#you cowards should have given him a tail

[dinkle-adventure]

ah-ahhhh-aaah-ahhahhahh

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Owned By The Demon Admiral (AFAB Reader Version)

Male Demon Yandere x AFAB Demon Reader CW: Noncon/dubcon, terms like pussy used for reader's genitals, yandere DILF, general yandere behavior, groping, biting, captive reader, reader is setup, an overly cute semi-aquatic demon cat named Mr. Sir Buttons Word Count: 2k (I am saying this fic is AFAB versus female because no gendered pronouns are ever used at all for the reader in anyway, rather their genitals are biologically female. Terms like pussy/cunt are used so if that is triggering for you please avoid this fic. This was a birthday gift for a friend normally I don't do AFAB reader so this may be a bit sloppy. I hope you enjoy it.)

The battleship you were on drifted through the calm blood red waters of one of Hell’s oceans. The light of the two suns scintillated beautifully off the serene waves. No evidence at all that your ship had just sunk an enemy vessel, condemning the unlucky demons manning it to death.

In the ensuing ebullience at having survived with no damage the leader of the ship, Admiral Oraan, put one hand behind on your ass and one behind your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss as his tail began to wrap around your leg.

You struggled to push off the larger demon but finally he released you. You steadied yourself and gasped for breath.

“I said no!”

Then you stormed off to your quarters.

This wasn’t the first time your commanding officer had done something like this. This was at least the fourth time you had rebuffed his advances. He just wouldn’t get it through his thick skull. You were focused strictly on your military career. The war against Pride, one of the Princes of Hell, was far too important for romance and sex to get in the way.

But you underestimated his desire for you. And his rage. You should have assumed that the highest ranking admiral in Wrath’s fleet would have some severe anger issues. But you naively thought that service to his prince would take priority over his feelings for you.

The first thing he had done was to sabotage your quarters during inspection. You didn’t know it was his doing and were angered and paranoid that someone would thrash your space in such a way, causing you to get written up.

In reality it was all Oraan. A rising action in the story of your downfall.

The next thing that was done to ruin your uniforms. He told you it was disrespectful to the prince you all served, to the branch you served, and to him to have your uniforms in such a state.

After that it was a more serious infraction. Reported for contraband that was then found in your locker.

The final, and most infuriating, nail in the coffin happened in the next skirmish. A small opponent, easy to sink and posing only a slight threat to the hellish dreadnought on which you served. But Oraan had forced multiple witnesses to claim you were a coward. That you had abandoned your station and hid in your quarters while the rest of the crew gallantly manned their posts.

This led to you having to be court-martialed. No time to dock and have more formal proceedings. You had to be court-martialed right on the ship. Despite the evidence against you, you thought that once you were given your chance to make your arguments and have your comrades vouch for your behavior and character then this would all disappear.

That isn’t quite how things played out for you. You started the court-martial optimistic but with each passing moment a sense of dread became stronger and stronger. Each witness, people you had respected and thought of as your friends, gave damning testimony. They painted you as a belligerent, lazy, neglectful oaf. Someone who cared nothing for duty, rules, or honor.

You had to hold back tears as your body shook with rage and sorrow. Why were they saying such things? Why were they lying about you and your actions and character?

It finally became obvious when the sentence was passed. Not death, as might befit someone who fled from combat. Not dishonorable discharge. No, you were being reassigned. As Oraan’s personal attendant. “A non-combat role where no one would be harmed by your cowardly behavior.”

It was all him. He had pressured or otherwise bribed everyone to turn against you. To lie about you. All to get you in his clutches and punish you for rejecting him. And there was nothing you could do about it. He was an older and stronger demon, you’d have no hope to beat him in a fight. And even if you somehow managed it, how would you escape on a ship? And if by some miracle you either made it to land or just waited until the ship was docked you would be chased for all eternity.

No, he had you in your clutches. Your only hope was that your contract with the navy was almost up. You were only to be enlisted for five years at a time before you had to renew. The only exception for that being prolonged was if a hot war was going on, but this one was nearing its end. Since all that happened was the court-martial was just technically a reassignment you were only bound by the terms of your enlistment.

All you had to do was endure for ten months.

It was humiliating. Oraan really wanted to keep you reminded of your new position. You had to be at his side constantly. Obeying all his orders and whims. You had to press his uniforms and get his meals. And in private the tasks got much worse.

Sucking his girthy cock was a common “request” of his. Almost daily. You also had to bathe with him most nights. This required you to wash his entire well-muscled form. If you were a willing participant you would have enjoyed it, he was very attractive, the tattoo of an anchor on his left shoulder and the three large scars on his ribs adding to his rugged allure.

But you weren’t a willing participant. And bathing him usually led to him giving you an “inspection.” That was where he touched, kissed, groped every inch of you before sliding his cock into your hot pussy, slowly fucking into you until he came hard. His tongue, of course, had to probe your mouth during these inspections, “just to be thorough.”

It was good that he had you eat meals with him in his private quarters, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look any of the other crew members in the eye ever again. The ones that hadn’t been involved in fucking over your entire life were the ones that believed the lies about you. On the entire ship you had not a single ally. The only one you could confide in was Mr. Sir Buttons, the semi-aquatic demonic cat that served as the mascot and unofficial morale officer on the ship.

You were on your way back from taking your food trays back to the galley when you felt something soft rub against your leg. Mr. Sir Buttons! You had a few minutes before you had to be back with Oraan so you stooped down and picked him up. He purred loudly.

“At least I never have to worry about you betraying me.”

He meowed as if in affirmation. You nuzzled his thick, red, waterproof fur before placing him back down to go about his very important demonic cat business.

When you got back to Oraan’s quarters he was naked on the bed. His large prick standing erect and ready for the attention you would surely have to give it, a bead of precum running down the length evidently in anticipation.

You sighed in resignation and began to strip your clothing. You had been doing this for over a month now. Only less than nine more to go. You could do it, just one moment at a time.

Too excited after leering at your naked form, he couldn’t wait for you to come to him anymore. Instead he got up and used his strong arms to pick you up and pin you to the bed. He stole your lips with his, kissing you in a greedy frenzy, his large cock swung below as he groped your chest.

“Mine! I can’t believe after all these years you’re finally all mine!”

He bit your neck, causing you to moan involuntarily. But maybe you should just give into the pleasure of the situation. It was going to happen either way and you’d be able to move on with your life once this was all over anyway. Besides, getting into it a bit might just help him finish faster so you’d have less time stuck in this position.

Oraan massaged the outside of your cunt before sliding a couple of fingers into you to get you wet and ready for his large prick.

When he lined his cock up with your drooling entrance, rough hands on your hips, you didn’t look away or flinch as you would normally. You wrapped your arms and legs around him instead, allowing him the perfect angle to slam deeply into your pussy. He grinned, ecstatic that you finally seemed to have not only learned your place but were actively embracing it. He slammed down with hard but slow thrusts. Each one making you gasp and each one punctuated with another kiss or nip up your neck.

Lewd squelching noises emanated from your sex as he increased the tempo of your lovemaking.

Had any of the crew passed the admiral’s quarters on their way through the halls all they would have heard was the rhythmic slap of Oraan’s nuts against your skin as he bred you along with the occasional grunt or swear from him or moan from you.

“Fuck! I love you so much!”

You only drooled a bit while looking up at him dumbly with lustful eyes, having been fucked nearly senseless. You scratched his shoulders with your sharp demonic nails as you pulled him closer to you in an attempt to somehow get him deeper. You were near your climax, desperate for it.

The pain from your nails spurred him on, causing him to fuck you at a new pace that straddle the line between pain and pleasure. You winced as he came hard, your tight clenching walls milking his cock and sending him over the edge soon after.

He gave a few final thrusts into you to empty his balls good and deep before pulling out and holding you tight, caging you in with his sweat-slicked body. You went limp from exhaustion, practically basking in the afterglow that always followed such intense, passionate sex. If you didn’t know any better you could have mistaken Oraan for a lust demon. Though you imagined saying such a thing to his face would have him prove instantly that he was, in fact, a being of wrath.

When the two of you had recovered he took you into the small shower with him. This time around, he cleaned you. Gently washing your body of cum and sweat before rinsing your hair. Far more tender behavior than you would have thought possible from the stern leader. Maybe there was more wisdom to just being more open to your predicament than you had initially thought.

It was a change in your behavior that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the man who had orchestrated the vast shift in your life circumstances.

“Finally decided to give in, huh?” Came his gruff voice from behind you.

You had no reason to be dishonest or hide your thoughts from him.

“Well, my contract is up in just a few months. I am not going to renew so this assignment is only temporary. I figured it’ll go by faster if I just accept it.”

He laughed and pulled you close to him, you could feel his stubble on your neck as he whispered words that made your fiery demon blood run cold.

“With my power, influence, and wealth I can assure you that your signature will keep renewing that contract for eternity, sweetheart. Whether you sign it yourself or not. Even if we aren’t deployed I will find a way to keep you with me.”

You went limp and would have fallen to the floor had he not had his arms wrapped tightly around you. The room felt like it was spinning. You barely took note of the water trailing down your skin or the chaste kiss he pressed to your cheek.

It was over for you, now that Oraan finally had you there was absolutely nothing that would make the older demon give you up.

[makethiscanon]

'Beauty and the Beach' - Ojiro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Rating: T

Tags: Beach Day, Tiki Bar, First Meetings, Pining, Wingwoman Hagakure to the Rescue, Second Person POV, Ojiro's Perspective, Extroverted Reader

Warnings: Alcohol themes

'If Ojiro won't be pro-active about his love life, Hagakure will.'

------

“Don’t be such a chicken, Ojiro. Go talk to her.”

Hagakure caught Ojiro glancing across the beach at you for the umpteenth time today. He looked so much like a wistful puppy that she couldn’t hold her tongue. She knew she wouldn’t be much of a friend without trying to wipe that look of longing off his face one way or another.

But it seemed Ojiro thought he was being surreptitious. Hearing Hagakure calling him out like that made his whole body turn ridged, right up to the tip of his tail and the tops of his ears.

To his credit, he didn’t deny what he was doing.

“Don’t be crazy, Hagakure. I can’t.”

Ojiro and Hagakure often came to the beach to wind down after tough missions. It was a place they both enjoyed for different reasons. Ojiro liked the peaceful sound of the waves against the shore, and Hagakure liked the cool waters that eased her muscles after battle.

But recently, Ojiro had found another reason he enjoyed coming to the beach. The local, pop-up tiki bar had taken on some new hires and amongst them, you stood out like a diamond. Your smile had caught his attention from the get-go, stopping him midsentence the very first time he saw it. You radiated kindness and optimism, and never failed to welcome anyone who came to the bar looking for refreshments. Your positive energy had him hooked. Not to mention, you were very cute in the bar’s uniform; a bikini-top and wrap-skirt combo.

“I’m not in her league. There’s no way she’d be interested. I’ll stick to looking, thanks.”

Hagakure rolled her invisible eyes, annoyed but not surprised by Ojiro’s self-depreciating attitude.

“Coward. You won’t know until you try.”

“I do know. I don’t need to try.”

Hagakure grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at him.

“Alright. Fine. In which case, go get us some drinks. I’m thirsty.”

“No, you’re not.”

Ojiro’s tail flicked the dry sand off his bare shoulders as he chuckled. If Hagakure actually did need a drink, he would be the first guy to go and get it, but was reluctant to help when he knew she was only trying to play matchmaker.

“Am too!” She demanded, burying her feet in the warm sand. She put her hand to her forehead dramatically, feigning heat exhaustion. Given that she was covered in sand, Ojiro had no trouble seeing what she was up to. “I’ll collapse any moment. Be a dear and go get some water.”

Ojiro couldn’t stop himself chuckling, watching her flop onto her back. Against his better judgement he started getting to his feet, heaving himself up with his hands on his knees. For all the rambunctious energy Hagakure had, he couldn’t believe she had just come off night patrol and was yet to actually go to sleep.

“Maybe I should just let you pass out then drag you back to campus like a sack of potatoes.”

Hagakure shot up to a sitting position.

“Oi! I’d be as light as a feather, and you know it.”

Ojiro rolled his eyes with another chuckle.

“Sit tight, drama queen.”

He dusted himself down then headed off towards the tiki bar. The walk wasn’t nearly long enough to prepare himself. He spent the first while wondering if he should have dumped Hagakure in the ocean instead of giving in to her demands, only to realise he had spent too much time wondering and was almost at the bar. Then he became painfully aware that he had no idea how to talk to pretty women.

He tapped the pocket of his swim shorts, checking for his wallet as he came up to the bar. There was no queue to give him a moment to prepare. As soon as he was within reasonable distance, you waved hello with that heart-fluttering smile of yours, calling out,

“What can I get you?”

Ojiro stalled for a split second, caught off by the way your optimism was aimed squarely at him, then managed to recover fast enough not to come to a complete stop.

“Hi,” he said, trying his best to return your friendly expression. He had so many things he wanted to say, but as he sidled up to a barstool and saw you up close for the first time, his mouth fell open as his brain short circuited. The phrase you’re so beautiful nearly came tumbling from his mouth, but thankfully the first syllable got stuck in his throat.

You kept your eyes on him, tilting your head with a playfully happy expression while he carried on failing to give you his order.

By grace of the gods, he managed to catch himself when another customer appeared at the side window, asking you for a straw, and you turned your attention away for a moment. It was your eyes. He had not expected them to be so… oh man, he was down hard.

He sat up straight, rigid but alert, when you turned your gaze back on him.

“A water,” he said, sounding so calm it shocked him. “Please.”

You nodded, already turning to reach behind the counter for the mini fridge stocked with colourful cans and bottles.

“You got it.”

You took out a bottle of water then popped the cap and put it on the counter, keeping your fingers wrapped around it. You smiled mischievously, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“Surely that can’t be everything? No one sits on a barstool and asks for water.”

Apparently today was the day women were going to call Ojiro out on his poorly veiled intentions.

“Ah. Actually, the water’s for my friend...” He pointed over his shoulder without taking his gaze from you. Your eyes lit up like fireworks.

“That’s more like it. So what’ll you have?” You pushed the bottle towards him, leaning over the counter a little. Ojiro felt his heart begin to hammer at the sight of you leaning towards him in that bikini. He found himself striking you with very intense eye contact all of a sudden, whilst his entire tail wound down the central pole of his barstool to keep a grip on reality. He reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“I’m good, thank you—”

He cut himself off, completely unguarded against the babyish pout that hit your lips before he could finish his sentence.

“Aw, really? It’s such a nice day. You should treat yourself a little.” You leaned your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes. “Come on. I can recommend you something, if you’d like?”

Ojiro was only thankful that his sheer willpower was enough to stop him looking lower than where your chin rested on your hand.

He hadn’t intended to buy something for himself, but despite your obvious sales tactics, he was rather enjoying the interaction.

“What would you suggest?”

You stood up straight, the pout disappearing as fast as it had come. With a wide, happy grin, you grabbed a menu then opened it to face him.

“What are you feeling? Fruity, smooth, dry, or fizzy?”

You fingered over the different parts of the menu, with Ojiro enjoying the way you tucked your hair behind your ear as you focused on what you were showing him.

“Um. Smooth, I think. Something refreshing.”

You nodded and drew back, grabbing a glass from overhead.

“Any allergies?”

It was hard to believe you’d only been working at the bar for a few weeks, given how confident you were. As casually as breathing, you grabbed two bottles with long spouts in one hand then started pouring them into a shaker.

Ojiro smiled, watching you.

“No, nothing.”

With a nod, you pursed your lips then flittered around the small bar, filling the hurricane glass with ice, and the shaker with colourful liquids and sizeable measures of liquor.

“Do you want me to hold off on the decorations? Or do you want a big, bendy straw and a little umbrella?”

Ojiro chuckled, surprised you would offer him a choice.

“You can put the decorations on.”

You grinned wider, your eyes sparkling.

“Good. I thought I liked you. The best kind of guy is one who doesn’t mind a little silliness.”

Your words sent a ripple of warmth through his whole body, and it was only his tail still wrapped around the barstool pole that stopped it wagging hard enough to become a dangerous weapon.

You started filling the glass with fruit and decorations, then without warning, you leaned across the counter and slipped a blue paper umbrella into his hair. Your fingers traced the shell of his ear as you pulled back and he shivered, enjoying the goosebumps. His stool creaked as his tail tightened around it like a vice. If he looked silly, he didn’t even care.

“Are you like this with all your customers?”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing. Internally, he winced. But you chuckled as you lifted the shaker into the air, eyeing what you could see of him up and down.

“What do you think?”

At least you took it well. Ojiro mulled over the question as you shook his drink, coming to the conclusion that he would be delusional to think anything other than you were just very good at your job. You had him feeling very special after only a few sentences and a little flirty body language.

You poured the cocktail then set it down on the counter and added the last of the garnish.

“One Tequila Sunrise.” You quirked an eyebrow with a smile. “ID please.”

Ojiro looked at you, wondering if you were being serious. He chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his ID, regardless.

“Aren’t you meant to card someone before you make the drink?”

“Maybe I get to drink the ones I have to refuse.”

Ojiro laughed at the cheeky answer then slid his ID across the counter.

“Drinks are on me.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got carded.”

He said, noticing the way you looked back and forth between the ID and him once you picked it up, your smile growing with each passing moment. By the time you handed it back, you looked both pleased and giddy. He had to wonder why until you popped the cash register then closed it again.

“Look, I don’t get to serve the Number 26 Pro Hero, Tailman, every day. Seriously. It's free. Thanks for working so hard all the time.”

“Wha—”

You cut him off.

Ojiro’s tail nearly ripped his barstool out from under him.

“Wait- no- I don’t mind. Please.”

Ojiro pulled his debit card out, his cheeks flushing pink from the fact you recognised him. He had given you his civilian ID; it didn't mention anywhere that he was a hero. The only information was a photo and his name. Which meant you knew that Tailman's real name was Mashirao Ojiro. And very few people cared enough to know that.

He jerked in his seat, his tail very nearly tipping him off the barstool in its attempt to wag.

You raised your hands, palms open to refuse his card.

“Absolutely not. This one’s on me.”

He wanted to push it, but didn’t want to refuse your kind gesture. He relented, taking back his ID and tucking it, along with his wallet, back into his shorts.

“Thank you.”

Every fibre of his being wanted to ask you questions; Had you known he was Tailman the whole time? Did you follow his work? Maybe one of your friends did, and you knew of him through them? He desperately wanted to believe it was you. Or maybe you were like Number One Pro Hero: Deku, and followed the billboards in general. That was more likely it, but he just couldn’t shake the pleased feeling from his chest that you knew his real name.

Ojiro was very careful when he pried his tail off his chair, focusing hard on extracting it without taking down the tiki bar in the process. He grabbed his drinks, feeling the paper umbrella fluttering in his hair as he turned into the gentle breeze.

If he was a more confident man, he’d flirt and say it wasn’t fair that you knew his name and he didn’t know yours. He’d ask for your number. He’d joke that he’d be back if your cocktail recommendation was bad, or maybe he’d be back to tell you what he thought of it, to compliment you.

If he was a more confident man.

But instead, he gave you a curt nod goodbye, taking one last look at your radiant smile before turning away. He nearly walked straight into two guys headed to the bar. He heard your honey-sweet voice, calling to them,

“What can I get you guys?”

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you’d pull them into a few minutes of bliss, like you had with him. He wondered if they’d appreciate it like he did.

The first thing Hagakure spotted was Ojiro’s goofy grin as he wandered back over to where she was sunbathing. She sat up, spotting the cocktail and the umbrella in his hair.

“Did you have fun, by any chance?”

Ojiro laughed, knowing what she was probably looking at.

“You could say that.”

He handed her the water then used his tail to lower himself to the floor without spilling his drink.

As he landed in the sand, he finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Hagakure’s water, then his cocktail.

“Oh. Damn. I should have got you a proper drink. Do you want mine?”

Hagakure started laughing.

“Put you in front of a pretty girl and you turn to goo. Forget the drinks, did you get her number?”

Ojiro’s entire face turned scarlet now that he didn’t have to worry about holding his composure.

“Are you crazy? Of course not.”

“What do you mean, of course not? You have an umbrella in your hair! Unless you’re woefully bad at flirting and put the damn thing in yourself, that was an open invitation.”

Ojiro supped his drink bashfully, though his tail wagged a little more as the flavour hit him.

“I lied,” said Hagakure. “I want a proper drink. Go back. Go. Back. You’re not fighting me on this. Go back over there, you hopeless bag of muscle.”

Despite his embarrassment, Ojiro couldn’t help laughing as Hagakure scrambled up then tried hauling him up by his tail.

“I can’t. I’m scared I’ll put her out of pocket again.”

Hagakure stopped dead.

“Did she… did you get a free drink?”

Ojiro knew he was digging his own grave by offering up the information, but he was still enjoying the fact that you knew him.

“Yes. She paid for it as thanks. For… all my Pro Hero work.”

Ojiro heard the slap as Hagakure put her hands to her face in shame.

“You didn’t boast about being a hero to get a free drink, did you? God, I knew you were bad with women but—”

Slipping straight past those blows to his ego, Ojiro raised his hands in defence.

“I didn’t! She recognised me. I didn’t say a thing about being a hero. I’m off duty. I wouldn’t.”

Ojiro yelped as Hagakure grabbed his tail again, doubling down on trying to pull him up.

“Get your butt back over there and ask her out immediately.” She demanded. But then she suddenly let go. “No. You know what? Stay there.”

As Hagakure started marching off across the beach, Ojiro went against his better judgement and stayed put. Hagakure seemed pretty adamant. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop her without force, he chose to look out at the ocean and enjoy his cocktail, taking little sips as he tried not to think of what Hagakure could be doing, saying, or scheming.

He leaned back on one arm, letting the sun bask against his bare chest. He lifted his face, his eyes shutting as the day’s warmth settled over him, and focused on the sounds of the waves. With his eyes closed, he pictured your face again; that smile as you realised who he was. He didn’t think he would ever forget it.

He twitched a little in alarm, hearing Hagakure’s sudden and not so subtle squeal of excitement on the winds. He wondered what that was about, refusing to let his hopes get too high. For all he knew, she might have just seen something especially fluffy. He kept his eyes closed, focusing all his attention on the taste of his cocktail.

It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar patter of feet through the sands towards him. He opened his eyes and looked Hagakure’s way, only to nearly drop his drink. It wasn’t Hagakure. It was you.

Ojiro shot up in greeting, trying not to let his alarm slip onto his face as he staggered and smiled your way. He wasn’t prepared last time, and he definitely wasn’t prepared this time.

“Is everything okay?”

Even with you walking towards him with your arms out wide like a child keeping her balance and that smile on your face, he couldn’t believe you were here to see him in anything other than an emergency capacity.

You laughed as you came to stand in front of him, your hands clasped behind your back.

“Your friend said she’d man the bar for five. She’s really nice.”

Instinctively, Ojiro looked past your shoulder to double check that the tiki bar wasn’t already on fire, then looked back at you.

“Hagakure didn’t force you to come over, did she?”

You shook your head.

“Not at all. She told me a few things, but coming over was my idea.”

Ojiro flinched, wondering what Hagakure could have possibly said, but he was far more interested to know you were in front of him of your own doing.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, then slipped your hand into the cup of your bikini top. Ojiro stiffened and looked skyward, his heart melting when you giggled again. “Don’t worry, I’m not flashing you.”

He didn’t think you were, but it was too much like temptation for him when your hand was so close to an area he knew would be rude to stare at.

While he kept looking at the clouds in the sky, you said,

“I thought it was you when I saw you coming towards the bar. It’s hard to miss your tree-trunk thick tail. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if I was wrong, though. But I let myself get hopeful anyway. To answer your question earlier, no, I’m not like that with every customer. That flirting was just for you.”

Ojiro’s gaze shot back down to you, his eyes widening.

“It was?”

He was so surprised by the revelation that he didn’t notice what you were holding out towards him for a moment. But then he spotted the slip of paper, folded neatly in half. He took it in one hand and flipped it open with his thumb. Then his tail started wagging again.

“You’re giving me your number?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded.

“Hagakure said you’re bad with women. I don’t mind. It’s pretty sweet, actually. I was just happy to talk to you. But she said you have a bit of thing for me, so…”

Ojiro laughed despite himself, realising Hagakure probably hadn’t spared any details of his pining from you.

“Yeah, I do actually. Even if I wussed out on telling you.” He sighed, looking into your pretty eyes now that he felt he could. “But with the cat out of the bag… can I ask what time you get off work? I’d love to take you to dinner.”

Thankfully you didn’t pause before giving him an answer.

“I finish at six.” Ojiro felt humbled, seeing the slightest hint of nerves touching your face. “So I’ll… definitely see you then?”

You had nothing to be anxious about. You were stunning, and charming, yet for some reason you looked like you were worried about him saying no to you. He held your note to his chest, his smile widening effortlessly as he took in every detail of you, the sun shining down on you, making his heart warm.

“It’s a date.”

------

[WRITING MASTERLIST]

[katy-l1988]

Head canon/Theory Part 10:

The rise of the Vee's

We all know that Vee's are, in short, cowards and hypocrites, who, as you would expect from a demon...do things by trickery.

They aren't the type to get their hands dirty and risk their necks. They wanted war so that those Overlods with greater resources, like Carmilla and Rosie, would lose their "capital" in battle.

Why? Again, the Vee's don't have many "assets":

Vox has his technology but it doesn't work in battle.

Velvette has social media and, if, Harley Quinn-type guns.

Valentino has...porn actors? Oh yeah, and some guns.

Now, what does the song say about this? (I only put the most important fragments)

[Vox] After the battle, masterless cattle

By "cattle" he refers to the sinners of course, who in the absence of Extermination no longer fear, and know that they can defend themselves from any heavenly threat.

With proper guidance, they could do what the Vee's originally wanted, declare war on Heaven itself.

[Vox & Valentino] Overlords hanging by a thread

By Overlords here it refers to: Carmilla, Rosie and Alastor, since they are the ones who were involved in the defense of Hazbin Hotel.

Rosie gave Charlie free rein to convince her people to fight, risking their lives and therefore her power.

Carmilla armed the cannibals to the teeth, and that means a lot of weapons that won't be recovered. Furthermore, in the absence of the Extermination, Carmilla won't be able to get her greatest raw material…Celestial steel.

Alastor, needless to say, ended up seriously injured by a celestial weapon and I doubt he'll be 100% after that.

[Vox] Alastor's missing

[Vox & Valentino] Fled with his tail between his legs Nature abhors a power vacuum

That leaves room for you and me The future of Hell belongs to the Vees

Now, if they want to rise to the top, they'll have to do something similar to what Mimzy claims Alastor did. Eliminate the most powerful Overlords...

But how if Alastor defeated Vox just by talking to him?

We all have weaknesses, humans, demons, angels. And what's more interesting than the weaknesses of these Overlords, be other Overlords (pardon the redundancy). And in Carmilla's case, her daughters.

Alastor/Rosie

I feel that Alastor, despite his mysteries and how defeated he was in battle, would do anything for someone he loved. Rosie is certainly someone he would go crazy for… I mean, if he blew Sir Pentious away for a piece of cloth, what would he do to someone who hurt Rosie?

Zestial/Carmilla

We don't know anything about Zestial so far, but he is certainly a character that strikes fear into the masses. What did he do in the past? After all, he is the oldest in hell.

Now, can you imagine the chaos he would cause if they threatened Carmilla or the girls? God, he would burn everything to protect them.

Carmilla/Odette & Clara

We've already seen much of Carmilla's abilities, and while she defends herself well, her daughters make her an easy target. It is enough for them to capture her daughters, for her to hand over everything she has worked for, even…her life.

Vee's enemies

Furthermore, we already saw that each Vee's has a "counterpart", an Overlord enemy...one they consider outdated.

Now, I know that many will say that Valentino's enemy is Angel, because he wants to kill him as soon as he "betrays" him. But following the rule of three, there should be an Overlord to unhinge him.

Zestial is a strong possibility, given that just as Valentino is a "Bug Demon", so to speak. Valentino is a moth and Zestial is a spider.

Now, the biggest conflict would be regarding their vision of people:

Zestial: He is an intelligent man who knows how to control his feelings. He is kind, understanding, and concerned with his loved ones. He doesn't like impulsivity or childishness. He's a gentleman, and he wouldn't tolerate Valentino's treatment of people at all. I mean…if he did to Carmilla what he did to Charlie, or Angel, he'd be dead.

Valentino: He is impulsive, machiavellian, cruel, carefree, interested…I can go on. He is the complete opposite of Zestial.

Rosie could be an option too, being elegant, refined, and quite helpful compared to Valentino. She has good manners and would correct Valentino all the time...Plus, she's friends with his boyfriend's enemy, what more does he want to hate her?

If the Vee's want power, they will attack here…

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi! I hope you're doing well🥰

Can I be greedy? I NEED me something from the kiss prompt lust if you're willing, of just about any of them, for Autumn (Rosie) and Steve? I genuinely cannot pick, there are at least 10 kinds I'd die to read about🥲 I miss them.

(No pressure!)

eeeeee, I miss them too! I choose --a kiss after a small rejection-- because we all know I love me a bit of angst before the fluff with 🍁 Steve Rogers x super soldier!reader 🍁 [one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024]

Warnings for not much (super mild cursing) except please remember that this reader chose the name Autumn Rose Barnes after rescued from Hydra. Steve calls you 'Rosie,' zero other physical or personal descriptors. It's not an OC! Sorry to lecture, but I've gotten complaints and needed to explain this multiple times...Also, you and Steve adopted a German Shepard mix named Maple. WC 1370

Your Team, an Autumn Is Healing tale

With the fastest, most forceful, super soldier movements you can manage, you shred the single page of paper in your hands.

Those cowards delivered it while you were in your garden. They put it under your door, far back in the building, and they ran away with their tails between their legs.

“‘Not able to authorize you at this time’ MY ASS,” you screech.

“I’m sure the Council didn’t make the decision lightly.” Steve diligently picks up tiny pieces off the carpet as you toss them everywhere.

It’s all you can do not to burst straight through the walls.

“How dare they? Have I not done enough?! What more do they want??”

You aren’t an Avenger, not now, maybe not ever, and the future just looks blank when before it seemed so clear.

You can fight—you should fight,—so why not put you to work? Why not let you on the damn Team?

“They don’t trust me,” you think aloud. “All this power, and no one wants me.”

He stops at the trash and puts his hands on his hips, dejected. “That’s not—Sit down, okay? This isn’t about any of that. You are wanted and trusted here.”

“I can pull my weight, Steve. I can give back what you all have given me. I can be a team player, I promise, please. PLEASE. Tell them. Please tell them I’m ready.”

“Rosie, no one doubts you are ready or capable or any of that, and you are part of the team. More importantly, I am on your team. We all are. Only thing that happened today is some bureaucrats covered their asses—“

You and maple cock your heads in shock, but the language changes nothing.

“Then why can’t I be of use?!”

“Here,” he specifies. “In here, in the compound, of course, we trust you. You know this place. You know all of us. But sweetheart, there is so much out there.”

He changes tactics. “We don’t need—I mean, the Council doesn’t see—you were trained as a soldier, yes, but that’s not who you are. That was so you’d obey their commands. The rest of us, we’re grunts. And frankly, I’m glad you won’t be in harm’s way.”

After thinking for a few seconds, something obvious occurs to you. Steve always fights for what you want, and he’s…not now.

You rush toward him with an accusatory finger up. “You did this.”

“What? No,” Steve balks.

“You did this, didn’t you? That’s what you told them to get them to say ‘no.’ You told them I wasn’t up to it, not a real soldier. You told them I’m not cut out for the Team because you didn’t want me fighting beside you.”

“I said I wanted you safe,” he tries softly.

It’s not a wall you’re about to burst through. “You took my chance!”

“Rosie, that’s ridiculous. I never—“

His phone makes a noise like a foghorn—the call to the jets. Danger. The Team needs him.

You both look up from his hip at the same time, eyes locked between fury and compliance.

“Better go.” You scowl. “Wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

His face falls, and he stands there, listening to the alarm sound again, then again.

Without another word, Steve gives up and leaves.

You lock the door and remove his entrance privileges. It won’t keep him out, but it will slow him down and make a point when he returns.

If he wants to keep the battlefield personal, then this can be your domain. He can apply to participate. He can go through a crucible of grueling interviews and tests and then last-minute, made-up tests because they just wanted to find one reason…

And Steve handed it to them on a silver platter.

When he comes back he tries the door. You can hear the mechanical lock beep in rejection of his hand print. He tries again. He knocks, he calls out with a louder knock, and then, finally, he uses the override command, the one that they technically all have because you can’t be trusted. Not really. Not fully.

He enters the dark rooms quietly.

You’re on the bed, laying with your hands wedged between your thighs, Maple’s belly warming your feet, the window blinds all the way up, moonlight and stars visible as a small comfort.

He doesn’t know if you’re asleep or awake until you speak.

“What was the point—why put me through all this if I can’t help? Am I just a thing to breed?”

“Rosie, honey, that is not and never has been true.” Clearly cautious from your argument, Steve stays a short distance away.

“Then why did no one look for me? I was right there, strapped down for years, because that was my purpose, that’s what I was created fo—”

“So was I,” he exclaims gruffly. “I was made to do one thing, and one thing only, and I still sat in the Arctic for seventy years! It doesn’t prove shit—“ he kneels down beside the bed, holding your hands and whispering pleas into you skin “—and no one but you can define your purpose.” 

Maple whines and bows her head over the edge.

”I want you,” he continues. “I trust you. If it makes me selfish to…fine, I’m selfish. So be it. I don’t want you out there with me, I’m sorry. I don’t. See, I lost people when they got sick, when they went to war, when I went to war, when I came back, when I didn’t come back.”

He pauses, tracing small patterns over your thumb while he squeezes your hands.

“Please. Please, sweetheart. Just give me this one thing because even though you have a serum, I can’t…I can’t imagine…if anything ever…

“We are super. We are not indestructible,” he admits. “Losing you would destroy me.”

Steve looks fragile, his features shadowed by more than the night.

“You don’t need to become an Avenger. We are already on your team. We are your team. You have nothing to earn. You have nothing to fight for. We lo—I love you. I’m in awe of you because you became so much more than they tried to make you be.”

The dog howls gently in agreement.

“Me and Maple are your biggest fans, too.”

Said ‘fan’ harrumphs on cue, making Steve burst into a smile.

“There’s a whole fan club. We have a slogan—‘Go Autumn’—there’s gonna be t-shirts and scarves.” He drops your hand to spring up. “We’re your cheerleaders, right, girl? See?”

He hurdles over you to his side of the bed and starts hopping up and down with his fists in the air. Maple goes ballistic barking.

“RAH, RAH, ROSIE! RAH, RAH, ROSIE!”

Steven Grant Rogers, born the fourth of July, one-hundred plus years ago, jumps on the bed, bouncing till you reluctantly roll off and stand. 

Maple gets down with Steve, panting, and watches intently, thinking her dad has really lost the plot in a super fun way. Maybe she’ll get a treat even.

He steps in front of you, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“Wha’d’ya say, Miss, can I be on your team? Do you want me? You trust me?”

If you weren’t so close to tears, you would have answered him immediately. Instead, you hum.

He scoffs. “You Barneses are so picky.”

Steve pulls you into a hug, lifts your chin and says softly against your lips, “go, Autumn, go,” before capturing you in his zeal.

The truth of it is you know he wants you, and you know he trusts you. Knowing that Steve feared for your safety makes you more anxious to have him out there.

You hold him tighter.

He's right, of course, that risk is everywhere and nothing is promised. How could he say 'no' to peace of mind? You'll never be lost. He will never lose this one thing.

Though you will not be joining the Avengers, one of the many things you are a part of is this: a slow dance in the dark with a good man.

A slow, slow dance between his tongue and yours, that is.

After what feels like hours of him kissing you so sweetly, Maple is bored and stretching into a ready stance.

She yips indignantly.

You pull away from Steve. “I know, girl. I always want him to come home, too.”

He rests his forehead to yours. “She’s right. I should respect her mom’s independence.”

Maple squeals and flicks her head (and ears) to the side. Where’s her treat, you crazies? She put up with your tension all night, and she deserves a reward.

Ransom Drysdale and a kiss as a 'yes' ⬅️ ➡️ Lloyd Hansen and a kiss on a place of insecurity

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[wc-confessions]

Hear me out...Leopardstar x Silverstream doomed yuri

They have feelings for each other but never say anything about it even though they both kind of know about it...Silverstream still likes Graystripe but part of her hopes that by being with him she'll forget about Leopardfur...they both know they want to be together but can't find the words or get past whatever is stopping them...

When Silverstream dies Leopardfur vows to keep her kits safe at any cost, even if she despises their father. She hates Graystripe for killing Whiteclaw-the cat she loved so much he was practically her son-but part of her also hates him for getting to have Silverstream. For being able to just love her without feeling like something invisible is stopping him. For being the cat by her side as she died. Leopardfur hates him for so many reasons and even she can admit that not all of them are justified.

She hopes every night that Silverstream will come to her. She feels like she's being crushed under the weight of Crookedstar's death and her new leadership. Graystripe isn't around anymore to help protect the kits. Tigerstar is so persuasive and he makes so much sense to her.

When the day comes, she can't keep her promise. She only watches as Stonefur is ordered to slaughter the children of the cat she had loved. The children she had sworn to protect. She had one last chance, one more moment to turn back and reclaim the power she had been given when her deputy says he will only answer to her.

Leopardstar is a coward. She tells him to follow Tigerstar's command.

The starry gaze of Silverstream can only watch in horror as her kin dies protecting her kits. Can only watch in betrayal and rage and devastation as the cat she had always wanted orders the death of two innocent apprentices.

She finally appears to Leopardstar, but not how the leader gad hoped. She curses her name, spits that there will be no place for her in StarClan and she should have known she would never be half the leader Crookedstar was. Leopardstar wants to defend herself, make any claim against her words-but she can't. There's nothing she can defend. She knows she's a coward.

Leopardstar spends the rest of her life trying to atone, to make up for the damage she caused, but she never can. She makes Mistyfoot her deputy, she takes in Sasha and her kits, she tries to connect with Feathertail and Stormfur-but no matter what she does the shadow of her past haunts her. The claws of her atrocities have a vice grip on her pelt.

It comes to a head when she's pinned by the fox, and she begs Feathertail to leave her. She wants so badly to be better. To make up for what she did. Even if she dies for good right there, it will be fine as long as Silverstream's kit is okay.

But Feathertail saves her. And she forgives her, at least as much as she can.

That night, Silverstream comes to her again for the first time in moons. She runs her tail over Leopardstar's scarred back and gives a soft, almost affectionate blink. There's an expression on her face Leopardstar can't identify.

"You did well." She whispers. "Rest, Leopardstar. Maybe there will be a place in StarClan for you after all."

sorry for the fanfiction anyways does anyone else see my vision. please say you do people keep calling me insane

.

[felice-jaganshi]

Alastor X OC

His Pet

Chapter 4

It was finally Extermination day. Zariah was given a prototype “invisibility suit” Carmilla was still working on as a test run. It made almost her whole body invisible by refracting the light away from her, but it wasn't perfect. In shadowy places she was fully visible, as there wasn't enough light to “bounce away”. 

She ran around healing every demon who got hurt, until she herself got stabbed in the shoulder. She immediately shrieked in pain and ran away! The suit being damaged broke it completely, so she booked it into the hotel, straight for the radio tower at full sprint.

After a while she stopped crying, the pain had gone numb by now. She was just shivering quietly in a corner when someone entered the room, singing.

She found a little corner and curled up into a ball, covering herself with her tails and sobbing. She couldn’t really do this! She was a coward! But… how could she abandon her friends? She should heal herself and head back down there! But what if Alastor needed her? Her energy was getting low, and this was the best place to wait for him. She decided this was where she'd stay, and wait for alastor to come rescue her.

‘Great Alastor altruist died for his friends’, sorry to disappoint, that is not where this ends!

“This place reeks of death, There's a chill in the air,

And I barely escaped being killed by a hair.

I'm hungry for freedom like never before.

The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor. 

Once I figure out how to unclip my wing, guess who will be pulling all the strings!”

Zariah hesitantly crawled out of her hidey hole while he laughed maniacally. 

“Al… you're hurt.” Her ears were folded against her head, and she reached out towards him. He suddenly stopped, realizing she was there.

“You… you heard all that, didn't you?” His smile was wide and his eyes filled with a dangerous rage.

She nodded slowly, “I want to help you Al, you're my friend. No matter what, it's you and me.” She stood up all the way holding out both her empty hands to him, even as she was bleeding from her own shoulder. 

His smile twitched. “My dear, if you really have any healing energy left, why haven't you used it on yourself?” He didn't trust this, she could have an angelic blade hidden somewhere!

She smiled, “I was saving my powers for you, like I promised. I wanted to make sure you were okay before wasting my powers on myself. It's not a lethal wound. Just hurts alot.” He then noticed how red and puffy under her eyes were. She had been crying, and a lot from the looks of it.

“Quite the pain tolerance you have then.” He complimented.

“Only for myself, please Al, let me heal you. I hate seeing you bleed.” She didn't step closer, but tried to will him to move with her eyes. He sighed and stepped closer hesitantly, only getting just barely close enough for her to place a hand on his chest. She closed her eyes and focused her power on him. It felt warm, and comforting. Like a warm blanket fresh from the wash. Like his mother's hugs. He blinked in confusion, now why was he thinking of something that specific at a time like this?

When he was all healed up, she pulled back her hand, “there all better.” She looked unsteady on her feet. “Huh, room's spinny…” she then collapsed, Alastor catching her before she could fall far.

“Rest now, darling. You've certainly earned it…” He smiled tenderly at her, he had made a good deal with this one… but now he needed to make sure she understood not to tell anyone about his secret.

They had started to rebuild the hotel, so he placed her in his room to rest. He wrapped up her wounds, and who could fault him if he tasted some of her blood? Angels taste Divine, pun intentional! 

He then locked the door and left her there to join in the song downstairs. 

After everything settled down, and night had fallen, Alastor brought a tray of food to his room to feed his captive.

Zariah was still sleeping and purring as she held his pillow in her arms. He found it both cute in its childishness, yet off putting because it was his pillow she had wrapped herself so cozily around.

He sat down the plate of food on the table he had in there, then went to gently shake her shoulder, “Zariah, it's time for dinner.” She gave a curious sound as she slowly opened her eyes, then turned her head and smiled at him. “Oh, hey Al.” She then sat up and looked around, “where am I?”

His smile was soft today, “Somewhere I could be certain you'd be safe to recover undisturbed, my room.”

Her eyes went wide and she looked around more closely. “Oh, I passed out, didn't i?”

He nodded, “yes you did, and I'm very curious what you remember from before that.”

She focused on his face and thought back. “You were hurt, so i healed you.”

“And before that?” His eyes narrowed.

She nodded, “nothing anyone could get out of me no matter what they do.” She hoped that's the answer he was looking for. She was loyal to him and wanted to prove it. Alastor reached out and pet her head, scratching his claws behind her ears.

“Good girl.” She purred in delight, and his hand felt strangely warm as she did. Like when she healed him before.

“Hm, you give the best scratches! It feels nice.” 

“Alright, my pet. Dinner is ready.” He moved out of her way. She got up and went to his table. “Oh? I'm your pet now?” She giggled and began eating.

“Does that not upset you? The idea of belonging to me?” He smirked at her. She blushed, choosing to finish her food before answering. 

“I… no, that doesn't bother me at all.. it'd actually make me really happy. But…” she looked a little sad.

[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (6/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Bobby arrives at his party. Sophie helps Gemma.

Word Count: ~3700

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

Sophie and Gemma joined the boys outside. She watched Gemma stride up to Clay. Noticed the way he, and everyone else, made space for her. As she reached Jax’s side, he smiled at her, then pulled flush against his side and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Nice shirt.” 

Rolling her eyes, Sophie pretended to ignore him. Which was actually impossible given that his scent surrounded her, and his fingers teased the skin at her waist. She could feel eyes on her, and as she glanced around, she noticed several women glaring daggers at her. Seemed as though there were quite a few who still wanted a ride on the Teller express. Glancing up at Jax she wondered if he’d let them. For all that they had talked about by the lake, nothing had been settled. One thing she did know about herself - she wouldn't tolerate Jax stepping out on her. If he didn’t want her anymore, that was one thing. But, to hate her so much, to disrespect her so much that he would cheat? It would be the end of anything between them. She’d lose trust. Still, she hesitated to tell him because part of her feared it would put too much pressure on the thing growing between them. 

A car pulling into the lot drew her from her thoughts. She watched the sedan roll to a stop. Stahl gets out of the passenger seat and Sophie has the sudden urge to duck back into the building. For a moment, everything freezes. Two parts of her world colliding. A separation between the two she hadn’t realized existed until confronted with both simultaneously. She’d just been thinking about Jax and fidelity - now, seeing a bitch she doesn’t even like she felt like tucking tail? Confrontation had not been something she made a habit of seeking out, but she was no coward. She’d never been under any illusions about Jax, about what SAMCRO did. Planting her feet, she slid her hand up under Jax’s kutte and wrapped it around his waist. She felt him look down at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she trained her eyes on Stahl, watched her take in the scene around her before her eyes locked on Sophie’s. 

The crowd around them erupted into cheers as a man with curly hair emerged from the back seat of the car. Another Son stepped closer and helped Bobby slide into his kutte. Quickly, he was engulfed by leather; other Sons clapping him on the back, knocking his shoulder, putting a beer in his hand. Given the greeting, he might as well have just come home from winning a great war. Glancing back over at Stahl’s pursed lips, Sophie thought he might have done exactly that. 

Clay moved closer to Stahl, giant grin on his face as he laughed at her. Sophie grinned. Jax stepped up closer to Clay, and since he hadn’t released his hold on her, Sophie moved along with him. Clay rested his hand on the roof of the car, shot a quick glance at Jax, a slight nod of his head, as though pleased about something. 

“Thanks for giving him a lift.” 

“I am a humble public servant.” 

Sophie tried to restrain her laugh. She did because this moment wasn’t about her. But, she laughed and it drew attention to her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sophie said, holding a hand up. “I know it was inappropriate timing, but you gotta admit, it was damn funny. If the whole ATF thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career in standup. Funny shit.” 

Clay grinned even wider, if that was even possible, and chuckled. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. Might be more successful at it, too.” 

Stahl gave them all an indulgent, but amused grin. 

“You wanna stick around awhile?” Jax asked, shit eating grin on his face. “I bet you could do some serious damage to a stripper pole.” 

Sophie did manage to choke back her laugh, but only because she felt more horrified than amused at the idea.   

Stahl’s gaze moved to Sophie as she spoke. “Oh, you have no idea, but looks like you’ve got all the entertainment you need for the night, sparky.” 

Feeling Jax tense beside her, Sophie crossed her fingers. She wanted to end this, but given where she was, who she stood between, she knew - as with the fight earlier, this wasn’t hers to fix. Thankfully, Jax just shook his head as though he recognized the bait for what it was. 

“Come on,” Clay ordered. “Let’s go welcome Bobby home before he passes out in pussy.” 

Jax smirked. “Yeah.” 

As they walked back towards the clubhouse, Gemma intercepted them. She linked her arm through Sophie’s and gently pulled her away from Jax. 

“I’m gonna borrow her for a minute. You boys go. We’ll catch up.”

Jax gave his mother a questioning look before shrugging. He pressed a kiss to Sophie’s cheek before following Clay towards the large group surrounding Bobby. Sophie looked up at Gemma, question clear on her face.

“Seems like you made a friend tonight.” 

Sophie snorted. “Yeah, our friendship will be the thing of legends.” 

Gemma led them over to an empty picnic table. She lit a cigarette and held it out to Sophie who took it. Allowing the silence to build, Sophie took leisurely drags from the cigarette. 

“I watched you with Jax,” Gemma said after a moment. 

Sophie didn’t say anything as she blew smoke past her lips. 

“The other bitches around here tonight, they watched you to. As did the guys. Want to know what they saw?” 

Flicking ash from her smoke, Sophie inclined her head. Not that she figured it would matter if she’d said no. Gemma spoke her mind regardless of what other people thought about it. 

“They saw a woman stand by her man, saw a woman make her choice. It might not be love, not yet, but it was enough for you to choose him.” 

Sophie felt her eyes widen. How much had Gemma seen? 

Gemma waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Jax didn’t notice a thing. He’s a man, and they don’t pay attention to things the way we do. I saw you though. Saw the flinch when that ATF cunt got out of the car. Saw you way the options - knew the moment the scale tipped.” 

Sophie snubbed out the cigarette. “You don’t seem unhappy about it. I got the impression you didn’t like me around your son.” 

Gemma smirked. “No woman is ever going to be good enough for my son in my eyes, no matter how perfect she might be. It’s a mother thing.”

She watched Gemma flick ash from her own cigarette. “This life, it’s not for the weak. Not everyone is meant for it, nothing wrong with that. You lean in when most would pull back. That’s what I saw tonight. That’s why I’m willing to give you a chance, see how it plays out.” 

Sophie nodded. “Don’t misunderstand what happened here tonight, Gemma. I decided not to let some uptight federal agent with a hard-on for misery dictate my choices. It ain’t none of her business where I spend my time on a Friday night, or with whom I spend it. She needed to know that.” 

A slow smile spread across Gemma’s face. “Sweetheart, everyone knows.” 

After the party, things between her and Jax shifted. He began giving her a ride to work each day and she couldn’t help but wonder if part of it was to push Stahl’s buttons. Of course, she knew he loved the feel of her wrapped around him as much as she enjoyed the feel of him in her arms. Aside from that, they hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time together. He didn’t talk about it, but Sophie knew something club-related was bothering him. Not that she had much time to offer him either. Her sister’s lawyer had contacted her partway through the week. The house in San Bernardino had sold. Jax wanted to go with her. Wanted to send someone down with her. She’d pushed back. Told him no. Finally, when she’d threatened to shoot out the tires of any Son she caught tailing her, he relented.

It hadn’t taken long, just as the real estate agent had indicated, for her sister’s house to sell. Seeing the house one last time had been difficult, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake in not having Jax come with her as she’d sat in her car, tears streaming down her face. The grief felt different, a bit detached now. Olivia had left her everything in her will. When Olivia and Micahel had first told her about it, she’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, but Michael had shrugged his shoulders and agreed with Olivia. Everything had been in her name anyway because it kept Olivia safe should something happen to her husband. When the lawyer had contacted her after Olivia’s murder, Sophie had said to sell everything. The house had been the last bit of her sister - and the life she’d made. 

Being away from Charming had been hard in a way she hadn’t expected. Passing the “Welcome to Charming” sign made her feel settled. Approaching the last intersection leading into town, Sophie slowed her car as she caught sight of Gemma’s Cadillac stopped at the light. There was a minivan behind, back doors wide open. Pulling her own car off to the side of the road, Sophie pulled her gun as she slid from the car. Something about the situation and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Nothing about what she knew about Gemma indicated the woman would stop just to help some stranger on the side of the road. Moving quietly towards them, she heard Gemma’s voice. Gemma and a blond woman hurried towards the open minivan.

“Is the baby breathing?” Sophie heard Gemma ask.

Just as she was about to holster her weapon, she saw the blond reach behind her and pull something. She couldn’t make out the shape of it in the dark. Sophie made her way to the van just as Gemma leaned into it.

“What the - ”

“Gemma!” 

The blonde hit Gemma over the head just as she’d been turning to locate the sound of the voice calling her name.

“Shit!” 

Sophie watched Gemma fall forward onto the backseat of the van as the blonde turned to face her. Keeping her gun trained on the woman, she moved a bit to the side, trying to see if Gemma was still breathing. 

“Don’t move.” 

The woman glared before doing the opposite of what she’d been told. The shot rang through the stillness of the night. The woman’s startled shout echoed as she fell back against the driver’s side door, hand clutching the blood at her shoulder. Sophie switched her gun to her left hand, before moving over to where Gemma still lay in the back. Pressing fingers to her neck, she wondered if it might be a good time to take up religion. 

Thankfully, she felt a pulse flutter beneath her fingers. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

Sophie glanced down at the woman, who glared up at her through the pain visible in her eyes. 

“Could ask you the same thing.” 

Leaving the woman to sit and nurse her wound, Sophie reached forward and tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of Gemma’s shirt; she’d apologize for it later. Covering her hand with the fabric, she opened the front door and glanced around. Spotting a purse sitting on the passenger’s seat, Sophie reached for it. Pulling out the wallet, she flipped it open and found the ID. 

Ice filled her veins. Her grip on the gun in her hand tightened so much she knew her hand was shaking. The edges of her vision began to lose focus. 

Pollyanna Zobelle. 

It made a certain sort of sense. It matched some of the timeline she’d put together about what had happened to her sister. And, if it had worked once, the same tactic was likely to work again. Putting everything back the way she’d found it, Sophie closed the door. She unwrapped the fabric from her hand, and dropped it in front of the open van door. Scuffing it beneath her boots a bit, she worked to make it seem as though the shirt had been torn in a struggle. Looking back at Gemma she swore. She hadn’t noticed the blood when she’d been looking for a pulse, but it was there. Glancing back at Polly, she noticed how pale she was, how the blood now oozed sluggishly out of her shoulder. She’d live, but did need medical attention. It would be so easy to put a bullet in her head, and Sophie’s arm continued to shake as she stood there staring at her. 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Polly said through gritted teeth. 

“Whatever you need to believe, you neo-Nazi bitch. What I do know is I kept you from hurting a woman who hasn’t done a damn thing to you.” 

Hauling Polly up, Sophie pulled the girl over to the open van door. Turning, she placed her gun in Polly’s hand, wrapped her own around it.

“You’re going to pull the trigger, or I’m going to gut you and leave your innards spread all across this highway,” Sophie breathed against her ear. 

Polly trembled in her arms, but decided to be smart about things. Sophie moved her hand, so that any gunshot residue would land on Polly’s skin, proving she too had fired the weapon. It might not help her too much in the end, but every little bit helped.

“Good girl.” 

Sophie landed a backhand to the woman’s face, sending her to the ground before recovering her weapon. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she did the only thing she could think of in the moment. She called the Charming police department to report an assault. While she waited, she considered calling Jax, but knew if he showed up, it would be bad. It was going to be bad either way, but she’d discharged her weapon. A legal, registered weapon - but with just cause. Getting outlaw bikers involved this early wouldn't help. It also meant they might go after Zobelle on their own, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. 

Eventually, she saw lights in the distance, heard the sound of the jeep coming to a stop, doors opening and closing. The unmistakable sound of a round being chambered. 

“Sophie,” David’s voice was full cop. “I need you to lower the weapon.” 

Moving her finger from the trigger, Sophie moved her hand to show the weapon was disengaged before slowly lowering it to the ground. She stood still as she heard David walk up behind her and kick the weapon further away. 

“I’m going to cuff you; it’s procedure.” 

Sophie placed her hands behind her head. “Please call an ambulance. Gemma’s been attacked. She was breathing, but there’s blood on the back of her head.” 

David slid the cuffs onto her wrists, leaving her standing there while he took in the scene before him. He checked Gemma first before he heard Polly’s moan. Moving quickly to her side, he found the gunshot wound on her shoulder. Over his shoulder, he sent Sophie a questioning glance. 

“You didn’t think to mention the woman you shot?”

Of course, David assumed she’d shot the woman. Just because he was correct, didn’t make his automatic reaction any better. Unable to speak, concerned she’d blurt out too much right now, she just nodded. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before reaching for the radio on his shoulder and calling it in. 

“What happened?” 

Taking a deep breath, Sophie met his gaze. “I was coming back into town, and I saw Gemma’s car stopped there. She had been looking into the back of the minivan. I think the blonde told her there was something wrong with the baby. It’s a doll, but before I could get all the way over, she’d hit Gemma in the back of the head with something black. I told her to stop, to put it down, but she wouldn’t. She reached for something else, so I shot her. I wouldn’t have made it to Gemma quickly enough to stop a second attack. When I did get to the van, I leaned in to check on Gemma when the blonde knocked into my side. The gun got loose and she managed to fire off a shot as I stood to my feet, but she missed. I hit her in the face, knocking the gun loose, and when I had her subdued again, I called it in.” 

“You know it’ll be easy to tell if what you’re saying is the truth.” 

Sophie met his eyes. “Why would I lie?” 

David shook his head. He moved over to where Polly was leaning against the van. 

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Sophie held her breath. At best, it would be a she said, she said situation until Gemma woke up, but to her surprise, Polly just shook her head. David sighed again. 

When the ambulance pulled up, David quickly explained the situation before escorting Sophie to the car. He opened the back door and helped her into it. As she’d told Gemma, she’d been in the backseat of a police car more often than the front. Peering out the window, she watched the EMTs load Gemma into an ambulance. David didn’t try to strike up a conversation with her, but she could feel him shooting glances at her from the rearview mirror. She’d told him everything she was going to say about what happened tonight. While he might not know it, the good deputy should be pleased he didn’t arrive at a murder scene. Not that she planned to be that sloppy. She couldn’t get revenge for Olivia from prison. 

“Aw, shit,” Unser mumbled as he watched David escort Sophie into the holding cells. 

Sophie gave a little shrug of her shoulders because there wasn’t much else for any of them to do. If they didn’t already know, she figured Unser was on his way to call the boys, let them know. David swabbed her hand to test for gunpowder residue as he read her her rights since she was being held pending the charge of assault with a deadly weapon. 

David crossed his arms. “Is there any point in asking you any other questions?” 

Sophie looked up at him. “Told you everything I have to say without the presence of my lawyer, Deputy Hale.” 

Laying down on the bench, Sophie crossed her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling. Thankfully, she did have a good lawyer, and assuming they found the GSR on Polly’s hand also, her story would hold up. She figured Gemma would support her story if only to be able to use it against her later. The shot had been clean, and missed anything important. Assuming she had a half-competent doctor treating her in the ER, she wouldn't even lose any range of motion in her shoulder.    

Commotion from down the hallway drew her attention. Sophie turned her head towards the door just as she saw Jax rushing towards her, David and Unser hot on his heels. 

“Jesus,” Jax swore. “Soph, you okay?” 

Sitting up, Sophie nodded her head before she stood. “I’m fine Jax. How’s Gemma?” 

She moved towards the door, rested her hands on the bars, and looked up at Jax. He seemed tired. He placed his hands on top of hers and gave them a little squeeze. 

“She’s gonna be fine. Thanks to you it’s just a little bump on her head.” 

Sophie squeezed her eyes closed, felt a couple of stray tears escape. She felt so relieved she’d been able to save Gemma, especially when she hadn’t been able to save Olivia. It didn’t fix anything, but it helped. 

“I’m gonna get you out of here.” 

“Jax - ”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You saved my mom tonight. Least I can do is spring you from the slammer.” 

Figuring she wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it she just nodded, offered him a smile, and watched him strut back down the hallway. Only a few minutes passed before David came striding down the hall, face all grim lines. 

“What happened?”

David’s eyes snapped to hers, and she wished she’d kept her damn mouth shut. 

“Apparently, your story holds up. They found GSR on Polly’s hands and Gemma’s version of events lined up. Everything nice and tidy. Plus, no one is pressing charges, so I have no reason to hold you anymore.” 

“For someone who found out I was telling the truth, you seem awfully upset about it.” 

David gave her a tight smile. “That’s the thing, Sophie, I don’t think you did tell me the truth. Not all of it, and I can’t figure out why. I don’t think you went looking for trouble tonight. And I believe you kept Gemma safe from whatever the hell is going on, but I have a feeling you know a hell of a lot more than you're saying. I just wish you could trust me.” 

Taking a deep breath, Sophie looked up at David. “I do trust you, David. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have called the station. I’m a resourceful person, law-abiding or not - I didn’t need your help tonight. But, you’re a good man, trying to do some good around here. Take the win.” 

David unlocked the door without answering. He nodded down the hall. “Jax is waiting for you out front.” 

She nodded her head as she passed him. What he didn’t know in this instance wouldn’t hurt him, but she did want to know why Polly chose not to press charges. Why no one wanted to press charges. 

Jax wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his body. Sophie tucked her face up under his chin and breathed in the scent of him. 

“Did you get hurt?” 

Sophie shook her head. “No. How’s Gemma?”

“She’s fine. Wants to talk to you. So does Clay, but if you’re not up to it - ”

“I’m fine.” Sophie pressed her hand to his chest. “Let’s go see Gemma.”

Part 7

Master List

[crimeronan]

dogbird asker, i meant luz as the dog and hunter as the bird. unsure how i messed that up. anyway here is some lyrical analysis:

"Sorry that I’m scared of thunder like a dog I know that you love rain But I cry when something shakes the walls Tail between my legs I scratch while you relax Ruffling feathers watching storm clouds pass Hoping I’ll make you hate the thunder too Digging in my claws will make you hate me too"

this ENTIRE first verse is very much luz considering EVERYTHING she does that even slightly hurts him an act to hurt hunter on purpose. definitely. and that last line - yeah. she wants him to hate her so bad.

"I wish I could take you back to California Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me Little Bird won’t you fly away Little Bird won’t you fly away"

this entire part of the chorus.. mmm. i wish you had never heard of creatures like me (humans) and you need to leave. please leave for your own sake.

"And sorry that I roll over to my folks It’s not that I’m ashamed"

luz being forced to isolate hunter and bend to belos's whims for so so long to protect him. she has to roll over unless he gets hurt.

"I’m a hunting breed And bird is all they eat If they sniff you out, they gnash their teeth"

luz feeling so SO fucking guilty about being human. all she knows of humans is that they hurt witches like hunter (im a hunting breed). she thinks its in her blood to hurt him too now. oh baby...

"I’m a coward scared of living outside Even if it means I crush you at my side"

luz cant ever live outside. she wont let herself leave the castle, the isles, because of her duty, and therefore hunter has to stay too. even though hes miserable. and she feels like shes destroying him, at her side..

"Don’t you fear me? Hunting songbirds in my sleep"

luz murdering hunter nightmares, do i need to say more.

"Sorry that I don’t treat you like I should I only lick my wounds Teeth bared, and snap “You’re all that’s good”"

luz being so stuck handling her own issues that she cant help him, even though he helps her so much. he keeps giving but she knows hes gonna go empty, she knows it. but hes all thats good.

"If I chase you away I’m back to chasing tail Running circles after what was real And maybe one day I’ll catch it, and I’ll cry Wishing that little songbird was still mine"

this last bit admittedly doesnt fit the best. but its too me her fear that she'll end up like belos. what if he comes to his sense and escapes and she hates him for it? what if shes just like him, what if she'll go in circles trying to recreate hunter? running circles after what was real like belos? she'll catch a "hunter" and she'll fucking hate it because it isnt her hunter?

WAHH.... my girl.... yeah.... :(

your mixup was actually pretty serendipitous given JUST HOW STRONGLY i saw hunter when the POVs were swapped. just goes to show how deeply luz and hunter are wrestling with the same feelings, just through slightly different lenses....

i'll swap you the hunter POV thoughts i had!

"Sorry that I’m scared of thunder like a dog I know that you love rain But I cry when something shakes the walls"

everything when they were kids, hunter trying to keep luz out of trouble, hunter being the one who's always SO keyed up and aware of danger around them

-

"Tail between my legs I scratch while you relax Ruffling feathers watching storm clouds pass"

every early bit pre-horrors where luz notes how tense and anxious hunter gets around belos, around other people in the castle, around conflict, around all these things that have (at least she'd like to believe) never hurt luz

-

"Hoping I’ll make you hate the thunder too Digging in my claws will make you hate me too"

the push and pull between "i need to keep you safe and none of the things we do are safe" and "if i make you follow the rules i'm gonna suffocate you"

-

"I can’t stand you in my bed You’re too gentle I need you to hurt me back instead"

self-explanatory. the "you're too good for me" goes both ways baybey!

-

"I wish I could take you back to California Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me Little Bird won’t you fly away"

HE WANTS TO GET HER OUT OF THE CASTLE SO BADDD.... he can't quite wish that she'd never come to the isles but he's sick with himself for that because he's sure she'd be happier with a human life.

also bonus in that hunter doesn't actually Know about all the grimwalker horrors, but wow. it Sure Fucking Would Be Nice for luz to have never heard of creatures like him, huh,

-

"And sorry that I roll over to my folks It’s not that I’m ashamed But they keep me on the leash to choke"

this is also hunter about belos. love that these two kids are so completely fucked up because of that guy. leave them alone!!

-

"I’m a hunting breed And bird is all they eat If they sniff you out, they gnash their teeth"

hunter knowing how much luz loves wild magic and how much wild magic loves her and being Fucking Terrified of belos finding out about that. and fucking terrified of belos hurting her in general.

also. hunter the hunting breed indeed

-

"I’m a coward scared of living outside Even if it means I crush you at my side"

hunter feeling guilty that he never ran away with luz when they were kids or otherwise Got Her The Fuck Out Of There...

-

"When the bell rings My mouth waters I’m a habit That won’t alter"

hunter in the present day where the timeline is at right now feeling like he's drowning because he doesn't know how to apply his Protect Luz skillsets when belos is dead and luz's greatest enemy is herself...

-

"I’m an instinct Don’t you fear me? Hunting songbirds in my sleep"

not quite as neat a nightmare parallel for hunter, but wow this can just be. Boy Who Has Killed So Many People

-

"Sorry that I don’t treat you like I should I only lick my wounds Teeth bared, and snap “You’re all that’s good”"

every fight they've ever had with hunter going "why won't you accept that i love you. you are the only decent person in the entire world" and luz going "THAT IS WHY"

-

"If I chase you away I’m back to chasing tail Running circles after what was real And maybe one day I’ll catch it, and I’ll cry Wishing that little songbird was still mine"

boys who are So Fucking Freaked Out by the thought of any kind of future without luz. while also forcing themselves to be okay with it as long as she's alive and happy somewhere. it's Fine. It's Fine. It's Fine...

[dawngen]

Dappleddusk remained on damage control for the rest of the night, working alongside Beewatcher and the clan's mediators, Hollyclaw and Heatherflower.

The most important cat in need of their attention was obviously Sandfeather, but they squared away any other cats visibly shaken by the day's events to be spoken to individually. Beewatcher herded Sandfeather away to a private corner far from the medicine cats' den where Eagleburn remained, having an apprentice fetch some catmint from their stores.

With everyone delegated and working on their tasks, Dappleddusk found herself slowly padding towards the medicine cats' den. She knew full well Oatstar had been in there since the end of the gathering--she had watched him slip in, and never come back out. She should be avoiding the den, in fact. She should be furious and focusing on other tasks to keep her mind busy.

But she wasn't going to see Oatstar.

She needed to see Eagleburn.

"--I didn't know what else to do."

As she slowly poked in her head, barely missing the apprentice skirting past her on catmint-fetching duty, she heard Oatstar's whisper.

"I understand, you were put into a difficult position," Eagleburn's reassuring, deep voice answered, soothing. Dappleddusk felt her lip curl at the sound of him reassuring that coward, but...

It was all an act, wasn't it?

Eagleburn knew exactly how to play into the tom cat's feelings, making him feel validated, but also further enmeshing them.

"Dappleddusk, you can come over. It's alright."

Foxdung. She forgot how keen his senses were with the absence of his sight.

Oatstar likewise seemed surprised, sitting upright in a shock as his interim deputy slunk forward. Head down, shoulders hunched, tail low, she looked ready to swat at Oatstar, and he shrunk back, no longer confident as he was outside. But she chose to sit, ears flat as her tail wrapped itself over her forepaws.

"So you heard?"

"All of it. A bit too much, actually."

Eagleburn seemed perfectly fine with it all by Dappleddusk's assessment, licking a paw and lifting it to groom his ears.

"I would have given everyone more than the night to settle their feelings, but I know, Oatstar, you were under pressure."

Oatstar looked away, shameful. Good, thought Dappleddusk, resisting the urge to sneer.

"In the morning, before the dawn patrol, let me speak with the clan. Let them address me as they need."

Dappleddusk and Oatstar both looked at Eagleburn in shared surprise.

"Are you a glutton for punishment?" asked Dappleddusk, incredulous. "They'll rip you to shreds!"

"And they won't feel at peace until they have a chance to do so," Eagleburn firmly replied. "Do you think Sandfeather will leave peacefully? Not only that, but if she leaves, you fracture an entire family of good cats who have been nothing but loyal to DawnClan. Sandfeather's grandmother was one of our founders when HillClan fell."

Ugh, he made a good point.

"Then, you are...?"

"I want to open a dialogue, and if Sandfeather, or any others, are not satisfied with that..."

He quieted, flexing his claws into his mossy bed.

"They can speak to me through their actions."

Unable to believe her ears, Dappleddusk stared.

"You're willing to risk getting killed in a fight so they can get over themselves?"

"I killed Bayspots. Even while it was self-defense, it is, as you said Oatstar, a sin and a smear on StarClan's face. How else should I show to Sandfeather that I truly seek redemption and forgiveness for committing the worst possible thing?"

Dappleddusk fell silent, and Oatstar, of course, had no good advice, only shifting nervously. Unfortunately, Eagleburn made a good point. While it was utterly insane, forcing Sandfeather to leave was far from a good idea, along with not letting her work through this anger and letting it simmer. They could see a civil war within their very clan.

"... Very well," Dappleddusk sighed. "I will do whatever I can to help."

Eagleburn's whiskers twitched, letting out a short purr.

"Thank you, Dappleddusk. Oatstar, are you okay with this?"

"Of course."

Dappleddusk loathed how quick he was to agree, glancing over at him. Oatstar's eyes were wholly on Eagleburn, however.

"Whatever you need."

Nodding, Eagleburn yawned.

"For now, both of you should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

[wellthebardsdead]

Riiju-Lei: *quietly walking across the bridge into windhelm* gods I forgot how cold home is.

Kaidan: I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you’d willingly live here.

Riiju-Lei: it’s where I was raised. My parents used to own the stables. They’re buried in the hall of the dead here too. It’s home. *walks through the gates immediately seeing another dark elf being harassed* even if it doesn’t feel like it… *walks over wedging himself in front of the woman* What did I tell you about harassing us Rolff…

Rolff: oh look if it isn’t the knife eared lizard boy~ what are you going to do about it outsider? Hit me?

Riiju-Lei: I’ve lived in this city longer than you you your fathers before you. I’ve seen it fall into ruin under ulfrics rule. And I’ve watched countless of my friends die for his senseless war. So I’m warning you now. *folds his arms, his hair floating up like fire as arcane energy crackles through his skin making his birthmark glow like hot metal* Leave us alone. Because your brother won’t be able to save you from me…

Rolff: … *backs off a little*

Riiju-Lei: *glares at him before turning his back to address suvaris*

Rolff: *suddenly goes to hit him while he’s not looking*

Kaidan: *socks him hard across the face knocking him out cold, the claws on his gauntlets ripping half of his skin clean off* Oi! You want to fight like a coward then you deal with me! *shakes his hand cracking his knuckles* Stone fist more like stone head- *glares at Angernor* You want a focking round too ay?

Angernor: *jumps and quickly runs off with his tail in between his legs*

Suvaris: well then. Thank you for that, it’s good to see you again Leilei. We all thought we’d never see you again given your house burned down.

Riiju-Lei: …what?…

Taliesin: *hurries through the gates after getting the horses boarded for the night* right I’m h- *looks at the bloodied and possibly dead nord on the ground and the look of shock on Riiju’s face* …what did I miss?

*a few minutes later*

Riiju-Lei: *staring at a burned wreckage that used to be his home, now blanketed in snow and the remaining brickwork covered in slurs written in soot* …my house… it’s… gone…

Taliesin: I wonder if anyone saw what caused it…

Kaidan: *looking at the slurs* Or who caused it- LeiLei be careful-

Riiju-Lei: *climbing through the wreckage, seemingly emotionless as always as he moves boards and snow out of the way, hoping, praying, then sighing with relief as he finds a small chest*

Taliesin: Leilei?…

Riiju-Lei: *opens the chest up and pulls out an old piece of fabric before draping it around his shoulders like a scarf* I’m okay… *climbs out of the wreckage and sighs*

Kaidan: what’s that? *gestures to the scarf*

Riiju-Lei: the sling my mother brought me to skyrim in… it’s all… all I have left of my parents now…

Taliesin: *gently pats his back* at least… something important survived…

Riiju-Lei: *sighs and nods* I suppose we should go see if the corner club has any rooms… *walks down the street and pauses as a little girl runs out in front of him*

Sofie: mr? Would you like to buy some flowers for your pretty lady?

Riiju-Lei: pretty lady?

Kaidan: *snickers and nudges Taliesin* I think she’s talking about you~

Taliesin: …Well she got the pretty part right at least~

Kaidan: Pffft, if your ego got any higher we’d need a permit to grow it.

Riiju-Lei: *suddenly picks Sofie up putting her on his back* You two are going to have to put your bickering on hold until we get back to whiterun. I have a daughter now, Sofie.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

The Darkness

Fandom: Once Upon a Time Summary: He made her this way. Warnings: Dark romance, implied sexual content, and dark one typical shenanigans Word Count: 835 Ship(s): Rumpelstiltskin | Mr. Gold/Emma Swan

Archive link!

A/N: If you're wondering why I wrote this, you should blame one of my mutuals (@therulerofallpotatos)for putting this ship in my head when I already had brainrot for OUAT lol. I hope that you guys enjoy because I might be writing more of this soon! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

He made her this way.

Hundreds of years ago, he had tried to do the right thing for the woman that he had loved back then. He had hurt and betrayed her more times than he could count and he had wanted to make sure that she had something, but then others had done actions to bring him back. It had resulted in a twisted tail of backstabbing and hurt that both of them would carry with them forever, now.

Rumplestilskin had lost Belle many, many years ago. He had lost her when he had cruelly ripped her away from her family instead of simply using his powers to disappear the ogres the same way that he had when his son had been taken. He had never really had her, because she had never loved him the way that he was. She had always been looking for some tiny part of him that she could drag out and forge into what she pleased. He had never been the image that she had been hoping for and it was unlikely that he ever would have been, even if he had pursued it.

Yet, in that moment he had given up everything that he was and could ever be to try and prove that he had loved her. He had earned a redemption through the sacrifice that he had made for both her and for his son. Then they had both done the unthinkable and brought him back, ruining everything that he had worked so hard to give himself.

Another undying life was forced upon him, the darkness had wormed itself so far into his soul that there was no way it was ever going to leave him. He held it with him even if he was not the True Dark One, the one that held their name on the dagger forged from the tip of Excalibur. That title belonged to the woman who truly had worked to make him a better version of himself, Emma Swan. 

She had been part of his plan from the very beginning. He had known that she was going to be beautiful, resilient, fierce, all the things that her heroic parents were. He wasn’t counting on her pushing and pulling him in exactly the way that he needed until he felt caught in her web. It didn’t feel like a trick, like she was trying to make him become something other than a coward that lusted after power with every breath he took, not the same way that it had will Belle. Instead it was her using him as her own weapon, which made the very fiber of his being sing with want and need for her.

He hadn’t wanted to pollute her with the same kind of darkness that he had. Despite the desperation that his heart had for her, he had chosen instead to help her make the light inside of her flourish. He was happy to continue trying to chase after the woman that could never and would never truly love him while she became the hero he had always planned for her to be. But then she had chosen a route that none of them had ever anticipated, taking the darkness into herself.

Something had happened, when the shadow version of his Dark One self was helping her learn how to control her own powers all while she futilely gripped onto the light he had encouraged her towards. Hundreds of years after that happened, he wished that he hadn’t. It might have been easier for her to make the transition, might have eased some of her pain, if he hadn’t pushed her in one direction in the first place.

Still, Emma had become the Dark One after him. She took to the darkness and the power well. She directed herself much in the same way that she had directed him. She leaned how to make decisions that other people could not, to help protect them in ways that they couldn’t understand. The darkness had somehow made her more beautiful than he ever thought she could be before.

He noticed the beauty in the moments that she raised kingdoms that had dared to cross her own, in the way that she struck down the members of her war table that dared to doubt her endless wisdom in her judgment. He also noticed it in the moments that they shared in their endless life together. The way that she would wrap her arms around his torso and pull him into her when she decided that he had been working on his contracts for too long. The way that she would pick at her food when she had ordered something she didn’t like until he magicked it into her favorite. The way that she brushed her fingers over his forehead to remove the hair after she had finished worshiping him as if he were her god instead of her being his goddess.

She was beautiful, divine, and so wondrously dark.

[ratasum]

Gonna ask 3, 4 and 8 for Liath for the oc interviews!

OC Interview Questions

3. What is your favorite childhood memory?

She snorts, scratching her chin with a chuckle, lip curling back on a half grin over her broken fang.

"It's hard for me to remember that far back. But I suppose it was when I joined the fahrar. I was the youngest of my mother's cubs. The smallest, too, if you can believe that. A lot of the other cubs thought it would be a laugh to push around the smaller cubs. Hazing of some kind. Well, I wasn't having it. I fought back against one of those little shits."

Liath snickers, giving her head a shake as she thinks back on what happened that day.

"I put him on his back and bloodied his nose. Made him squeal. He followed me around just about everywhere after that. I outgrew him at some point. And wouldn't you know it, that bastard eventually wound up siring one of my cubs. Rytlock, as a matter of fact."

4. What is your least favorite childhood memory?

"The day my sire died."

Liath's hackles raise slightly at the mention, and she growls as her tail lashes, kicking up dust behind her.

"I've known plenty of honorable gladium. Some of them became part of my own warband, as well as those I've commanded as a centurion. But him? He was a damn coward. He was leading his warband against a human patrol, and when it became obvious they were outgunned, instead of falling back to regroup? He left them to die."

Her lips curl back on her fangs, a snarl rolling out of her throat.

"When he got back, he played up as if he'd just barely escaped with his life. It didn't take long for the truth to come out, though, when two of his warband managed to make it back and told the whole truth. They were given the honor of killing him themselves. I was in my first warband, but I took some time to stand and watch him face their blades. That day, I vowed to never be as miserable a charr as he was, and I've led the charr under my command to victories and defeats, but I've made sure almost all of them came through alive."

8. What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

"When I first became a legionnaire, I met the Blood Imperator at the time, Orinia Pyrebane. She was vicious, old but still in her prime. She saw something in me, and maybe I should have seen it too. It was because of her that I found my stride and became the charr I am today. I have to admit, I learned a great deal from her. From her determination to her leadership skills, she was a role model without equal."

She chuffs irritably, though a smile still rests faintly on her graying muzzle.

"She had me on a shortlist of candidates when she finally died for the next Imperator. But I refused... and Ruinbringer got the placement. One of my greatest regrets."

[sinvulkt]

Angstpril: 27. HEATED Argument -scel & sin?

@whumpril - Day. 27. Forced To Kneel | Grabbed by Collar

I flew and I flew, leaving the Temple behind.  The Council had given me orders to stay put, but slipping away was all too easy. The Jedi would regret these ‘extra Shadow lessons’ they made me take.

Scel had gone too far. He had hurt Pat, and I’d make sure he regretted this. It was time he remembered he wasn’t the only one with teeth.

✯ ✯ ✯ ꒰ঌ ⚔ ໒꒱ 𓆩⚔𓆪 ꒰ঌ ⚔ ໒꒱ ✯ ✯ ✯

Tracking down Scélérat was eerily easy. He hadn’t gone back underground yet, too occupied to tie up the loose ends left by his last mission debacle. As soon as the theelin entered my sight, I dove, not leaving him the time to react as I closed my grip around his throat.

“You went too far!” I shouted as we both collapsed on the ground.

“I went light on him," Scélérat snapped back. He pushed me away and stood back up, dusting himself with a scowl. "With his past on the street, it should have been nothing.”

My tail lashed. Thoughts scrambled in my head, inarticulately, struggling to make sense. By the tunneling of my vision and the pulse in my head, I knew I was angry.

Nothing good ever came out of anger. The sparks had already ignited the fire however, and there was a whole inferno burning in my mind. And it was all too eager to be spread. 

“Pat doesn’t have the same past as you!" I shouted as I charged the source of my ire. "He never suffered that way.”

“As if you’d know,” Scélérat scoffed, easily side-stepping the blow. “The way I remember it, you never suffered that way either.”

“Nor would you, had you been more clever,” I retorted.

“If I had been a coward,” Scélérat sneered.

The fight felt good. Both the physical and verbal sparring. It was as if venom filled my throat, as if lava filled my veins, and both wanted to get out. Something in me whispered that it was wrong, that I was attacking Scélérat for the wrong reasons… but the fire raged on, and worse, I didn’t want to stop it.

The fight felt good.

At some point, either me or Scélérat had lit on their lightsabers, and the other had followed suit. Bystanders gawked and gossiped, but never for long- most people knew better than to interfere in a Force Sensitive fight. The plasma blades added a dangerous edge to our spar, a lethality nothing else could quite achieve; and it sent adrenaline roaring through my heart.

“Who do you think ends up laying half dead on the street?" I taunted. "The brave dog or the cowardly rat?”

Scélérat’s retort was a rageous move, and I almost released my shoto as my arm erupted in pain. A simple graze, if painful. I smirked, knowing the recklessness meant my words had struck true. “For all your bravado," I mocked, "I don’t see you at the top of the food chain." A powerful flap from my wings took me out of reach. "Tell me Scel, how does it feel to be beneath Dooku’s leash?"

“I’m higher than you’ll ever be, traitor.”

Debatable, as I currently held the higher ground. The beast in me was purring like a cat who had gotten its cream. It urged me to continue to play, to spit more of the ignited venom that burned my lungs, but the low rumble of army shuttles alerted me that Separatist reinforcements had arrived. It was time to end the game.

“Perhaps," I amended. After all, far from me to deny I was also on a tight leash- albeit from the opposite side. "But I’ll fly longer.”

I smirked and flew away, knowing the Separatists would be far too slow to catch me. The Force twirled around me like wisps of smoke of the fire I had unleashed. It spoke to me, about unnecessary hurt and rage, about devastation. It whispered about false freedom and release, about chains made and unmade by the very person who wore them.

Soon, I’d listen to it. Soon, I’d be forced to kneel; I’d tuck my chin and deferentially bow my head to the world, as it wrapped me back in used chains that vainly pulled and clicked at every misstep. Soon, I’d wear my sentient skin again, step back onto the stage and put a smile on my face as I gave my audience a good show. 

Right now, though?

Right now, I was a beast.

(And worse, I didn’t want to stop it.)

[madds-is-ace-trash]

PART 2 Electric bogaloo

also we on Ao3 Now

Is It Gay If Were Both Dead? (2587 words) by Ace_Trash

  “I AM THE BOX GHOST,” the ghost shouted again before chucking a crate at robin. Damian jumped out of the way with ease, but he was clearly annoyed at the whole situation and Jason didn’t blame him. 

  “ Do you really think it’s a ghost?” Dick asked over the coms. 

  “I don’t care what it is, I'm sick of this shit,” Jason grabbed the knife mister ‘ Cheshire cat‘ had given him from his belt. The knife was cool and Jason had checked it for trackers; he wasn't going to let a perfectly good knife lay abandoned. 

Jason lunged at boxy with his knife, the minute the creature layed eyes on the blade he recoiled in fear. 

  “ I’m sorry!” The floating man shouted as he zoomed higher into the sky away from Jason. 

  “ Oh now you're sorry, get down here and fight me coward!” 

  “ I didn't know you were the one  King Phantom was courting .I’ll leave just please don’t tell him I was here.” and just like that the ghost blipped out of existence. 

  Phantom? King? Courting? So many questions raced through Jason’s mind. Then he looked at the blade in his hand, could the ghosts see the raven? The way he was holding it should have made that impossible. 

  “Come on, let's get back to the cave,” dick slapped him lightly in the back, breaking his trance. 

  “See you bastards next time,” Jason started making his way towards his bike when he was grabbed by his jacket collar like a kitten. 

  “OH no you don’t, you're coming back to the cave” Dick gave him a stern look. 

  “What why!?” 

  “You got some explaining to do, Oracles been saying you’ve been acting weird and that ghost said you were being courted,” 

  “ Yes I agree with Nightwing, you have some explaining to do,” the demon brat snarled. 

  Shit he wasn’t getting out of this. He pocket his knife and grumbly followed his brother. 

  ————————/————————

That ghosts had said King Phantom was courting his baby brother O no he would not stand for it. First of all who was this phantom guy and what did his jaylad have to do with the green, glowing, box loving man they just fought? 

  “Ok take it from the top, first of all who’s Phantom?” Jason was standing  in the cave with his helmet off but his domino still in his face. 

  “I already told you Dick I don’t know!” 

  “He reacted to your knife, did he not Todd?,” Damian jesters to the pocket he has stashed his new toy in, “ let’s start there, where do you get that knife.I have not Seen you with it before.” 

  “It was a gift.” That wasn’t a lie it technically was a gift but Jason really didn’t want to talk about his stalker problem especially if apparently it was a ghost. 

  “ From who Jaylad?” 

  “Uhhhhhhh” his brother was stalling. That's not good, Jason knows something. 

  “ Maybe if we analyze the knife we can find out where it’s from? See if it has any strange properties.” Baby bat chimes in.

  “No!” Jason barked, his eyes flashing green. Dick instinctively took a step back. “Look I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to freak out.” 

  “Jay? Are you in danger or something.”

  “What no, I’m fine….I think '' Jason takes the knife out of his pocket and fiddles with it in his hands. “ Ok so um maybe the courting thing that ghost was talking about checks out.” 

  “I'm sorry what?”

  “Explain!” 

  “Ok so I may or may not have had a stalker for the past like 3 months, it just started with me feeling like I was being watched while on patrol,” Dick didn’t like where this was going. “ Then the pits started to react to whatever has been tailing me. It's hard to describe. It's like a buzzing underneath my skin. At the same time tho I felt weird? I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “ You never saw them?” 

  “No not really, sometimes I would glance down an ally and see green eyes or see them out of the corner of my vision” 

  “That does not explain how you got the knife.” The Damian hisses as Jason.

  “Yhea, Yeah I’m getting there. Then…”,Jason ran his thumb over the Handle of the knife “ … then they started leavening me gifts? At first I thought they were threats. It left flowers, candy, chocolates and a knife. I thought they were warnings, they all had something death related to them. But now, well now I just feel like an idiot.” 

  “ Ok let me get this straight, my baby brothers got a romantic ghost stalker?” 

  “That’s not even the weirdest bit, today I decided to finally try to interact with it, to be fair I was originally gonna fight the damn thing, but then it smiled and chirped. Like it was happy? And then it ran away.” 

  This was not happening, some meta, or even worse an actual ghost was going after Jay. And Jay had never seen them? But from what Jay just described they seemed so sweet and Jay was smiling. He was happy about it? Could he Seriously just let this be?

  “We should tell fath-“ dick cut Damian off.

  “No, we should wait to see what Jay wants to do first.” Dick let out a sigh. “ what you think jaylad should we get the big bat involved just yet.” 

  “ No, I'm going to try to talk to it, if boxy back there can , I bet ‘Phantom’ or whatever he called him can too.” 

  “ Ok I trust you, but I’m here if you need me Jay,” dick didn’t like the idea of his brother being tailed by something they didn’t know. But J seems so genuinely happy about it? Maybe he could let this play out. 

  He just hopes he doesn’t regret that decision. 

—————————————————

  “I’m such an idiot” Danny muffled into his pillow. After his talk with jazz he realized why the other guy had been so weary of his presence. He was laying face first on his bed not wanting to look his sister in the eye. 

  “We’ll mabey if you would have talked to me about it,” his sister said in a soft tone, “ I could have helped you dork.” His sister had every right to gloat, and ’I told you so’ even. But Jazz wasn’t like that instead she sat on his bed trying to comfort her brother. “ Look Danny, not all is lost right? You said he waved at you, maybe he’s realized you're not malicious”

  “ I left him chocolates shaped like head stones! He definitely thinks I’m threatening him,” Danny grumbles.

  “ I’m sorry what?”

  “I thought it would be funny. You know one dead guy to another!” 

  “ Oh Danny” 

  “Uuuuuuuuh” how the heck was he going to fix this. He went the ghost route in asking him out because he never had succeeded in the human route, and yet he had still screwed it up! He never even thought about the fact that the man couldn’t sense his emotion projections.  No wonder hood always seemed confused at the gifts. He had liked the knife though, right? He had it in him when he went out on patrol, that ment he liked it? Danny hoped so, he had made it himself with Pandora in the ghost zone. It took him weeks! 

  “ Look baby bro hear me out”, Danny turned his head to the side to look at jazz, his face still red with embarrassment. “Sense he knows about you for Shure now, why don’t you just ask him out? Not like on a date right away but just ask him if he wants to grab a coffee or something.” 

  “Jazz I went the ghost route because I’m terrible at that!” 

  “Yes but did you ever think maybe this other person prefers the human way and that’s why he hasn’t said anything?”

  “No”

  “Then it can’t hurt to try right?”, she patted Danny on his back. “ Besides, if you like him that much, well then I have your back.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes of course, a young man getting a crush is still very normal and nothing you have any reason to be ashamed of.” 

  “Jazzzzz”

  “Oh right sorry no ‘therapist voice’” she smiled at her brother, giving him a kiss on his forehead and taking her leave. “ I love you Danny, I’m here if you need me, for anything at all ok?”

  “I love you too Jazz, night,” she shut the door leaving Danny to sulk in his embarrassment. 

  Danny didn’t sleep much that night, not that he needed it. He knew one thing though Jazz was right. He really should talk to Red Hood like a person. 

  ————————————————-

Jason sat on the sofa of his safe house. He flipped the knife in his hand. Thinking about all the things that the creature (phantom apparently) had left him. Something in his chest shifted, a buzzing rang threw his body. But this one was different, it was soft and low. It wasn’t scary or strange but comforting. As he leaned back and drifted off to sleep, ‘like a cat’ , was the last thought that shifted through his mind as he dozed off.

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Jason is terrified. Some kind of Lazarus Pit demon crawled out of one and its been messing with him ever since. It liked to watch him on patrol, its glowing eyes peering through the darkness. He didn't know why the others never seemed to see it despite it being right there.

He thought about asking Duke to patrol with him but seeing as he's a daytime hero theres no way he's going to agree without an explanation.

Quite frankly he doesn't have one.

He came back to his apartment to find another 'gift', this time is was a bouquet of white lilies, commonly used in funerals and associated with mourning and death. Theres no way this wasn't a threat. All the 'gifts' he had been receiving were like this. The worst part is that Jason had no idea how the Pit Demon knew which safe house he would be going to each night.

On the other side of the city Phantom was celebrating. The guy he's had a massive crush on since he first landed in this dimension had finally acknowledged him! He waved back at him and Phantom was ecstatic! Danny knew Red Hood was a halfa like him, but seemed to refuse to use his ghost half. Maybe he was just afraid of it?

Whatever the reason it was unhealthy.

Aka: Jason is terrified of Danny and thinks he's out to kill him. Danny is actually just swooning over Jason and all the gifts are death related because of puns