best to console and help me. i help myself turn that pain into something even better. i walk myself through what happened and whether i may be overreacting or not. i am the one who is now always always always there for myself.

and i think once i realised this, i genuinely was like "woah." no matter what happens in my life, i will ALWAYS have myself and that thought just soothes me. it relaxes and calms me down. i am no longer scared because there is no reason to be. i know that i cannot control other people, other people will always do what they want to do. they can hurt you, make you happy, hurt you again, even unintentionally. i cannot control their actions, but i can control myself. i can control how i choose to view it and react to it. so every time i get hurt i walk myself through the steps of seeing it a different way.

another thing i did when i was insecure & trying to love myself is that i did affirmations religiously. in the morning doing skincare, i would always repeat affirmations or listen to affirmations. it would be phrases like "i love myself." / "i am beautiful", etc. it's not the sole thing that transformed my love for myself, but it did help a ton with me believing it. (doing affirmations enough time can also help rewire your brain into believing what you keep repeating)

also, you need to realise that you do love yourself. a human's natural state of being is love. return to that state of being. a little baby or a child, they are full of love. they give love, they receive love, they are never ending of love. and they are the purest form of a person for they are themselves before society has told them who to be. so do you realise that you deserve love fully and beyond what you could imagine? and the one person in the whole world that can give you that unlimited love, is yourself. but you must choose to love yourself.

stop constantly returning to the state of insecurity okay? thats not you!! you are not insecure, you just think you are insecure! but in reality, there is NOTHING to be insecure about. someone else could have the exact same quality as you and love it so much! so end this cycle of negativity. choose to live a different, happier, more positive life. its all up to you. u can CHOOSE to be different!

finally, to end with, honey it will take time. just because you don't find yourself loving what you see in the mirror after 1 day, doesn't mean you never will. you don't have to keep changing yourself to love yourself. if your daughter looked like you, would you hate her? would you cringe when you look at her? of course not. treat yourself as your daughter. be gentle with yourself. be there for yourself. show up for yourself. it may take time, but please, don't give up on yourself.

[translilithlesbian]

an actual post from them:

ID:

Anonymous asked: Why don't you like cripplepunk?? /genq

OP: hooooo ok so im going to assume you dont follow us because we have spoken about this at least twenty times by now (mostly me because i used to call myself crippunk and then stopped after seeing that it was an even more toxic environment than the aro community is, which is an incredible feat, but that is a rant for another time)

heres a quick summary

cripplepunk, just like most other subgenres of punk, is a circlejerk-"fuck yall, im better"-brand of punk that 'physically disabled' gatekeepers latch onto, because i guess they have nothing better to be doing other than wasting everyones time. the concept was created with the idea that 'physically disabled people need their own resources' which, while a nice thought on the surface, comes at the expense of literally anyone they dont deem

'disabled enough' and they advocate for the separation of 'physical' and 'mental' disabilities. couple that with the fact that disability is not an easily defined state and it's easy to see why this doesn't work.

this isnt some flaw or mistake. crippunk was coined this way by design, and its creator admitted to that. its an inherently flawed way of thinking and only leads to more infighting. it was never meant to peacefully coexist with mentally or neurologically disabled people, it doesnt take into consideration someone who is disabled by their mental illness, and it inherently believes that if you arent in some physical external form of disability, you are not disabled enough or in this specific way. and despite what crippunks would like for you to believe, they do not advocate for you, do not care, and will only tell you to "make your own spaces" as if you dont belong in the conversation surrounding disability rights.

we do not believe there is any feasible nor functional difference in what disables you aside from what kinds of accommodations and treatment you need. we are all freaks under the eyes of capitalism. the brain is a part of the body, and if your brain is disabled, you are disabled. for that reason, we strongly oppose the concept of cripplepunk. we believe they will not get rights by whining about how theyre More Oppressed than people with mental/neurological disabilities.

if youd like more on why someone might dislike crippunk or not feel included by it, theres a few movements in the wake of it, such as our personal favorite unitypunk. and if you want better explanations from us: heres the unitypunk tag on our blog, scroll through it.

and INB4 they find this post and throw a temper tantrum like they do with everything else: yes, we are crippled. a quick scroll of this blog should tell you as much. Imao. lol, even.

red

——

Yes, I am thoroughly disturbed. Now, like op, I am not sharing their name so they don’t get harassed but if you would like the @ of this account to block, dm me and do not spread it around.

This person is not punk if they are shitting on punk subcultures, which have existed since punk was made, and using aro ppl as a talking point of what not to be. Not to mention the creator (who is dead btw) did not have any guidelines on what counts as disabled as long as you are physically disabled in some way, and actually allows for intersectionality, like most punk subcultures (and even punk as a whole) does.

Ok. So. For the first time I have encountered someone who has put “cripplepunk” (quotes included!!) in their bio. And I’m sitting here like.

You are mad… that I want rights? Like… cripplepunk is literally just applying the punk mindset / social conventions to disability activism.

You do not like.. disability activism?

You don’t want cripples to talk to you???

HELLO??

[folkwhoreberry]

All’s Fair In Love And War

luke castellan x apollo!reader

or... the one where you cut to the feeling

word count : 494

warning : mention of cuts, blood, and one sexual joke, english is not my first language!!!

🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙

🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽 🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽🗡️🪽

“you know, you don’t have to make a habit out of getting injured just to come see me,” you say, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips as you dab antiseptic on the cut above luke’s eyebrow.

he winces, but grins right back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got this scar for a noble cause.”

“uh-huh,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “and what ‘noble’ cause was that? tripping over your own sword during capture the flag?”

he shoots you a mock glare. “hey, someone had to lead the charge. besides, the sword thing was… strategic. a distraction, you know?”

“right, of course. because nothing throws off the enemy like watching you faceplant into the dirt.” you gently press a bandage onto his cut, careful not to hurt him more.

luke chuckles, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “well, it worked, didn’t it? they didn’t see you sneaking up on them.”

“only because they spent half the game cringing over your ‘strategy,’” you say, shaking your head. “seriously, you’re going to get yourself killed one day.”

he reaches up, his hand warm as it covers yours. “not with you patching me up every time.”

“keep acting like this and I’ll leave you to bleed.” you threatened him, pinching his cheek as you move on to treat his next bruise, a deep cut on his arm that you previously bandaged tightly to stop the bleeding. you slowly and carefully removed the bandage from around his arm, frowning as you saw how bad it was.

“what’s that from?” you asked, setting the dirty bandage aside, picking up a cotton ball which you dipped in antiseptic and starting to clean up the dried blood from a round the cut, your other hand holding his arm tightly so that he won’t wiggle around too much. “auch! eh, the sword from when I fell down, I think…” he said, wincing as the alcohol dabbed a bit too close to his wound.

“dumbass…” you mumbled under you breath, wiping all the dried blood and gravel that made its way into his cut. “told ya I could distract them instead, at least I could’ve done it without getting too hurt.” you said, setting the dirty cotton aside, walking over to one of the drawers to retrieve a large bandaid. walking back over to luke, you opened the package, sticking the bandage to his wound after smearing some cream on it, rubbing the edges and around the cut with your thumbs to stick the bandaid to his skin properly.

“all done now, anything else I could help you with, mr. castellan?” you asked teasingly, standing between his legs as you looked him in the eyes and put your hands on his thighs, just above his knees. “yeah, you could help me with a problem…” he said with a smirk, holding your hand in his and moving it slowly to the zip of his pants.

“oh grow up, luke!”

————————————————————————————

a/n : not really what I wanted but I didn’t want to give luke copd or unstable angina so had to do trauma yay

[ainnur]

we know you like celestialchaos (Wukong/Xiangliu) and divorced shadowpeach (where Macaque is the pathetic ex) but do you have any other LMK ships?

with or without Wukong, doesn’t matter

I DO!! Im a semi multishipper so I have few ships I like and some of them a pretty rare but I'll explain why I like them in simple way.

Start with my third favorite:

StableBoy (Ao Lie/Wukong)

To me this ship just a cute one. It match my hc that Ao Lie being the first person Wukong ever open up to after all the shit he been through because Wukong loves horses lol. And Ao lie is one of the persons that see Wukong grow to be better. I can see it as first ever heathy relationship Wukong ever have. Also Ao Lie the first person he ever truly trusted always listening to what he says. Ao Lie is Wukong's light.

OTHER SHIPS 👇🏼👇🏼

GoldenDragon (Mk/Mei)

Best friend to lover trope. They is two people that would say "If we single when we 27, we just marry each other" and the keep their dynamic. Plus they always be their for each other and match each other energy. They know each other the best and I like that about them. And when I first watched lmk I actually think they were dating or something lol. Im just like the silver and gold brother demon 🥲 sue me. If anything GoldenDragon is not parelle with Shadowpeach but StableBoy.

FreeNoddle (Tang/Pigsy)

Old married couple for the win✨ I just like how they lovingly fight with each other but comfort each other when needed.

LionPeach (Azure/Wukong)

This really giving love at first sight 😭I mean what is this. Look I like them because they cute. Azure admire Wukong and see him as great warrior, a bother, the King! Little bit too much its unhealthy. And Wukong have all his trust and having same gold as him and that is making the world a better place. But because his admiration, he blame Wukong for failing. For not achieving what he expect of Wukong to be. He also think what he doing is right. But even everything he never wanted to hurt anyone deep down and he made mistakes and redeemed himself with his life despite everything he loved his friends and they all loved him. Just look at Wukong when Azure die. And after everyting Wukong still care about him in a way.

Shadowpuppet (Not Mayor/Macaque)

Petty rival that somehow get together lol. I like them both being shitty to each other but cant leave each other side because they only have each other 🥲.

DestinyBone (Mayor/Lady Bone Demon)

One side love. Mayor do everything for LBD while her only focus on her destiny. Everything he do is for her but now she gone...he is nothing.

PuppetPeach (Wukong/Mayor)

Toxic yuri- okay look I have this idea for them with Mayor try to find someone else to serve after LBD is gone. At first Mayor dont like Wukong because you know, Wukong is the one make him realize that LBD never actually need him. But when fighting with Wukong he remember something. The warm that Wukong left him. It also cold when come to lbd and that how he like it but this warm feel strange to him. After some stalking he see Wukong as the leader, as the protector, as the hero and most importantly as a KING. Someone who deserve to be serve. I made a fanfic once about them HERE

StringDoll (Spider Queen/Lady Bone Demon)

✨Toxic Yuri for real ✨No explainition just them

IronBull (PIF/DBK)

Vilain power couple ✨. They may be a shit parents to Red Son but damn they're THAT couple. They just good with each other. I like how dbk defend PIF by saying that PIF can handle herself because she is a strong women but still worry about her because THAT his wife, he have right to be worry. And PIF? She loyal for him. 500 years finding way to free her husband from mountain. *Ehem* Take note Macaque *Ehem*. PIF would rush to her husband always. Just like when Azure attack DBK and his family, PIF quickly rush and jump infront of her husband wanting to protect him. I was like damn, you go girl ✨They either be good parents or good couple. They made their decision lol.

GoldenFeather (Peng/Wukong)

Okay I like this ship because my friend @starrclown make me ship theme with their cute fanfic. But I still have my own idea for them. I like them in 2 way

1)Peng having a casual crush on Wukong. Its never anything big. Peng just think Wukong is funny and chaotic. Peng love 'chaos' anyway and without it they think it be boring. Peng know that Wukong never actually like anyone and is fine by that. If Wukong like them back it be awasome but if Wukong dont Peng will be just find.

2) Peng have crush on Macaque😬. Hate crush but still crush. The thing is that Mac is a simp for Wukong and Peng just don't get it. He just don't get what so good about Wukong that got Macaque drolling like that. Peng being curious and also don't want seem as coward like Macaque ask Wukong for a "night" just to have the taste. Now he understand Macaque and wanting Wukong

Also Peng might be more important to Wukong consider he is one of first ink from Wukong scroll that show up and the first one to attack

This is OC x Canon:

ToxicPeach (Steve/Wukong)

Okay this is crack ship that me and my friend @halfdeadhalfpaniced made with random character we call Steve. But more time pass I kinda like the ship. Steve the wanna rockstar fall in love with the Monkey King himself. Wukong is questioning why he like that loser lol

[smile-files]

i wonder how horrible randall felt, for having felt this senseless hatred for henry. for wanting to put him in his place. for wanting to punish him. i wonder if he felt like his father, and hated himself for it, disgusted with the fact that he'd been tricked by anger into seeing henry as deserving nothing, tricked into becoming the man who once made him feel like nothing. and henry had saved randall from his father, once. a father who saw randall as worthless, while henry saw randall as worth everything: randall saw something human, something thinking and feeling and loving and living in henry, a person taught to see himself as nothing. unlike everyone else, henry believed in randall's dreams, for they were his own, for he was nothing without his brother, for his brother was the one who made him human. i wonder if randall ever knew henry's love for him was as much desperate obsession as it was brotherly affection... for even if randall loved him like a brother, henry always knew he was still a servant: the stray dog loyal to its master, for it knows anyone else would've kicked it. the castor to randall's pollux, one twin mortal and the other godly; and so one twin worships the other. henry saw randall's love not as a kindness, but as a gift he didn't deserve, a favor to be repaid again. and again. and again. and again. he would make himself worth being randall's brother, even if it might kill him: maybe because it might kill him. perhaps randall never realized how his gift would be received... and so henry became randall's father. and so randall became randall's father. and so they both saw this grand success in henry's hands as something that didn't belong to him, something he didn't deserve, something he'd stolen. randall's hatred was pure hatred, but henry surely saw the "truth" within: that randall regretted ever loving him, that randall no longer saw him as a brother, that he failed to fulfil the purpose bestowed upon him in his genesis as human. and that is what he will always see in randall's anger, his own deservedness of punishment. i wonder if, in retrospect, randall thought about how henry reacted after he was revealed as masked gentleman, how henry reacted to the horrible accusations he'd made... would randall not long for henry to be angry at him? is not anger the expression of feeling worthy of justice, after all? i wonder in what way randall will love him after this. part of why he loves henry so much is how much henry loves him, in a way so unconditional and patient and constant... but henry would not love randall so fervently if he were not a servant so hungry for the love randall gave him. henry is addicted to randall's affirmation of his own humanity: perhaps he's willing to continue dehumanizing himself not only just to serve randall, but also just to be in a position where randall can rehumanize him once more. though randall cannot help loving henry, even if that very love means henry will continue killing himself for him... just like henry, randall has always needed a brother...