#yet egotistical enough to know that i won’t fuck it up completely because i’m too generally good at presenting

[xoxo-teddybear]

Hey idk if I’ve asked for this before but can you do nsfw Bakugo x fem reader fic, where you do work studies with him. He’s obviously going to be a little older 3-6 years, and you two have know each other since you were kids and he’s always just been a little nicer to you and cared about you more than others, and when you are working with him you get hurt and he flips out. You’re really confused and your like “wtf why do you care this isn’t affecting your job” and he gets mad your not getting the hint that he cares about you in a “not friendly” way, he ends up tch’ing and just says frick it and confesses that he has feelings for you and you’re just like cool I reciprocate and he’s like “with”... it just gets frisky from there... Idk if this is like a thing you might be interested in writing about, but like it just an idea😃... Anyways I love your work please keep it up🥺(sorry for any grammatical errors I’m writing this at 2:30am)

What Took So Long? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugo x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!receiving, mutual pining, angst, injury, fluff, cursing, all the good stuff

BAKUGOU”S MASTERLIST

Summary: you and Katsuki have been close friends for forever, how long is it gonna take to realize both your love is mutual?

Growing up, you and Katsuki got along really well. You knew him before he got his quirk so you got to see his non-egotistical self. You saw the him that was kind and caring and he always looked out for you, always took care of you, always was there for you. In your eyes, you thought he thought it was in a big brother kinda way. Oh how that changed once you both became teenagers.

You both made it into UA, of course at different times, but you still kept in touch. You guys hung out like, everyday! It was always wake up, FaceTime, go to school, text throughout the day, and meet and go to either your house or his. It was like there was nobody else in the world except you two.

Throughout the years, you developed a small crush on the blonde boy. What went from a small crush turned into love. To you, it was unreciprocated love. He was 3 years older than you! He had to have seen you as a little sister. It only made sense! When you came to that terribly incorrect realization, you pushed back your feelings. What you had with Katsuki was special! You’re friendship meant the world to you. It didn’t matter if you wanted more, what you had was already perfect, there was no way it could’ve gotten better than this.

—

This. These moments. These memories being made with Katsuki kept you sane. As you both cuddled up and watched a trashy reality tv show in your room on your computer, you both threw popcorn at the screen at the cringe scenes.

“BoooooOOOOO!!” You both said as you threw a handful of the buttery snack. You both laughed at the moment as you settled down again. With you both laying on each other, your head on his, while his own rested on your shoulder, you were sure both of you would get neck pains the next day.

“So,” Katsuki started up a conversation, “how’s your third year at UA?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started. Classes got crazy hard outta nowhere. BUT, lucky for me, I have a UA graduate to help me out!” You said while nudging his arm.

“No way teddy bear, you’re finishing that on your own. As a graduate, that means I don’t gotta deal with that bullshit anymore.” He said as he popped some pieces of the snack into his mouth. With that, you pouted. Something he noticed and thought was insanely adorable. He poked your plump lips and told you, “hey, I’m helping you by letting you do your work study at my agency. You’re very welcome for that.”

“Helping? Suuukkiiii, you barely let me go out and fight. How am I supposed to get experience and actually do my work study if I don’t...you know..WORK?” You whined out. Katsuki had always been avoiding this topic. Yeah, he let you get your credits by going to his agency, but he never let you do any real hero work other than paperwork. Don’t get me wrong, you loved hanging out with him as much as you could, but it was beginning to get boring not doing anything at the agency.

“Y/N, no. You’re getting enough experience. Paper work is a big part in the life of a Pro,” he argued.

“Yeah, well saving people and actually getting out there in the field is a bigger part in the life of a pro.” You rebuttled as you flopped down next to him. You looked at him with puppy eyes and he knew what was coming.

“No.”

“Pleaseee Suki!”

“No.”

“Pleaseee!!”

“Nope.”

“Sukiiiiiii!!” You whined while tugging at his arm. He sighed before answering.

“One job, WITH ME, and that’s all you get.” He said while staring at you with a stern look. You smiled and jumped in the air.

“YESSSS!!”

—

So now here you are, on job number whatever. You weren’t sure how many you’ve actually been on because ever since your first job with Katsuki was a huge success, he let you join him more and more. You were almost like a partner to him now, fighting crime together. Except this time...things went a little south.

As the villain struck you down mid air with his quirk, you fell to the ground with a now burned arm. Katsuki saw red. No fucking way. No way in HELL is he going to let some shit faced freak bring harm to his teddy bear, his world, his best friend, and the love of his life. Yup. Katsuki Bakugou fell for his best friend. But could you blame him? You knew him better than anyone else, you guys got along so well, you were absolutely gorgeous and he was sure he’d give his life for you. 100%. So when this scum bag thought he could try and ruin you, he saw red. Blasting him a thousand times over and once he was sure he was out cold, battered, bloodied, and bruised he ran to check on you.

You were sitting on the ground holding your left arm where the burn mark was. Your costume was tattered and your head felt like it was gonna blow. Katsuki came along and didn’t really help with that all too much.

“YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!” He screamed. Oh, the throbbing your head had only increased with his booming voice.

“You see?! This is exactly why I hate bringing you along! You’re always gonna get hurt!” He said as he picked you up off the ground to help you stand.

“Of course I’m gonna get hurt Dynamight, my job as a hero includes a little beating every now and then for the sake and safety of others!” You replied, raising your voice as well.

“You’re NOT a hero Y/N!” He said as he reached out for your arm.

“Yet! Not yet at least! But I will be!” You replied while pulling away from him. His eyes were shaken and it was clear he was mad. You pushing his buttons didn’t help soothe his anger either.

“NO YOU WONT. Y/N ITS SO OBVIOUS YOU’D MAKE A SHIT HERO! YOU ALREADY GOT HURT ON SUCH A SIMPLE JOB, DO YOU HONESTLY THINK ANYBODY WOULD BE WILLING TO DEPEND ON YOU FOR THEIR SAFETY?!?!?” Bakugou heard the words he said and he thought he was doing the right thing. Granted, he knew the delivery was bad, but his message was in there. He didn’t want Y/N to be hurt. If she died on the battle field, Katsuki wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Y/N can’t be a hero, for her safety and his sanity. He loved her too much to have to watch her take beating after beating. However, Y/N took it in a completely different way.

“Are you trying to say I can’t be a good hero?!” You asked filled with anger and hurt.

“Y/N,”

“It’s H/N, Dynamight. That’s the name you’ll address me as for when we’re on the job. That’s the name you’ll have to get used to because I will be a hero!” You exclaimed.

“You can’t be a hero Y/N! You’re gonna get hurt! You always get hurt! You’d be more of a burden on a mission instead of an advantage! So just stop trying ‘Cuz you’re never gonna make it!” He screamed at you. Is this what he really thought of you. That you were weak and wouldn’t be able to do jack shit? As your eyes began to water, you walked away from him in silence.

“Y/N...where are you going?” He asked you as he followed.

“Recovery girl. She’ll heal me up and I’ll be perfectly fine.” You simply stated.

“At least let me help you,” Bakugou said as he tried to reach out to you, but you only stepped away from him again, which made his heart hurt a little.

“Don’t touch me, Bakugou. I’ll be fine on my own.” You said.

“Bakugou? Who the fuck are you talking to teddy bear?” He said as he got all up in your face. You only rolled your eyes and stepped to the side. You used your quirk to get into the air and travel faster. In the dust, you left behind a confused and hurt Katsuki.

“Uhh....Okay! See you later for movie night!” He yelled out as he watched you fly off. You’d still show up, right? Yeah, you’d show. You always spent everyday together after school and work so it only made sense...right?

—

Well he was wrong. Really wrong. It’s been a week since you last spoke to him, the longest it’s ever been, and he was starting to get into a depressing cycle. Wake up, call Y/N. No reply. Get ready, spam her. No reply. Go to work, text Y/N throughout the day. No reply. Get out of work, go home, shower, eat dinner, do whatever while stalking your social media, go to bed, spam a little more, call twice more, and still. No reply. He misses his teddy bear.

Y/N doesn’t even go to her work study anymore. She’s been doing everything she could to avoid Bakugou, and he’s noticed it all too well. He still gave her the credits, he wanted her to pass of course, but he was also tempted to stop doing that just so she could show up and see him. Thankfully he didn’t.

Now here lies Bakugou Katsuki, watching a movie by himself again, hoping his crush and best friend would show up. But again, like every other night for the past week, she hasn’t shown. The end credits roll in and Bakugou sighs as he looks down, thinking back to all he said.

‘Y/N ITS SO OBVIOUS YOU’D MAKE A SHIT HERO! ... DO YOU HONESTLY THINK ANYBODY WOULD BE WILLING TO DEPEND ON YOU FOR THEIR SAFETY?! ... you’re never gonna make it!’

Bakugou flopped down onto his bed.

“Great idea Katsuki, tell your dream girl she won’t ever reach her goals. That’ll win her heart,” he sarcastically said aloud as he cringed at his own thoughts. Bakugou just let a few tears fall, before rolling over and going to bed. He had patrol in the morning, maybe it’ll get his mind off of Y/N.

—

Orrrr maybe not. Because here he was, Pro-hero Dynamight, following around his 18 year old crush as she walked home after getting some coffee from their favorite cafe. Should he have been on patrol keeping the city safe? Yes. But was he going to take this chance to talk to Y/N to fix this shit? Yes.

Once Y/N made it to her doorstep she heard a voice behind her.

“Glad you made it home safe..Maybe we could pick up on that trashy reality show now that we’re both here,” Katsuki said while trying to joke around. Y/N only rolled her eyes at the hero and attempted to put her key into the lock. Katsuki was quick to react though. He snatched her keys out of her hand before speaking again.

“Y/N please! I can’t live like this! I can’t live without you in my life. You’ve been absent for a week and it’s been driving me insane!” He said while holding onto your wrist.

���Katsuki, give me back my keys.” You calmly said.

“Y/N, just hear me out.” He also calmly said.

“And listen to you say what Katsuki?! That I’ll never be a hero? That even if I was I’d be a terrible one? That I should just give up and stop trying?! Don’t worry, I already have. So now, let me go-“ Bakugou shut you up with a kiss. You were shocked and froze up. He kissed you with such passion and you melted into it, closing your eyes and letting him hold you as he pleased. He speperated from you before speaking again.

“You are not a terrible hero. Y/N you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anything, you’d be a better hero than me...but if you got hurt, I don’t know what I would do.” He said looking down. You turned your head in confusion at his small confession.

“Katsuki?..”

“When you got hurt that day, I was livid. I almost killed that guy, just for scorching your arm. There are so many worse things that could happen to you when you do become a pro and the fact that I freaked out so bad over a little burn is insane! I just want you to be safe. I can’t let you risk your life when I need you hear with me the most...... I can’t let the girl of my dreams get hurt.” He said while placing his forehead on yours.

“When I become a hero, I’d be taking on an oath to put others before my own. And that’s what I choose to do. I’m gonna get banged up from time to time and I understand you’re worried about me, but you have to trust me when I saw I’ll always come back to you. I love you Katsuki.” With that, Bakugou slowly moved in to give you another kiss. This time, you kissed him back, letting your hands travel to his soft, golden hair as he pressed you up against the door.

You heard him unlock your door during the kiss, and as he separated he spoke.

“Let me show you just how much I love you Y/N.” He pushed open the door and continued to make out with you. Kicking the door to close it, he pushed you up against the wall. There he picked you up, and groped your ass, earning a moan from you. With your mouth open, he slipped his tongue in, tasting all of you. He walked to your bedroom, kicking open the door this time, and shutting it the same way as before. He dropped you onto the bed as you both giggled in excitement. You noticed something though. He was still in hero gear.

“Shouldnt you be on patrol, Dynamight?” You asked as he came up to kiss your neck and you pulled him in closer.

“Dynamight has something better to do right now, Teddy Bear. And you know what?” He asked while putting his face right infront of yours.

“Tell me what, hero.”

“That’s the exact name I want you screaming.” He smirked. He tore off his top and mask before taking off your own. He then attacked your breast. He pulled off your bra before taking a second to admire your perfect curves. He squeezed a mound in one hand before taking in the other one with his mouth, biting at your nipple. Leaving hickies all over your chest, he was proud to see the purple marks that now adorn your upper body. He pulled down your pants and kissed your inner thighs. Right at the center was his treat. He pulled at your panties and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Hey!” You said after you noticed what he did.

“My little souvenir. Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll buy you more.” He kissed up on your legs and saw your arousal glistening. He licked his lips as his ruby eyes dialated. He was excited. He took an experimental lick as you moaned at the feeling and he savored the sweet taste. He could help himself, he dove right in for more. As his tongue lapped up against your clit, you moaned out in pleasure.

“Mm...yess Suki! Oh fuck right there..” you said as you pulled on his hair. He smacked your thigh, receiving a yelp from you.

“That’s not my name, princess~” he smirked against your pussy. He stuck his tongue in you and you cried out even more.

“F-Fuck! Dynamight, pleasee...more!” He squeezed your ass in approval as your legs began to shake. He knew what was coming and used his fingers to rub against your bud.

“Fuck..cum for me princess, cum in my mouth and let your hero taste you.” He said as your squirted in his face and Bakugou suck your clit, collecting all your sweet nectar.

“What a good girl,” he said as he came up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You ready for the main event?” He asked while giving you this cocky grin.

“Please..” you whined out.

“Please what, princess? You’re gonna need to be specific.” He knew what he was doing. He wanted you to beg. And you were going to do it.

“Mm..Please Dynamight! Please fuck me with your cock! Please fuck my pussy!” You begged. He smiled and smacked your ass.

“Good girl.” He said as he pulled down his hero slacks and stepped out of the material. Here he was, Pro-hero Dynamight and your now ex best friend completely stripped infront of you. His member hanging out with a hard erection and your eyes went wide at the length. He noticed this and tilted your chin up so your E/C diamonds could meet his eyes. “Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he kindly said.

“Doubt it,” you sarcastically replied.

“Then we’ll make it fit, Princess.” You bit your lip in excitement. He pumped his cock a few times before placing the tip at your entrance. He rubbed his tip up and down you slit as he spoke.

“I’ve wanted this for so long princess, and now I’m finally gonna make you mine.” He said before he slammed in as you both cried out in ecstasy.

“Oh-oh my god..” you whimpered. He peppered your face in kisses to distract you from the pain. Once you adjusted to his size, you begged him to move.

“Please..more.”

With your permission, he began to thrust in and out of your heat, with hard, slow strokes. Both of you moaning as the sensation. The way he filled you up completely was euphoric. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, moaning into it as he picked up his pace a little more. You could hear his grunts and soft moans as he sped up, enjoying the way your pussy held him tight.

“Mm...Harder, Dynamight...F-Faster..please!” You whined. Katsuki listened, and he listened well. His strokes went deeper, his speed increased, and he fucked you harder than ever as he went up to your ear.

“Yeah...you want it harder?...deeper?....Mm fuck, faster princess? You like it rough? You like how Dynamight fucks your tight little cunt?” He asked while you cried out in pure pleasure.

“Y-yesss. Oh my god yes Dynamight. Fuck me just like this...ahhh!” Bakugou grabbed onto your ass with both his hands as he pummeled into you. You gripped his hair and he moaned at the feeling. He sucked on one of your tits as he looked at you. God, you were gorgeous. The blush that covered your face, you mouth hanging open with a slight smile as moans fall from it, and your eyes looking up like you’ve been fucked stupid.

“Oh..I’m gonna cum! Please, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out.

“Not yet Teddy bear. Hold it,” he said as he gave your ass a hard smack and pulled out of you. You whined at the loss of his cock and looked at him with begging eyes.

“Turn around princess. I want you on all fours.” He simply said as he continued to pump his cock.” You moaned at the sight of it and smirked to yourself. He watched as you dragged your hand to your center and began playing with yourself.

“And if I don’t listen?” You smiled as you moaned at the way your fingers rubbed at your pussy. Bakugou grabbed your hand and got in your face before you could go any further.

“Then the brat who wants to cum so bad will cum for me 100 times over as her punishment.” He said as a threat but you only took it the best way possible.

“Sounds fun..Katsuki.” With that, he yanked your hand away from yourself and flipped you over before slamming back into you from behind and smacking your ass again and again.

“Ohh fuck...Ah...you think you’re funny, huh y-you brat? Let’s see how funny you are when I fuck you so dumb the only thing you’ll know is my name.” He said as he pounded into you. Your cried were muffled as you screamed into the mattress.

“Don’t do that, princess, I wanna hear your pretty cries,” he said as he yanked your hair, lifting your head up. He grabbed onto your neck and kissed you as you both loudly moaned into it. He squeezed your neck ever so lightly but tightly as he placed his forehead on yours to look down at where you both meet and become one. He sped up at the sight.

“I bet you love this. I bet you love having Dynamight’s cock deep inside you. Can you feel me? Huh? Feel me in your guts? Feel my big dick deep inside you?” He asked as he looked back at you.

“Y-Yesss! Oh f-fuck...ohhh so big!” Bakugou smiled at your comments and felt you squeeze around him.

“S-shit...you gonna cum? Gonna come on this big dick?” He asked as his hand traveled to you pussy, rubbing at your clit.

“Do it! Do it now, cum on my cock!” You squirted around his cock and Bakugou continued to fuck you through your orgasm and you cried out, and your upper body fell to the mattress. His hands grabbed at your waist as he pounded your pussy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and bit his bottom lip as he threw his head back moaning out.

“Fuck! Ohh f-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You want my cum princess? Can I fill your pussy with my cum?” He asked while looking down at you. You had little tears poking at the ends of your eyes due to the mass amount of pleasure and Bakugou came at the sight. His thrust stopped as his hips met your ass in a final push, while his cum went deeper into your pussy, filling you to the brim. You both cried out as he finished and he kept himself in there for a little until you both caught your breath. He kissed up your spine to your cheek as he pulled out and layed down next to you.

As he pulled you closer to him he could hear your soft voice.

“A-amazing...Suki.” You said as you nuzzled into his neck. He only smiled as he realized you forgot.

“I hope so, cuz we’re not done teddy bear.” He said while smirking. Your eyes went wide as you looked at him in shock.

“Your punishment. Remember? I want you cumming on my cock a 100 times over. I don’t even want you to be able to walk for the next week.” He said while looking you right in his eyes. You took on his little challenge and straddled his waist before pumping his cock a few times and hovering over it. He watched the whole thing and licked his lips at you.

“Fine then Dynamight,” you said as his hands traveled to your hips. “Show me what you got,” you said as you slammed back down on him releasing cries from both you and him. This was gonna be a fun, long night.

—

After rounds 2, 3, 4, and 5, you both lie on your bed completely fucked out as you held onto each other. Bakugou was contempt as he held you under his chin and thought you were asleep. You were only resting your eyes with a soft smile on your face. Bakugou kissed the top of your head before softly speaking.

“I’m so sorry for everything I said teddy bear. You are the most amazing person in the world. I just don’t want you to be hurt. I wanna protect you for the rest of my life. I love you with my everything and I really want you to officially be mine. When you wake up, I’m gonna tell you all of this.” Bakugou sighed. Now it was your turn to speak.

“You don’t have to wait Suki,” you softly spoke as Bakugou looked down at you in shock. “I already heard it all, and I want to officially be yours too.” You said while looking right at him.

“Heh..I thought you passed out,” he teased.

“Well then I guess you’re not as good as you thought, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“You tryna say I didn’t fuck you good enough princess?! Cuz I still got enough for one more round that’ll be sure to shut your mouth real quick!” You only laughed at his little outburst.

“I’m good Suki. Trust me, you did more than enough.” You said.

“You’re damn right. And by the way you were screaming my name, I’m sure of it.” He proudly stated.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes and softly spoke. You both gently laughed at the teasing and embraced each other once more, but this time a little tighter.

After a few peaceful moments of silence, you heard him speak up.

“So..you’re being serious about really wanting to be mine..right?” Bakugou asked with worry laced in his voice.

“Of course I’m serious Suki. I don’t wanna be anybody else’s but yours.” You said in the cutest voice. Bakugou blushed at the confession.

“Ok then teddy bear. You’re mine now, and I’m never gonna let you go again.” He whispered. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Suki.”

—

“WHERE WERE YOU?!?? A BANK WAS ROBBED, MULTIPLE PEOPLE WERE MUGGED, AND 2 VILLAIN BRAWLS BROKE OUT ON YOUR PATROL MAN!! ARE YOU GOOD?!?” Red riot screamed into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m great actually, a lot of good stuff happened on my patrol.” Bakugou said as he drank from his glass of water.

“Dude. Seriously?” The red head said in disbelief. What could possibly make up for all the crimes committed on his best friend’s watch?!

“Seriously. Gotta go, talk to you later shitty hair.” Katsuki said as he hung up the phone. As he finished cooking, he brought two plates of food to the couch for Y/N and himself. He had to carry Y/N there.

“What was all that about?” Y/N asked as she took a sip from her cup and turning away from the trashy reality show you both were watching.

“Just another reason why you’d make a better hero than me, teddy bear.” You awed at the compliment and cuddled into him. If only you knew how serious he was being.

Kirishima would know. For he was the one running around like a mad man trying to stop all the crimes committed due to his best friend being absent thanks to his horny desires.

A/N: YAYYY MY FIRST REQUEST! I really enjoyed writing this one and I’m sorry if it wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. I’m hope you enjoyed it tho! Feel free to drop more request for me to do!💗🧸

P.S. New series coming on the way!

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[kozozaki]

The Blame - Ranboo x Reader Chapter 3

Y/n ended up falling asleep at Tommy's house from a combination of stress and just plain tiredness. She yawned quietly and started climbing the ladder, walking towards L'manburg. She got to the top of the staircase before stopping abruptly. 

"What the hell?!" She ran towards the now walled-in country, running her hand against the rocky obsidian. She could hear the angry and confused voices of Tubbo and Big Q on the other side. "Guys?" Y/n yelled to get their attention.

"Y/n?" Tubbo said from behind the wall

“Tubbo, what is this wall? Why is this here?”

“That’s exactly what I want to know!”

Y/n dug a small hole in the wall. “I haven’t seen you in a while so I came to L’manburg, but this isn’t what I was expecting…” she looked through the window of the camarvan to see Quackity yelling at Tommy. Her eyes narrowed, she knew why the walls were there, and she knew who put the walls up too.

“Y/n, let’s get inside the van, Fundy will be here soon,” Tubbo said. She nodded but didn’t go into the van yet.

“Y/n, do you know what happened to my house?” George was there. She froze.

“Something happened to your house?” She played dumb.

“Yeah, it was burnt and robbed. Dream said it was Tommy.” Of course Dream said it was Tommy. He wasn’t wrong per-se, but Dream was always out to get Tommy in one way or another, and it pissed Y/n off.

“Is that why there are walls around L’manburg?” George nodded. She looked at the town center, more specifically Ranboo. He didn't have his sunglasses on. His eyes were heterochromatic, one green, and one red. They looked really pretty. 

Ranboo gave Y/n a worried look, basically asking if she was okay. She nodded and waved. He waved back, still looking concerned. Tommy, Quackity, Tubbo, and Fundy exited the camarvan. “Let’s go speak to Dream,” Tubbo suggested. No one answered, but everyone followed.

“What are you doing here, Y/n?” Tommy asked.

“Tommy, I can’t go one day without waking up and being pissed at my brother,” she admitted. They were far enough behind the others now that they wouldn’t hear, “Tommy, they have no idea Ranboo and I were involved, they’ve tunnel-visioned on you. I would take the blame from you, but they wouldn’t care, they would just punish us both. If Ranboo gets blamed, I’m gonna take the heat for him.”

“But Y/n-”

“No, Tommy, I’m gonna take the criticism for him, and that’s final, no objections. His life is probably worth 3 times as much as mine, so it’ll be more beneficial.”

“I won’t argue with you, but I will argue that your life is equal to or higher than everyone’s, at least agree to that,” Tommy hated when she put herself down like that.

“I would be lying if I said I agree with you,” she said in a monotone voice.

“Tch. Look, it’s the green bastard.”

“Dream. Why did you build these walls around L’manburg?” Tubbo asked. Ghostbur was saying the other day how everyone seemed to prefer him dead than alive, but if Y/n were being honest, even in Wilbur’s slightly psychotic state, she would have preferred him as the president.

“Just as an incentive,” Dream looked at Y/n. She longed to rip that patronizing smile off his face. He knew she helped, but he was waiting to see if she would throw herself under the bus to save Ranboo. He knew her more than she knew herself, “If Tommy doesn’t get punished for griefing George’s house soon, the walls will expand.”

Tubbo thought it over for a moment, “Let’s go to the courthouse.”

Once the group arrived, Tommy was put in a holding cell. Quackity was speaking to him. Y/n was sat next to Ranboo, they were both on edge. “Tommy, I’m on your side, but I have to be unbiased as possible. George, if you would like to explain what happened.”

“I’m just walking around the SMP and was told by someone who asked to remain anonymous that my home was burnt down, and I thought they were joking. So I asked them who did it, and the names I was given were Tommy, but there were two more. Y/n and Ranboo.” A series of gasps rang throughout the other members in the courthouse. Y/n immediately looked to the ground. She couldn’t defend Ranboo if they were both being sussed.

“Ranboo, Y/n, I’m gonna have to ask you to step into this cell here,” Tubbo ushered the two into the compact cell.

Y/n looked down at the lava. She whispered, “Anonymous my ass, it’s obviously Dream.”

“It probably is, but they aren’t completely sure we did it. As much as I hate saying it, they already know Tommy did it, nothing is gonna change their minds. We have to stay as innocent-looking as we can,” he definitely wasn’t lying, the two needed to stay as indifferent as they could.

“Tubbo please, listen to me, I have 4 witnesses, Captain Puffy, Nihachu, Ranboo, and Y/n, I was with them last night. Isn’t that right, Niki?” This idiot, it doesn’t help when two of his witnesses are prime suspects.

“I didn’t see Y/n,” Niki says. She was right, Y/n wasn’t there, but for reasons unrelated to the robbing.

“I, I felt really nauseous, so I was at Tommy’s house while Ranboo and him were helping you guys.”

“Right, Ranboo, shed some light on the situation please.” Tubbo’s monotone voice was intimidating Y/n a bit, he had always been the more cheery person in every group.

“Okay, umm, just be aware that I do have extremely bad short term memory loss.” Several people started talking at once but Y/n could only make out what Tubbo was saying.

“Okay, right, Tommy, the fact that he is struggling to remember is making your situation worse.” Fundy looked at Tubbo for approval to flick a lever, Y/n and Ranboo watched in horror as he pulled it down. “Tommy you have two strikes left, I need to hear your side and I need you to not yell.”

“It was the perfect crime.”

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled, surging forward slightly. Ranboo placed a hand on her shoulder, and she instantly relaxed, walking to the corner of the box-shaped room, sliding down the wall and resting her arms on her knees while Ranboo sat down carefully next to her. She was shocked, she didn’t think he would admit to it.

Fundy started recording everything Tommy said after that. “But hear me out Tubbo, he’s being biased against me, and Dream retaliating by building huge obsidian walls is absurd.”

“Tommy I have been advised to banish you,” Fundy flicked yet another lever, “But that is a very extreme measure and I hope it doesn’t have to come to that. So you’ll be put on probation. George, Tommy will be stripped of his power, and everything he does he will have to report directly to Fundy. Tommy as of now you are on probation, for the next two weeks.”

“Tubbo, this is insane!”

“It may be insane but I’m hoping this is conclusion is satisfying enough to get the walls tore down.”

“Well why are the walls even there in the first place? He can’t just build walls because I, me and- by myself I did a little prank,” Y/n looked up, her eyes strained. She turned to Ranboo relieved, Tommy didn’t slip up, he nearly did though. Ranboo must’ve put his sunglasses back on while she wasn’t looking.

“George is the king of the SMP, Tommy, this is considered treason,” Tubbo looked at Fundy and he nodded. Fundy put his hand on the last lever and pulled.

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled again, this time from anxiety. She knew very well what was under that glass, and so did Fundy, “Fundy why would you do that?!”

“Just felt like it.” he said in a snarky tone.

“How is he alive?” George asked. All Y/n saw was Quackity fall into the pit with Tommy and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Y/n don’t fucking laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, Big Q, from where I am right now, it was hilarious,” she looked over to see Ranboo laughing, his laugh sounded really nice. 

Quackity exited the box and Tommy followed, leaving the courthouse yelling, “Fuck you!”

“Mr. President, what are we do with Ranboo and Y/n?” Karl said.

Tommy came back immediately to say “No, no, listen, listen Tubbo, they weren’t there it was just me.”

“Those two weren’t there?”

“It was just me.”

Y/n and Ranboo were let out of the cell. Y/n let out a sign of gratitude, people were mistaken when they said Tommy was egotistical.

While walking back to L’manburg Tommy and Tubbo were arguing, and it broke Y/n’s heart, they were the best of friends before Tubbo became president. Maybe Techno was right, the government does corrupt. A cabient meeting was called in the middle of the walk to L’manburg. Tubbo called her over and she separated from Ranboo and Niki and joined Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy.

Y/n spaced out, staring at the ground until Dream showed up. “Tubbo. Probation isn’t enough.”

“Dream I know you suggested exile but-”

“That’s not enough! Tommy is Tommy, he’s never gonna stop, his goal is to piss me off, and if you want that, as somebody in your nation, even if he doesn’t have power, there aren’t that many members of L’manberg. And it’s fine, you guys wanna think about it, it’s fine. We can arrange a meeting to talk about what to do with him. Set a time, set a day, I’ll come.”

“Okay, how about the second, the second of December?”

Everyone agrees but Y/n stays silent. “Y/n?” Quackity asks.

“I’m sorry, being around my Dream is screwing with my head, I need to go.” Dream grabbed her wrist.

“Y/n, please.”

“No! I’m not gonna stay around to just to hear you manipulate Tubbo into doing what you want and me not being able to do anything, as per usual!”

She walked back to where Ranboo was, he immediately put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He glared at Dream, glad he was wearing glasses. “What happened Y/n?”

“My brother is extremely manipulative, just being around him confuses me. I can never tell if he agrees with me or is on my side or not. TLDR; Dream’s a piece of shit.”

Ranboo hummed in agreement. “You should probably go home, it’s getting dark, and you shouldn’t be around all this government stuff, you’ll get too stressed. Would you mind if I visited you tomorrow?”

“I’d like some company. It’s pretty lonely out there, Tubbo doesn’t come around often, he’ll probably show up even less with all this political bullshit.” He was slightly startled by the girls aggressiveness, but it was justified, and wasn’t directed towards him.

He walked her to the nether portal where they said their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow, loser,” she joked. Ranboo gasped dramatically, “Yeah, you heard right, loser.”

“You’re mean.”

“No no no, I’m sorry Ranboo it was joke!” She engulfed him in a hug. He was surprised, they had become kind of close but he was scared to assume she was comfortable with hugs. But when she did it, he was relieved.

“Bye, shorty,” He patted her on the head. She gave him the middle finger and stepped into the nether.

“Later, giraffe.”

-------------

Lmao I’m sorry for anyone who is over 5’5 I’m just salty I’m only 5’2

#ranboo #ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader

[wehatejulietsimms]

A/N: i'm gonna respond to this in sections bc it's quite long so bare with me.

Howdy y’all, 🤠 again. Yes, I didn’t in fact die. I’m sorry though that I kept getting sidetracked and couldn’t submit this until now, my boss decided to keep dumping her work into my lap. So I just wanna preface this by stating that I’m going to try and say what I want to as coherent as possible, but I have pretty severe ADHD so I’m not always as easy to understand as I think I am in my head, and I often go off on tangents, over explain things and circle back to topics randomly without realizing. Im basically going to go over their relationship over the years as I said previously (I’m not gonna go into detail about every single scandal and shitty thing Juliet did over the years, because we’d be here all year. so I figure I won’t cover them here, but rather let people ask specific questions if they want to. Remember, I was present for pretty much everything so feel free to ask.😊), but I’m also going to do kind of a mini deep dive into Andy’s behavior and actions (because although the snakes will hit you with every excuse in the book, and tell you that you’re looking too far into things and that it doesn’t matter, it does. The way a person acts in general and towards people around them is very relevant when talking about someone’s health, happiness, and well-being.) To start off, let’s take it all the way back to the time before Juliet’s reign of terror, when Andy and Scout were still together. In all honesty from what I saw of them together (and I saw pretty much everything they posted, I’m only a year younger than Andy, and I was quite into him when he was on MySpace and such, and I always watched anything with him and Scout together because they were fucking adorable lol) they had a really healthy relationship. Not once did I get weird vibes from them. The way Andy acted toward and with Scout, you could tell they really loved each other and were happy together. They had nothing to prove. It just was normal. (For any of you who are younger, or didn’t come into the picture until Andy was already post-scout and would like to see some videos of them together, you could generally search on YouTube for it, but also there’s a specific channel on there called like bring the milk tea or something that has videos of old Andy blogs and also Andy and scout on stickam and such. Worth a look if you’re curious) They weren’t constantly all over each other like possessive pack dogs *ahem Juliet ahem* and whenever Andy mentioned scout he didn’t need to shower her in compliments. They both seemed very secure in both themselves and the relationship. Super cute. Initially when they broke up it seemed quite odd. I didn’t really expect it. It got even weirder when he states that he and Juliet are together. It didn’t feel like they fit together at all (and no I’m not talking about from a fame or success perspective. At least not yet lol) As I’ve said I got bad vibes from Juliet right from the get go. Andy already seemed to be acting not like himself. (Also snakeys have argued that it’s just that he’s more mature now and that’s why he acts nervous and constantly looks Ike he wants to die. 🙄 maturity doesn’t mean losing your fucking personality and being unhappy most of the time. Jesus Christ.) it seemed like they got possessive of each other and constantly needed to show people how in love they were. Pictures, videos, and fucking public love paragraphs to show they are, in fact, in a super real relationship and they love each other. It also felt like Andy’s family was in on this whole weird charade.They (Chris honestly) started to defend her degenerate behavior and attack anyone who had even a whisper of negative things to say about her or their relationship. It was like watching a group of awkward, pretty mediocre actors put on a play about them being together. (I’ve hit the text limit now, but there will be more that I will write just after I submit this one though, fear not haha. N, you can either post this now or wait until I submit the rest, it’s up to you.) 1 / ? -🤠

A/N: i was here for a lot of it as well so i do remember some of this. although i did join the fandom shortly after him and juliet got together (i joined like around the time she was on the voice) i literally remember hoping that him and scout would get back together bc juliet just rubbed me the wrong way and i didn't know why at the time. & side note i actually do recommend people go look at old videos of andy and scout they were really adorable. there is this one video of them singing (i think a carrie underwood song lol) in the car and it's really cute. but yeah just bc he's older doesn't mean his whole entire personality changes. you can be any age and act however you want. i could even use jenna marbles & julien solomita (a youtube couple) as an example, they've been together for i think like 8 or 9 years and are about the same age as A&J (julien being around andy's age & jenna around juliet's age) & although they can have mature adult conversations and all of that, they still act like idiots and joke around together. neither of them look uncomfortable or are afraid of saying certain things like andy is around juliet. so andy aging doesn't mean shit in regards to his personality doing a 180.

🤠okay, so part two here we go. (Also I apologize if I get the chronological order of anything I talk about incorrect, I’m a bit scattered sometimes and the next ask I make will be the one where I talk about the domestic abuse and I tend to get quite heated, which only makes my brain function worse lol) so the point at which Andy was trying to get fans to go vote for/ support Juliet when she was on the voice seemed really fishy. I’m all for supporting the work of the people you love, but it’s kinda strange how hard Andy was pushing this at the time. Too hard in my opinion. I’m obviously aware that it was helpful in the end and he more or less got what he was asking for. But it was like he absolutely needed people to vote for her. As if he would get in trouble if they didn’t. So around 2012 or 2013 it felt like things really went down the shitter from there and just got progressively worse. (I never knew why for the longest time, but after they revealed that Vegas wedding that happened in about that time frame, it made a lot of sense.) Andy’s behavior began to change towards his fans. There are a lot of accounts of this happening from fans themselves and a lot of people said that 1. It was worse with Juliet around, and 2. a lot of the time it would happen towards females especially. ( I think more towards the “pretty” fans but don’t count me on that, I don’t know for sure.) This was completely night and day. Especially coming from the same man who used to always defend his fans and once stated something along the lines of he would never have a crazy or awkward fan story because he loves and is grateful for all of his fans and he won’t get upset if they’re just really excited. I would understand if these fans crossed the line in some way (like the later incident of fans finding his address and harassing them, which is unacceptable no matter who the people are) but from most if not all of the fan stories I’ve heard, they didn’t. They were being respectful and didn’t do anything to warrant this happening to them besides showing up. Which brings me to my next point, a lot of these negative experiences were caused by Juliet. Either she was the one being mean to people, she was causing Andy to be mean to people on her behalf, or her presence was upsetting Andy to the point that he was angry and started being rude and irritable. What scares me the most are the accounts of Andy having a whole Jekyll and Hyde thing, depending on weather or not Juliet was present. Happy when he’s free of her and miserable when he isn’t. In videos of him where Juliet is behind the camera he always seems nervous and strange. Like he’s afraid to mess up. That’s fucking alarming to say the least. You would think that the last thing one would want to do if another person brings them this much anger, stress, and anxiety, the LAST thing they would want to do is fucking marry them. Right? He literally started barely smiling at one point and really doesn’t anymore. I mean for Christ’s sake look at his wedding photos. What’s suppose to be one of the happiest moments of your life and to quote another anon with a different ask, he looks like he’s being dragged to the gallows. (And I get really fucking Angry honestly when snakeys tries to pass it off as “oh he’s awkward he doesn’t know how to smile” or “omg he’s being dramatic for the aesthetics” in some pictures, yes. But why the fuck would you look like that in pictures with the “love of your life” who you now regularly write cringy paragraphs publicly professing your love and complete adoration for? Andy knows how to smile genuinely. Ffs he used to. He smiled genuinely when he was a kid, he smiled genuinely with scout, and he smiled genuinely when Juliet wasn’t around. He doesn’t smile when she is there, and if he does, it is pretty much always visibly fake.) So I may backtrack a little later, but right now I want to talk about the fact that Juliet IS an abuser. More specifically, the plane incident. (Word limit. TBC.) 2 / ? -🤠

A/N: yes. 100%. when it comes to the wedding photos i will never understand people (specifically snakeys) writing off his behavior as him "just being dramatic for the aesthetics". is that something he would do in photoshoots? yeah. is it something he may do on stage? sure. something he would do in an interview? maybe. but candid shots of him on one of the "happiest days of his life"? wtf no. & idk why people think that.

🤠 Just before I start, again, with the pictures, I really don’t think that Andy is enough of a self absorbed egotistical dick that he would actually sit there and put on the whole “miserable tough guy” act in every fucking photo he takes. Ah yes, the infamous plane incident. So straight up, Juliet exposed herself as an abuser, and brought out every bullshit excuse in the book (and made Andy go along with them) to try to cover it up. 1. She was drunk. Honestly this is total bullshit. I say this same thing when people defend cheating or any other degenerate behavior with the excuse of intoxication and I will say it now. Being drunk does not make you a different fucking person. It does not change the thoughts in your head. What it does do is impair your ability to make decisions and judgement skills in general. It’s the same reason why people drive drunk. It’s routine. Its what they would normally do. And because they’re drunk, they can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t do that. Juliet gets drunk, she and Andy fight, she wants to hit him, and because she’s drunk she doesn’t think that she shouldn’t fucking put her hands on him. 2. She hit him in “self defense” and he broke her ribs.(There’s several points I have debunking this) first of all let’s get this out of the way, no one on that plane (including the very real witness who just so happened to be an adult film actress (I think?) who you so love to discount because of it) saw him strike her or even touch her at any time. Two, you are in fucking airplane seats sitting right the fuck next to each other with an armrest in between. It would be pretty fucking hard to break your ribs unless they were made of actual glass, or Andy’s real name is Bruce fucking banner. Bones are surprisingly strong and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it’d be damn near impossible for him to do that to you, which brings me to three, if he had broken your ribs you would not be fucking standing up, thrashing around, whining like a little bitch, and oh by the way, continuing to abuse your husband for the second time on that flight. Four, you had a miscarriage. (When I was trying to conceive with my husband it was very difficult. I had two miscarriages before I finally had my son. I’m fully aware of how devastating having one is.) which is why if you are not lying (which I fully believe that Juliet would stoop that low just to get sympathy, especially with this big of a scandal. But I don’t actually have proof of this so I will say that it is just speculation on my part) I don’t fucking care. I am not unsympathetic to her if this did actually happen as I said, however, You do not get to make any excuse for putting your hands on another person out of anger. Ever. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what kind of stress you are under, I don’t care if you are inebriated in any way and I sure as hell don’t care what the fuck you have between your legs. You do not hurt anyone. Point blank period. Five. You are a woman, you can’t hurt him. This one, actually enrages me. We all know your crusty ass pulled this one out (and threw around trump supporters a few times for good measure) because you know damn well how society and the media views and deals with abusive women. Women can abuse. Women who are shorter or weaker than their target can abuse. The fact that there are people who either don’t know that or don’t agree with that is absolutely baffling. Six. The same (I believe) porn actress. Literally saw you beating your own face with the restraints you had to be put in (which by the way flight attendants only ever use restraints as an absolute last resort when someone becomes a danger to the others on board, so she had to be acting absolutely deranged) to give yourself a bloody nose to claim Andy hit you. Then you proceed to act like a child and tell Andy to call your fucking dad. (Which kinda proves that whole Scientology thing honestly) what in the hell. I stg as long as I am breathing I will never let this go. This is actual fucking domestic abuse. (Word limit TBC.) 3 / ? -🤠

A/N: yeah her hitting him "bc she was drunk" was never a good excuse not only for the reasons you mentioned but, also bc let's be real at no point are you ever going to get served enough alcohol on a plane to make you that drunk i don't care what anyone says. also when it comes to the excuse of him "breaking her ribs" does she forget that andy actually did break his ribs a while ago? i think she even visited him when he was recovering so she should know what kind of pain he was in. & if he actually broke her ribs, there's no way she would have even been able to stand bc i know andy sure wasn't able to. he said it was one of the most painful things he's experienced. (i don't think i need to comment on the rest of this. it would just be redundant. you hit the nail on the head with that.)

🤠 I don’t care if it happened just that one time ore more likely is an everyday occurrence. Abuse is abuse and should never be tolerated. Kind of getting away from the plane thing. Andy always seems, as it’s been said on here before, afraid to mess up. Like he might mess up, and make her mad. A common behavioral pattern in abuse victims. He also at this point and for a decent amount of time before, doesn’t seem like he loves her anymore. Like he keeps up appearances and pretends, but it’s like it’s a job he’s forced to do. He’s tired and burnt out but was probably manipulated into staying and juliet is probably clinging for dear life. Also I don’t know if I’m the only one who thinks this, but I swear, the veganism and sobering up was just a cover up, most likely formed by either Juliet herself or her fucked up family, after the plane incident to hide their tracks and regain some public favor (because you know, if you advocate for animal rights then you can’t abuse your husband 🙃) Andy never gave a shit before though. Even though it was unhealthy he loved to drink and smoke and was very outspoken about that. And he used to never give a fuck about eating meat or consuming animal products like leather. I mean they’re still selling leather goods ffs. I would get having minor fuck ups because you don’t know any better, but it’s fucking leather. And now Andy is unhealthy and miserable as ever, but the culprit is malnourishment and Juliet rather than cigs, alcohol, and Juliet. My final thoughts: I do definitely believe in the Scientology theory, but if not that than I definitely believe that Andy was and is being manipulated for his fame. On several occasions it really looked like they broke up, including the time when they did, and then said it was a joke. It really doesn’t feel normal. Also, Juliet doesn’t really care about Andy that much. She never wears her wedding ring, she sells all their shit, including sentimental items, and now that she’s gained more popularity from being with him, suddenly doesn’t want to put him in her bio or write him the same creepy ass paragraphs or anything. It’s fucked up how shes so keen to say she did it all herself when really she’s been riding dick for fame since before she even met Andy. It also always kinda seemed to me that Amy was kind of uncomfortable around Juliet. We all know that Chris loves to kiss her ass night and day (most likely to do with the Scientology thing “if” it’s true), but Juliet and Amy always seemed to have a weird relationship like it was tense and forced. Also I just want to mention the time that Juliet talked about screaming at the woman over what I believe was a game night and brushed it off as being competitive and no one gave damn. Fucked up. To finish off this already way too long little series, I think Andy is a very vulnerable insecure person who got manipulated by several people (not just Juliet) some of whom he probably really trusted, and they helped to get him in Juliet’s (equally if not more insecure) hands so she could hurt him as she pleases. I truly hope that even now both he, and his parents (even though Chris really grinds my gears) can get out of this whole shit show, relatively unscathed. I know this is probably pretty unlikely, but hope springs eternal I guess. As I said feel free to ask any questions you may have and I will try to answer them best I can. Thank you for reading. 4 / 4 -🤠

A/N: yet again you hit the nail on the head with this part so i don't need to comment too much. other than the fact that i do agree that juliet and amy's relationship does seem weird.

#submission #anonymous

[kyber-crystal]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~1.7k

Summary: In which the Captain gets a little too overprotective, but you end up interpreting his words the wrong way and taking it a little too personally. 

Warnings: slight mentions of violence, angry steve, soft steve

A/N: this was so bad omg I’m so sorry.

The flight back after a mission was always quiet, whether everything had gone well or not. The team was both physically and mentally drained, falling into a comfortable silence as the Quinjet propelled itself through the sky. This mission in particular had taken a toll on all of you.

You were seated in the far corner of the jet as you glanced over at the screen of the flight details, thigh bandaged and throbbing mildly.  While you were able to extract the intel you needed, you'd thrown yourself into the crossfire to do so, being gunned down by a sniper from above. You were lucky enough for it to be just a simple graze, but Steve was treating it as if it was the end of the world.

Of course, you kind of understood where he was coming from. Despite the fact that you had over ten years of experience in the field, you were the youngest member of the team besides Pietro and Wanda, being only two years behind Steve himself. But that didn't stop you from feeling annoyed every time he seemed to act a little too overprotective no matter how many times you claimed you could take care of yourself.

"He's just worried for your safety," Natasha tried to explain when you complained about this one night. "You know how Cap is. A let's-get-down-to-business and always-follow-the-rules type of guy. I wouldn't overthink it if I were you."

You still couldn't help but think that he was overreacting a majority of the time, however. And in this one case in which he'd caught your side comment, it had erupted into a full-on argument.

"The least you could've done was call for backup," he said through gritted teeth. "You went against orders and tried to handle things on your own, and look where that got you."

"Excuse me?" You rolled your eyes. Whenever he made jabs at your decisions like this it made your blood boil with a furious anger; wanting nothing more than to explode at him. "I was successful in doing my job, was I not? And it's not like there were any better options presented to me at that moment."

"That doesn't matter. You could've gotten yourself killed!" he shouted, jaw tensed and arms crossed over his chest as you stared each other down. "How could you have been so stupid, putting your life on the line like that?"

"Stupid?" you scoffed, seething with anger at this point. "If I recall, I was the one who got the intel from the controls room and shut the system down!"

"And you got shot as you were leaving because you didn't keep a good enough lookout of your surroundings. You put the entire team into jeopardy," he told you matter-of-factly. The words stung, but you did your best to remain calm despite being unable to believe he had the nerve to say something like that. "You almost ruined this mission."

The team sat in stunned silence as they watched the screaming match unfold between you two.

"I'm sorry, but you know what, Rogers?" you spat, voice now raised several notches, "Maybe I'm sorry for pissing you off, but there's no way I'm gonna keep putting up with you constantly criticizing me for every little thing I do. We all make mistakes, so I don't get why I'm the only one who gets shit on for making a slip up every. Single. Damn. Time! I'm sick of you ordering me around like you're my boss, because you aren't."

"I'm trying to do what's best for both of us!" Steve yelled. "You just can't seem to get that through your head, can you?"

"Don't need to act like such an asshole about it."

"You know, I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness? Because one of those things is going to be the death of you someday," he shot back, his harsh words feeling like a spear being thrust through your chest. "And I won't take any credit for it, because it'll be all on you."

You refused to look away, even as your lower lip trembled and your shoulders shook, unwilling to back down. Your lashes brimmed heavy with tears, hands clenched into shaking fists in a desperate last bid to keep it together.

"Okay, cut it out," Tony finally interrupted, Wanda pulling you away from Steve as the murderous look in your eyes told her you were ready to throw hands. "You need to stop bickering like a married couple all the time."

"Tell that to the self-righteous egotistical man who thinks he's always in charge," you muttered.

"To the ignorant woman who's always throwing herself into the crossfire without considering how it might affect the overall completion of the mission," Steve shot back.

"You little—"

"Y/N," Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, "stop. It's not worth arguing over."

You winced as she helped you sit down, the pain from your wound beginning to catch up to you after standing on your injured leg for too long.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence, with you and Steve refusing to look in each others' direction entirely.

...

As soon as the jet touched down back at HQs, you quickly changed and went straight to the gym. After wrapping protective tape around your palms, you went up to one of the punching bags and began attacking the hell out of it, imagining it as Steve's face making it easier and seeming to further fuel your anger.

You went at this for an hour, pushing yourself to the max, refusing to give your screaming and aching limbs a break. Your muscles contracted and your arms and legs felt like they'd fall off at any minute but you continued going nonetheless, the aching pains that feeling like a million tiny needles stabbing at every inch of your body. Training was probably the worst thing to do for your leg, but the bullet wound was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness? Because one of those things is going to be the death of you someday.

You put the entire team into jeopardy.

You almost ruined this mission.

You punched the bag harder, feeling your knuckles cracking and blood running down your fingers, fresh bruises beginning to form underneath. Steve had never been this harsh towards you before, and you started wondering if he really was right about the fact that you almost ruined everything.

Yet you still didn't understand why he had to be so overprotective all the time.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't be training, or else that leg won't recover."

At the sound of his voice all his words came flooding back. Your heart began racing and your blood boiled as you stopped what you were doing and looked up at him.

"Leave me the hell alone."

Steve ignored your words and took several steps forward, stopping just a few feet away from where you stood.

"You're bleeding," he said in a surprisingly soft voice.

"I'm fine," you snapped. "Now go away."

"Come on, just—" he pleaded, voice sounding broken, "just let me bandage your hands up for you."

Knowing he wasn't going to leave, you slid down against the wall and let out a defeated sigh, allowing him to kneel in front of you and take your hands in his. The feeling of his rough, callused skin against yours despite the frustration coursing through your veins still sent a little spark up your fingers, and you never hated yourself more for it than you did now.

You briefly scanned over his features, taking note of his tired and red eyes and the crease between his eyebrows as he carefully disinfected your wounds.

"Y/N," he finally spoke up after several minutes of silence, as he finished bandaging up your hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

"Okay." You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing you would break down the second you looked back up into his bright blue eyes.

"Y/N," his voice broke, the sound making your heart twist in your chest. "Please look at me, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart," you muttered. "I'm so sorry," he repeated again, "I don't think you're stupid and that you jeopardized the team. You saved us all, in fact. I really shouldn't have said any of that to begin with."

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the salty tears roll down your cheeks and into your mouth, and you choked on a sob as you finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, breaking down.

"Then why did you act the way you did?"

"It was wrong of me," he exhaled, "I...look, I'm just worried about you, because if that extraction did go wrong and something happened to you, I'd feel like it was all on me. I'd feel like it was my fault, because I failed to look out for you. And I don't think I can handle being responsible for your death."

"As much as you hurt me," you said as you stood up and were pulled into his arms, voice muffled by the fabric of his T-shirt, "I could never bring myself to actually hate you."

"I just care about you too much, I can't lose you," he murmured into your hair, arms tightening their grip around your waist. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you mumbled, voice muffled by his T-shirt, "I forgive you."

"I love you," he whispered so quietly that he thought you wouldn't catch what he was saying, but you just barely managed to hear it. But honestly, he didn't care. You couldn't help the smile forming on your face at that moment. "I love you too."

"Oh my god, that tension was fucking killing me," Bucky groaned as the doors to the gym burst open, and he and Sam came inside. "I was about to explode if you guys didn't kiss and make up." "Oh uh, also, Y/N, your leg..." Sam pointed out. You and Steve both looked down to see blood seeping through the thick bandaging wrapped around your thigh.

"Well, shit," you choked out. "Oops."

"Language," Steve joked. "Come on. Let's go to Bruce so we can get that treated."

"Don't have too much fun with each other!" the two men called after you.

"Shut up!" you shouted back.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic

[jalapeno-princess]

You Weren’t Mine to Lose

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 9.4K

Genre: Angst

Warning: Mentions of sex, cheating

Summary: You made the mistake of falling in love with someone who was never yours to begin with. What started off as a one night stand turned in to months of sneaking around with each other and devoting most of your time and energy to a man who was already in a relationship. However, the high you get from fooling around with Mark is the only thing that’s been keeping you from going completely insane. But what happens when lust turns to love?

A/N: Hey guys, so I have good news and bad news. Let’s start with the bad news, I had to get a second job (On top of my teaching job and being a full time college student) so this means I won’t be able to write as much as I normally do (I haven’t even started on my new series just yet and I’m sorry for those who are anticipating it I have no clue when I will actually get around to writing it) but the good news is I have two stories prepared to post within the next few weeks so there’s that to look forward to. I hope you’re all doing well, especially after the news of Yugyeom signing with another company but honestly, I am so happy for him. If all seven of them end up leaving the company entirely, good for them. They deserve so much better than the shit excuse of a company JYPE is and I support each and every single member in all of their endeavors and plans for the future. With that being said, happy reading. (Based on August by Taylor Swift). 

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mineYour back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

“Fuck—go faster, please—M—Mark, I need you to go faster—sh—shit shit, just like that.” 

Mark Tuan, ever the gentleman did as he was told. However, he would do anything you asked of him during moments like this, God knows he wanted it too. His cock felt so wonderful grazing against your tight, sopping walls. His hardened tip continuously hit the back of your cervix, kissing it with each and every thrust. 

The two of you were going at it for almost an hour now; both of you reached your highs after giving each other mind blowing head—but you had yet to come together. You edged him three times, riding him until his cum reached the tip of his cock only to lift yourself off of him, earning you a scowl and the sexiest grunts of frustration. 

He left multiple slap marks on your ass; letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you have all power against him. No matter how much fun he’d have whenever you did dominate him and take over the sex session, he wasn’t letting you have all the fun tonight. There was sweat dripping down both your bodies—his entire body was warm with fervor as he continued to leave multiple hickeys along the valley of your breasts. 

His breath was hot against your neck as he tried his best to conceal his moans; it was surprising, his room had no echo whatsoever—yet, the many sinful noises falling from his mouth and yours bounced off the walls along with the sound of skin on skin slapping against each other. His thrusts were relentless as he picked up his pace; pumping in to you as if he was trying to punish you for being naughty. His pelvis ramming against your bare cheeks made a loud crack sound each time he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of you. 

It was addicting; feeling him bury himself balls deep inside of your pussy, but you were well aware that the sensation had an even bigger effect on him than it did you. Doggy style was Mark’s favorite position right next to watching you bounce up and down on him as your breasts jiggled all but gently. Something about being able to see his cock sliding so easily in to your tight walls drove the older boy fucking crazy. 

“Fuck y/n—so fucking tight as always baby. Tell me how it feels—I want to know that I’m driving you insane—“

“Feels—so good Mark—so, so good.” 

He hummed contently against the crook of your neck while picking up his pace if it was even possible. At this point, he was practically drilling himself inside of you; it came as a shock that you both still had yet to cum. On other occasions, you and Mark had no problem with reaching your highs with just your hands and mouths alone. Penetration was your favorite part of sex, so you had a feeling your body wanted to indulge in having Mark’s cock inside of your pussy for as long as you could have him for. 

“You feel so amazing y/n, I could fuck you for hours. I will never get tired of having your cunt wrapped around my dick. Please—tell me you’re close. I’m about to lose my damn mind here pretty soon.” You giggled softly against his chest; nodding in agreement while placing a few wet kisses near the sensitive spot right below his ear. 

“I’m close, so close—“

He bit softly against your collarbone, trying to hide the fact that he was seconds away from losing his will to do anything. You were just that mind blowing. Unfortunately, right as you were about to let the wave of lust consume your entire body like a wildfire, there was a new sound that filled the room. The piercing ring of a cellphone broke you out of your Mark induced haze. T

his wasn’t the first time his phone went off while the two of you were busy loving up on each other’s bodies; there were multiple situations where Mark had to cuss out his friends because they always seemed to try and get in touch with him at all the wrong times. There was even one night where he threw his phone at the wall because it wouldn’t stop ringing. When you felt Mark tense up at the blaring noise, you had a huge feeling you knew exactly who was on the other line. He looked up at you and released an exasperated sigh before doing the unthinkable. You wanted him to ignore it, just like he did almost every single time, but he tapped gently on your thigh; as if he was nonverbally asking for you to put your late night romp on pause. 

“Mark, are you fucking serious—“

“It’ll just be a minute, tops. I promise. No funny business, please.” 

To your dismay, he reached for his phone and answered the call. It was tempting—the idea of palming his naked sex, fondling his balls or even grinding your wet folds against his thigh—you knew you would get some kind of reaction out of him. Mark was a very sensitive person; physically and mentally. It didn’t take much for him to cry; emotionally and sexually. 

He cried in front of you more times than you could count on your fingers. Whether it was because of a sad movie, when school could get a little too much for him to handle or the time he got the news that his grandfather was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer, he didn’t hesitate to pour out his feelings in front of you. You felt special knowing that you were one of the very few people who’d get to see that side of Mark; his soft, gentle, fragile side. Not the confident, overbearing and egotistical asshole he’d portray himself out to be on campus. 

During the times you would find yourself on your knees, milking him dry of his white, creamy liquid and making sure his legs would wobble by the end of the night, he’d always cry out in pleasure while begging you to do something—anything to help soothe the pleasurable soreness you caused to his lower body. You knew you’d be treading in rough waters if you did tease him in any way while he was on the phone with her, but you were coming to the point where you didn’t even care if she were to find out anymore. 

“Hello? Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” 

You laughed sarcastically in disbelief—what was so important that couldn’t wait a few more minutes? Something had to be wrong with Mark—who in their right mind would put a halt on fulfilling their carnal urges just to answer the damn phone? You rolled your eyes in irritation—it’s because she was the one trying to get in touch with him. His girlfriend of a year and a half, Aubrey. 

You never understood why Mark continued to fool around with you when he had a girlfriend. What started off as a one night stand at a house party one of his friends threw a little over five months ago turned in to a dangerous affair between the two of you. For the longest time, you knew nothing of the girl in question; Mark was really good at hiding her existence. 

He never told you that he was in a relationship, you didn’t see her at any party or gathering nor did you get a chance to see her around school. But that was because she was his girlfriend from back home. He only saw her during breaks or if she flew up to see him, but for most of their relationship—they were long distance. That was the only plausible reason you believed he allowed this relationship or whatever it was between the two of you to continue. 

One day, you were playing games on Mark’s phone when she sent him a message, asking him what he was doing. At first, you just assumed it was a friend of his or maybe even a classmate, but then, she told him that she missed him and told him to call her when he had the chance. You confronted him in anger; sure, you found it completely weird that he continued to see you—especially for more than just sex. The two of you couldn’t even be considered fuck buddies—no, not when you’d go to sleep wrapped tightly in his warm embrace only to wake up in the morning to his signature gummy smile and stinky morning breath. 

You’d go on cute little dates—or what you assumed were dates. He’d hold your hand and compliment you on your beauty and whatever outfit you put together that day. He’d call you if he couldn’t sleep, he’d pick you up from and drop you off to school, he’d cook you food if he noticed that you were tired and he even made a playlist of songs that reminded him of you; albeit, most of them were meant for when the two of you would stumble in to bed together, but it also contained songs that were more heartfelt and romantic. 

You had a hard time understanding why you were letting him continue to use you. You hated cheaters with a passion; you’ve seen homewreckers ruin multiple marriages within your family and the idea of someone in a relationship fooling around with another person made your skin crawl—yet here you were, fucking with another girl’s boyfriend. You went against all your beliefs and every single rule you were taught to follow just for the devastatingly handsome and sweet talking man sitting right in front of you. 

Honestly, you felt bad for his girlfriend. It was obvious that Mark meant a lot to her. She would constantly text him and send him pictures of what she’d be eating or if she went somewhere the two of them used to frequent. You felt horrible; Aubrey seemed like such a sweet girl and she was completely oblivious to the fact that there was someone else involved in Mark’s life. There were so many times you wanted to call it quits with Mark, you couldn’t keep fooling around with him considering the fact that he had someone at home who loved him—almost as much as you did. 

When you first found out that you weren’t the only one, you should have told him it was over. You should have told him that you weren’t the kind of person who was fine with committing adultery nor did you want to be the other woman—you were a firm believer in monogamous relationships but you didn’t have the strength to tell him no when he began to leave wet, sloppy kisses all along your jaw. You were in deep and you despised the fact that you were so hooked on to him. Mark was everything you could ever want in a significant other; not only was he the most attractive man you have ever laid your eyes on, but he was soft-spoken and gentle towards you. 

At school, he was a cocky prick; his group of friends were some of the most popular guys at your university. It seemed as though every student either wanted to be them, be friends with them or to be with them. But when the two of you were alone, his demeanor would take a 360 degree turn. Sometimes, you’d find it hard to believe that he had two personalities; one meant for his friends and everyone he associated himself with and another one meant for you and only you. It got you thinking though, how did he act when he was with Aubrey? 

Did he treat her the way he did you? Was he protective over her? Could she make him laugh the way you seemingly never failed to? Did he get flustered by a single smile or graze of her fingers against his arm? Was he constantly checking up on her to see how her day was going? He hardly ever talked to her when the two of you were together and seeing as how most of your free time was spent with him, you wondered when he had the chance to call her. 

There were only two instances where he answered her phone call when you were hanging out together. He always gave you an apologetic frown while taking the call and it was when you heard him tell her that he loved her that you knew, you were in love with him. It felt like a painful jab to the chest—for months, you’ve been lying to yourself. 

I don’t love him, I just love who I am when I’m with him. I love how he takes such good care of me and how he fucks me so well. 

You’d repeat those words to yourself every single time that you’d get to see him. With every kiss he’d steal from the corner of your mouth or every smile and look of adoration he’d send your way, you began to feel something deep in your chest. Whenever he’d drop you home, you always felt so empty—like a piece of you went with him back to his place. 

Mark Tuan owned your heart; there was no doubt about it. You’ve been with quite a few guys in the last three years of college but none of them could ever make you feel as over the moon or as elated the way Mark so easily did. He made you so happy; your heart rate would increase rapidly just by the mere sight of him. His laughter—his high pitched, contagious laugh always seemed to send fire through your veins. For months, you tried to accept the fact that all you would ever be to Mark was a place to put his cock while he was away from his actual significant other. 

Maybe, he was only kind, affectionate and generous towards you because it was the only way to get you to stay by his side. If it were anyone else in your shoes, they probably would have given up on him once it was revealed that he was already in a relationship. 

How did he not feel even the smallest ounce of guilt rearranging your guts; pressing you up against his balcony and fucking you in to the next week knowing that his girlfriend was waiting patiently for him to graduate so they could finally be together? And how could he not feel remorse considering the fact that he brought you in to this mess? He was selfish; that you felt wholeheartedly was true. If he cared about you or Aubrey, he would have either broken up with her as soon as the two of you found yourselves falling in to bed together the first time, or he would have never even cheated on her in the first place. How could he continue this facade? How was he fine with playing not just his girlfriend, but you too? He probably didn’t think you held any romantic feelings for him and God—if only that was the truth. 

If you had the choice, you would go back to the beginning of your arrangement and made it your mission to have never fell in love with him. You would have made yourself immune to his endless flirting, you wouldn’t let yourself kiss him other than when you would have sex, you would have made sure that what went on with you and him was strictly physical. No feelings—No emotions—nothing. It was only natural for you to have felt something for him. If you knew back then what you currently know now, you would have never allowed him in to your life—in to your heart. 

You would have never let him tear down the walls you’ve built so high in attempts to keep people out. You would have never allowed him to take up your entire mind—you wouldn’t have given him your body if he wasn’t willing to take all of you. Who were you kidding? There was no regretting Mark Tuan. Even if you were given the chance to go back to the past, you wouldn’t change a thing. Mark Tuan was your person, whether you wanted to accept it or not. He was the rightful owner of your heart, even if you didn’t own his. You couldn’t really hear what she was saying over the phone, but Mark’s brows began to furrow; as if something bad happened. 

Since he was distracted, you took this time to pull away from him—retracting his cock from your now dry folds. Tears were brimming at your eyelids and you would rather die than give him a reason to inflate his ego. He’d have a field day if he found out that you were in love with him; that was the last thing you needed—the last thing he deserved. You would always come second to Audrey. He might have currently been in bed with you; his limbs tangled with yours—running his hands through your hair, tracing the outline of your features feather lightly, kissing every corner of your face, but at the end of the day, Aubrey had the rightful title of his girlfriend. Not you. Nor would it ever be you, even if they did break up one day. 

If Mark saw you as someone with more than just a casual fuck to him, then he would have solidified your relationship months ago. If he harbored any sort of feelings for you, he’d feel wrong telling another girl that he loved her.  Did he though? Did he love her? If he genuinely loved her or at least cared for her—especially because they were in a relationship together, he would never have cheated on her. 

When you love someone, you never want to put them in any kind of situation that would hurt them and you most definitely wouldn’t feel right giving yourself—your time, love, effort and energy to anyone else but that person. As soon as he saw you getting up from off the bed, he asked Aubrey to wait a minute and gave her the excuse that someone rung on his doorbell. You had to force yourself not to say or do anything that would get him in trouble with his girlfriend. 

“What are you doing? I said I’d be hanging up with her soon I’m literally about to end the call—“

“Don’t bother—I’m no longer in the mood anymore so you go finish up with her while I finish myself off.” 

You picked up your clothes from where they were thrown on the ground and headed over to the bathroom; locking the door before he could try and stop you or get you to change your mind. In the corner of your eye, you could see him attempt to follow you, but he must’ve stopped altogether once you shut the door. 

A choked up sob fell from your lips and you tried so hard to prevent any tears from falling, but it was inevitable. Why did you let this go on for so long? Mark was breaking your heart more and more as the days went on and you were the pathetic fool who continued to allow him in doing so. You were wrapped around his finger and there was nothing you could do about it. As soon as you put on all your clothes, you rinsed your face free of any tears and took a deep breath before returning outside. 

All you wanted to do was return back to your apartment. You needed some time to think out this entire arrangement. The idea of losing Mark—no longer having him in your life, no longer being able to kiss his pretty lips, to be held in his protective embrace, to hear him whisper sweet nothings while he passionately made love to you, it broke your heart. It was as if he had somewhat of a Stockholm syndrome hold on you. He was ruining you mentally; he was holding you captive and you weren’t able to leave him—nor did you willingly want to. At this point, you were fine with Mark taking advantage of your patience. All you wanted was him; in anyway you could have him. 

Once you felt like you gave yourself enough time to breathe and recollect your thoughts, you hesitantly made your way back in to his room and you were secretly hoping he’d still be occupied with Aubrey so you didn’t have to worry about him stopping you and questioning what just happened. If this were to happen in the beginning of your affair, you wouldn’t have let it got to you and you were sure you’d continue from where the two of you left off from; but now that there were feelings involved—specifically your feelings, there was no way you could pretend that nothing was wrong. That—you were fine with being a side chick who would drop anything and everything just to be at his beck and call. You were sure you’d spill everything; knowing the kind of person you were, you would probably tell him how and when your feelings of lust turned in to love and how you respected yourself a lot more now to continue staying with someone who technically belonged to another woman. 

He might not have seen her in a long while, but he continued to act like everything was fine between them. Not once has he ever told you exactly what she meant to him—she hardly ever came up in conversation. It’s as if he never wanted to bring her up and you understood that it was because Mark was well aware that as someone who was sleeping around with him, you probably wouldn’t want to hear about his girlfriend. To your dismay, he was no longer on the phone and he was sitting at the edge of the bed—still naked and waiting for you to come out. 

Right as his gaze landed on you, he leaped up from off the bed and made a beeline toward you. He tried to reach out to you, but you shook your head—you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You were exhausted; he continued to take, take, take from you and although he was very generous in bed, he didn’t give the same amount of devotion in a romantic aspect. He didn’t fulfill your heart’s desires like he did with your lustful ones. 

“Where are you going baby—“

“Don’t. Don’t give me that baby shit Mark, you just got off the phone with your girlfriend for heaven’s sakes. I think it would be best for the both of us if I were to leave before I say or do something I will regret.”

“Wait—what are you even saying? What happened y/n? Why do you sound so upset? You knew exactly what you were signing up for as soon as we hooked up—“ 

You let out a scoff of disbelief. Was he being real right now? It was too late, you were going to let everything out tonight. If he ended up not reciprocating your feelings, then there was nothing you could do. These last six months opened your eyes to the reality that you were never going to mean as much to Mark the way he did to you. You could try anything; you could fuck him as much as both your time and energy permitted you to. You could do whatever it was he asked of you, but it would never be enough. You would never be enough. 

There was something Aubrey had that you didn’t; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it—it couldn’t have been because they have a longer history. Maybe he felt obligated to continue staying with her. Although you knew Mark like the back of your hand—you knew practically every little thing about him, there had to be some information that he left you in the dark about. Maybe their parents were friends and he just wanted to please the both of them by staying with her or maybe he genuinely liked her, but he had his desires that needed to be fulfilled and he was going to use you until they could finally be together again.

“I didn’t know anything you asshole! You kept Aubrey a secret from me for an entire fucking month. I shouldn’t have told you I was okay with continuing whatever it is that’s going on between you and I. It’s not fucking fair Mark, to her or to me. We were fucking when your girlfriend called! Does it not bother you in the least way that you’re playing the both of us? Do you not sit back and think that what you’re doing is wrong? Yes, I’m sleeping around with a man in a relationship, but you’re the one allowing it! You’re just as at fault here, so don’t try to make it seem like you’re not doing anything wrong! Admit it, you get off on some kind of high knowing that you have the ability to manipulate two different women. One who you call your girlfriend and one who you call when you need to get your dick wet. I don’t know who you think you are Mark, but I’m tired of being your puppet. I’m tired of giving you the ability to break me—to do whatever you want with me. I let it go all these months; I know it was wrong and I feel like such a bitch for getting involved with you knowing you have a girlfriend. I made a vow to myself never to do such a thing but look Mark—I’m a fucking mistress! I can’t blame you completely because I’m still here, but I need you to know that I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. With this—with you. Have a nice life, I no longer want to be apart of it.” 

You quickly grabbed your bag from his bedside table and stormed out of his room—if he were to come after you and attempt to sweet talk you in to staying; at his apartment and in his life, you would’ve gave in to him and that powerful speech you just poured your heart in to would have all been for nothing.  As much as you wanted to rid him from your thoughts entirely and say that you felt as though a huge weight has been lifted from off your shoulders, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt when you realized he wasn’t chasing after you. But then again, this was what you wanted—your heart could no longer handle the fact that he didn’t care for you or love you the way you practically gave him your entire being. 

You would have done anything for the older boy—you were well aware of that and so was he; but allowing him to play with your emotions all the while leading you on was something you refused to let continue. From the time you were a little girl, you were extremely insecure about every single little feature on your body; your bushy eyebrows, your chubby cheeks, your sharp nose that you believed was too big, your crooked teeth and short neck. You also didn’t like the fact that you were only 5”2���you felt like people didn’t take you seriously because you were so tiny. However, over the course of your arrangement with Mark, you didn’t know how you did it—but you fell in love with everything you believed you hated about yourself. 

Unfortunately, you knew Mark had a lot to do with it. He praised your body on a daily basis, like it was his duty to tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you were and how your body was handcrafted by Leonardo DaVinci himself. During your sexual activities; whether it was when he’d find himself with his face buried in your cunt, or if he had you pressed up against the counter, he never failed to compliment you on how soft your skin was, how insane your curves were and how he truly believed you were God’s favorite with how amazing your body was. 

Only then did it hit you—Mark only ever seemed to compliment you when his dick was deep inside of you or right after the two of you reached euphoria together. You had to accept it—you were just a fuck buddy, a play thing—someone to help him relieve stress and find pleasure through. When you reached your car, you sat in it and cried for a few moments; allowing everything to come out. 

It was hysterical; less than an hour ago, you were crying out of frustration because he kept fucking you with his fingers but refused to fill you with his length until you begged him to do so. Now, your sobs were filling up your entire vehicle all because you couldn’t let your affair to continue anymore. Everything seemed to be getting out of hand. You put so much effort in to something so pathetic all for a boy who couldn’t give less of a shit about you—a stupid, egotistical, manipulative, selfish asshole. You wanted to wait until you were completely calm and free of any more tears before you began to drive back to your apartment. 

Did all of that really just happen? What were you going to do now? There was no way you could just pretend like he was nothing to you. Six months of memories; kissing him in bathrooms that was hardly ever used at your university, singing along to Disney movies, helping each other with homework, attempting to cook meals that either of you saw on food network and ultimately failing, driving to another state on a whim just because you needed a break from life—every single beautiful moment spent with him was forever etched in to the back of your mind. 

Mark Tuan was the rightful owner of your heart; he was the reason why it would flutter and rapidly beat as much as it would sink and tear apart by the smallest mistake or argument. You continuously repeated to yourself that this was what you needed—you needed to let him go sooner or later or else he would end up breaking you completely; until you were a shell of nothing. 

Two weeks went by since that night and you could honestly say they were the worst two weeks of your entire life. You weren’t even exaggerating—you were miserable beyond belief. Mark hasn’t tried to get in contact with you at all since you stormed out of his apartment and with every swig you took of whatever alcohol beverage you drank in order to take your mind off of the man in question, you attempted to coerce yourself in believing that this is what you wanted. 

This is what was best for you. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though; sure, you told him that you were done with him and you no longer wanted to have anything to do with him, but he gave up so easily. It felt like a slap in the face by reality that your biggest worries were true—he had no legitimate feelings for you; just lust. He could get anyone he wanted to take your place; you were just another useless body. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find out that he told his friends about you and what the two of you have been doing for the last few months. 

His group of friends were notorious for having a group chat that they would brag about all of their hookups. You were so tempted to reach out to him and the multiple amounts of alcohol you’d consume would only make you crave his presence a lot more. Some days were better than others and by better, you didn’t cry as much and you actually would get some sleep. Why did you allow this to happen? 

Anyone who knew anything about friends with benefit relationship were well aware that it could never be just sex. Things always got messy; one person fell in love while the other didn’t reciprocate the same feelings. In this case, you were the poor unfortunate soul who got the short end of the stick—you fell in love knowing that your feelings would never be reciprocated. It was heartbreaking; the first time you ever loved someone—it just so happened to be a person that was never yours in the first place. Once you were to move on from Mark completely, you were afraid that you would never be able to love anyone else. 

This entire arrangement ruined your outlook on love permanently. You had to force yourself not to try and reach out to him—there was a point where you even hid your phone because you were afraid you’d give in and call him. He obviously didn’t care—losing you wasn’t a loss to him at all. Not if you never meant anything to him in the first place. Your friends tried to reach out to you multiple times throughout your emotional episode; it wasn’t like you drop off the face of the earth without an explanation. But nobody knew about you and Mark—nor would anyone understand what you were doing with him. 

You were still in your early twenties, but you weren’t too young to realize that having an affair was wrong. You’ve known that even when you were a little girl—if your friends or even your family were to find out the mess that you’ve gotten yourself in to, they’d be so disappointed. Every time your phone went off, you held on to a tiny string of hope that it would be Mark trying to get in contact with you. It was too much of you to hope that maybe, just maybe he came to the conclusion that he missed you, that he was nothing without you and that he accepted the thought of loving you. However, it was always your close friends trying to get you to go out with them. 

As much as you felt like you should say yes to them and allow yourself to move on by joining in on activities to keep you preoccupied, you didn’t have the strength, energy or desire to do anything at all. At the three week point, you came to accept that Mark wasn’t coming back. He was done with you, and there was nothing you could do about it. When you returned back to school, your friends were on your case—pointing out the fact that you looked like literal death. Claiming that you’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time they saw you and that your cheekbones were more prominent. 

They also stated that you looked as though you haven’t slept in days—your eye bags were dark and your eyes were puffier than usual. Like you had done with everyone else in your life; you lied and gave them the excuse that you had some kind of bug and that your doctor told you that it would be best for you to stay bedridden. Thankfully, they bought it—you didn’t need the constant reminder of why you were acting like someone died. 

“Hey, I know you don’t care about anyone from Jinyoung’s group of friends, but did you happen to see Mark’s girlfriend yet? She’s here for spring break. She’s so pretty; I don’t understand why she would want to come to a university on her vacation, but maybe she just wants to spend time with her boyfriend no matter what it is that they do. They’re so cute together.” 

Everything your best friend was telling you about Mark and Aubrey felt like a punch to the gut. Every single word twisted your heart and you began to grow lightheaded. So that’s why he didn’t come after you that night; maybe she told him she was coming to visit him. He didn’t need you anymore—he’d have someone, his someone in particular to give him his fill. He might have been cheating on her, but you didn’t think he’d be the type to sleep with two different girls at the same time—then again, it would probably raise his confidence levels in such an obnoxious way. 

If only your friend knew how much her words were taking over your mind—how much they were ruining you and slowly tearing you apart. You wanted to cry—you felt like screaming to get her to stop. She had no idea about your relationship with Mark, so it wasn’t as though she was trying to make you feel bad. Even if she did know, she wouldn’t do anything to hurt your feelings—although, she would have been upset to hear about your poor choices. 

“I—uh—no. I’ve only been here for about ten minutes so—I wouldn’t know. Cool. I should get going. I’ve already missed out on so much—I’ll call you later.” 

You wasted no time briskly heading to your first class. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go anymore. Coming to school was a mistake—what was another day of missing class? You’ve been doing your work online; there was really no reason to be there other than for attendance purposes. You didn’t feel like you learned anything anyway, so there was really no point at all. You mentally cursed yourself at your negative thoughts—this was all Mark’s fault. Before him, you genuinely enjoyed school. 

Your education meant everything to you. Whenever you were assigned homework—you completed it before your next day of class. Some of your professors complimented your on your work ethic and your English professor even asked you to become their TA because you were always so on top of things. Now, you couldn’t wait for school to be over with and you didn’t even care whether or not you passed any of your classes this semester. 

Nothing mattered to you anymore and it was so disheartening that you allowed a stupid asshole to have this effect on you. To flip your world upside down and make you hate everything that used to bring you so much joy and contentment. You were busy trying to avoid people in the hallway and you couldn’t care less about whether or not you ended up bumping in to someone. Today was just not your day and if people were smart, they’d stay far away from you.  

Your phone began to ring, and when you saw that one of your other friends were trying to get in touch with you, you were debating on answering. Human interaction wasn’t something you wanted to put up with for the rest of your time on campus. Everything was all too much for you to take in. The idea of Mark—introducing Aubrey to everyone as his girlfriend, the risk of seeing them together—kissing, holding hands, hugging, acting sweet to one another, it was messing with your head. 

Heard you’re back, if you’re free right now, did you want to get some coffee?

The word no was at the tip of your tongue—you were afraid that you’d give yourself away if you showed any sort of emotion that proved you weren’t sick at all. However, you loved coffee and you were sure it would be the only kind of positivity you’d be able to have at all today so you were going to take what you could get. 

It didn’t take too long for you to reach the coffee shop—there were three spread throughout campus, so you made your way over to where your friend said to meet them. You put in your headphones and blasted your playlist of sad songs—most people would try to steer clear of melancholic music while they were going through such a difficult time but it actually brought you peace. Some weird, twisted kind of peace but nonetheless, it helped you cope with the pain that Mark’s sudden absence left on you. The smell of coffee was soon ridding you of your anxiety and you were quick to see your friend towards the back of the shop. She waved you down and you acknowledged her before getting in line to place your order. 

“Next in line.” 

You gave a soft smile to the barista and gave him your order—going with a large caramel macchiato with three shots of espresso, you were in need of caffeine in the hopes that it would give you enough energy to last through three classes. When you pulled to the side and began to scroll through Instagram, your friend sent you a playful text message about how she was glad that you went with the biggest size, you were definitely going to need it. 

“I have a grande matcha latte and a venti iced americano with almond milk for Aubrey—“ 

Your heart felt as if it was about to combust out of your chest at the sound of her name. Sure, there could have been multiple Aubrey’s on your campus. It wasn’t an uncommon name—but you knew the americano was Mark’s go to beverage. He was lactose intolerant and the first time you went to get coffee together, he told you that americanos helped him stay awake. You didn’t want to look up—you were afraid of seeing her or worse—seeing him. 

Life could be a bitch sometimes. Maybe this was your karma for fooling around with someone who was already taken. You couldn’t help it, you lifted your head up to see the girl who owned the heart of the man who owned yours and you ultimately regretted doing so. She was beautiful—there was no doubt about it. No matter how much you wanted to be bitter and say that she was ugly or that you couldn’t understand what Mark saw in her, you knew that was far from the truth. You’ve only seen a few pictures on her Instagram when you accidentally stumbled upon her account one day but her pictures didn’t do her justice at all. Her long brown hair was in big, bouncy waves.

She was wearing a red, summer dress with a pair of heels. You could feel yourself choking up at the sight of her and all her beauty and you began to mentally scold yourself for not putting any effort in to your outfit at all today. But what did it matter? At the end of the day, it was her who got to say that Mark was her person. She got to tell people with confidence that they were a couple while you had to hide behind the cafeteria or shopping malls in the fear of anyone recognizing the two of you. 

She grabbed the two drinks and made her way to a table near where your friend was sitting. Out of all the places that she could have decided to meet you, it just had to be the same place that Mark’s girlfriend was currently at all the while waiting for him. Was it too late for you to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t stay for too long? Surely she’d be able to understand right? 

There was no way you could be able to withstand being in the same room with the man that ripped your heart from out of your chest and threw it on the ground right in front of you—stepping on it like a used cigarette. That’s all you were to him—a cigarette. You were bad for him—but he was addicted to you and he used you only when it was beneficial to him. Just like the way smoking addicts would turn to cigarettes for stress relief, Mark would come to you for a way to release any pent up frustration and just like when the cigarette burns out and the high is over, you’re thrown to the ground and discarded until he needed another hit. 

“Y/n, I have your venti caramel macchiato.” 

Your hands were shaking and all the wind was knocked out of you. After politely thanking the barista, you took in a deep breath as you sauntered to the direction of your friend. You began to plan out ways to escape this unfortunate situation you found yourself in. Fate must’ve had something against you; this wasn’t a coincidence that you’d be in the same exact place at the same exact time as the both of them. This was your payback—your punishment and you were just going to have to take it like a big girl. 

“Hey y/n. I’m so happy to see you again, although, from what everyone who has seen you has told me so far, you really don’t look too good. Maybe you should have asked your doctor to give you a few more days off—“

“I’m fine, really. I can’t afford to miss out on any more school or else I won’t graduate on time. Don’t worry about me. Let’s talk about you, inform me on everything I missed.” 

As she began to tell you about how her life was going and how much you missed out on so many fun outings, everything she was saying went through one ear and out the other. Thankfully, your back was facing where Aubrey was sitting. You were sure if you were able to see her, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off of her. Your friend continued to explain the crisis she was experiencing with one of her AP classes and you felt bad for not giving a shit at all. You tried to muster any kind of response and you could tell your “oh really?” and your “that sucks” were completely insincere, but if she noticed anything out of the ordinary—she didn’t say anything. 

You didn’t think anything of the chime of the front door, but something in your chest—probably the fact that you grew accustomed to the distinct sound of Mark’s footsteps made it known that he was now there and your suspicions were soon answered when he spoke up. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. My professor held us back for five minutes. You weren’t waiting too long were you?” She giggled softly at her apology and it had to be the green monster of jealous on your back that was growing annoyed at the sound. 

“No. I just got our drinks. So how was class baby?” 

The term of endearment made your skin crawl—baby. You used to call him that; but then again, it was only when you were fucking him. Only once did you ever call him baby other than when you were having your fun together and he never really reacted to it. He must’ve been used to hearing you say it during your many hookups that it was second nature to you. You couldn’t handle staying in the coffee shop for a minute longer—you were afraid that something inside of you would get you to walked over to their table and tell her everything. 

Mark didn’t deserve to have a happy ending—not after all that he’s put you through. If you had to suffer, so did he. But you weren’t like that. You weren’t a terrible, heartless person no matter how much you wanted to be. You wanted to hurt him—break him—ruin him the way he so easily did to you. You wanted every single one of his thoughts to be filled with you and how he played you. Your mind was begging you to leave—the last thing you needed was to make a fool out of yourself and who knew? He could pretend that he had no idea what you were talking about and make you seem like the biggest idiot ever. 

“Hey, I actually planned on talking to my physics professor about missing assignments so I think I’m going to head out. Sorry about that.” The younger girl shook her head before giving your hand a comforting squeeze. 

“You’re fine! Don’t stay away from us any longer okay? We’re only young once, let’s make the most of what we still can.” 

You mirrored her expression and nonverbally agreed before picking up your books and your bag. Right as you said your goodbyes, you abruptly turned around and collided with a body. Not just any body—the body you’ve grown so familiar with in the last half a year. The body that made you feel so safe, so comforted, so happy and so serene. The body you’ve missed more than anything—Mark.

“I’m so sorry I should have looked where I was going—y/n?” 

Hearing him say your name again after almost an entire month of not seeing or hearing from him sent you through so many different emotions and you felt like you were on the verge of both throwing up and crying. It wasn’t a sensation you were used to nor did you ever want to get used to it. You just wanted to get the hell out of there. You didn’t even look up at him; your initial instinct would probably be to either punch him or to kiss him and both options would bring you so many problems. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me—“ you attempted to walk away from him; being this close in proximity to him was suffocating. Your chest felt heavy and you were growing nauseous. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry—that night—I can explain—“

“There’s nothing for you to explain Mark. I’d watch myself if I were you. Your girlfriend is right over there. You’re not as quiet as you think you are, I don’t even know why you’re talking to me or what you feel the need to explain yourself. What we had is over. You and I are over, so there’s no need—“

“Please, we need to talk. I need to tell you something—“ 

Now would be a good time to just bring your fist up and force it against his cheek. Did he hear himself? He was gone—he stayed away for weeks. He made you feel like complete and utter shit. He didn’t fight for you or your relationship—he didn’t beg you to stay nor did he try to stop you at all. Seeing him right now, you noticed that you were more angry with him than you were missing him. Did he really think that you were going to take him back with open arms as though the last three weeks of hell that you suffered through never happened at all? Did he think you were that stupid and that desperate enough to go crawling back to him with the snap of a finger? 

He knew that he had the power to get you to come running to him even if he didn’t try to stop you that night. If you were to tell him why you were so angry with the fact that she interrupted your time with him, he would have seen right through you. If Mark had any kind of common sense, he would be able to pick up on the fact that it had nothing to do about being interrupted during sex. You wanted to laugh sarcastically—his girlfriend was a mere five feet away, he was truly unbelievable. 

“Your silence that night spoke volumes for you so I think it’s best if we pretend like what we had never happened at all. You better go return back to her or else she’ll know something is up. I meant what I said when I left you, I no longer want to be apart of your life if my place—my presence isn’t as much of a priority as yours is in mine. Now, before I end up walking over there and telling her exactly who you are and who I was to you, be smart and leave it as it is.” 

You shoved passed him and walked out of the shop with so much weight off of your shoulders. Telling him off felt amazing; there was so much more you wish you could have said, but you already felt eyes on the two of you and you didn’t want to bring any more attention to the two of you. You were sure your friend must’ve saw the entire exchange go down and she would most likely have a lot of questions, but you didn’t care about anything at all—your mind was set on going back home. 

Sleep sounded so good right now and as much as running away from your problems wasn’t ideal, you deserved some rest. You didn’t even attend one class and you were in more or less words exhausted to the tenth degree. The image of him begging for you to hear him out with just his eyes alone was now imprinted in the back of your mind. Mark was never a man of words—not with you. He preferred using actions and you liked it that way. 

But now, those actions were being used against you, not for you. There was something inside of you; pleading for you to hear him out—you knew it was the part that still loved him wholeheartedly. You wanted to give up your pride—you were proud of yourself for standing your ground, but there was a hole in your heart that could only be filled by Mark himself. As you started walking towards your car, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and it didn’t take a genius to know who might have been texting you. 

That was who he was; Mark was insufferable. He was the type who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted and if he wanted to talk to you, he was going to do anything and everything in his power to get you to listen. You contemplated taking a glance at your phone for quite some time. It was tempting; what if he decided to just confess everything since you weren’t willing to let him talk to you in person? There was really no harm in looking at his messages; you just weren’t going to respond. If you even sent a simple “back off” you were allowing him to continue sticking around in your life. By not responding at all, you’re giving him an answer. 

Getting over him completely was going to take some time, but you owed it to yourself to be released from the confines of Mark’s hold that he had on you. There were so many other men out there; men who didn’t come with baggage. Men who were both physically and theoretically available. Men who would love you—only you. Men you didn’t have to worry about their place in your life or your place in theirs. You bit your lip in anticipation; what was there left for him to say or do after you practically shunned him from your life? He might have believed he wasn’t going to give up this time without a fight; you probably did damage to his ego but your mind was set. 

You were done with Mark Tuan, for good.

Mark: I love you and I’m sorry. 11:25 A.M.

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark #got7

[full-of-roman-angst-trash]

Where Did You Go?

This fanfic is dedicated to @moxy--sanders101! Congrats on 1k!!! You definitely deserve it!

Prompt by @transformationloveb

Orginal pompt

TW: Small Unsympathetic Virgil, Roman Angst, Cursing, Very Small Hint of Self Deprecation (Very easy to miss but added it just in case)

Pairings: Familial Creativity Twins (Don’t tag as R*mR*m) Platonic Roceit, Platonic Demus/Dukeciet

~~~~~~~~~

“Loooogggaannn!!! I’m starving!!!” I whine loudly, staring at Logan from my spot on the couch.

A groan responds to my whine.

“Remus shut the fuck up! I’m trying to follow this stupid recipe! If you’re actually starving, then stop being annoying and let me concentrate!”

Daddy dearest frowns a bit, “Logie, language!”

Another groan escapes the Nerdy Wolverine’s mouth, “Sorry, Patton.”

“It’s fine, Logie. Just take a deep breath; If you want, I can try and help you with supper.”

Logan takes a deep breath before sighing and putting the knife that he was using to try and cut some vegetables with, down. 

“There really isn’t a need. No matter what we do, the outcome won’t come out well.”

Virgin, who was sitting on the counter, rolls his eyes, “Geez, try having some faith, teach.” 

“Why should I have ‘faith’? In the past month that Roman has refused to leave his room. Any food that we have attempted to make has been unsatisfactory. I am merely basing my hypothesis on past data.”

"I was just trying to be optimistic...." The emo mumbles in response, shrinking into his hoodie. 

"Awwe Kiddo," Daddy goes over to Virgin and hugs him, "It's okay."

Four-eyes sighs, "My deepest apologies if I hurt your feeling Virgil, that was not my intention. I am merely just frustrated with our current predicament."

"Remus, can you try to convince Ro to come out out of his room again? Please?" The Old Man glances at me.

I throw myself off the couch and onto the floor. 

"I've tried, but Little Miss Tinkerbell refuses to come out until Double D over here leaves," I inform him.

Anxiety rolls his eyes and groans, “Oh my god! Can he just stop being so dramatic!? He’s such a crybaby! He’s literally hurting us just because Deceit made a snarky remark at him! Which was his fault since Deceit was defending himself from Roman’s bullying!”

His words ring in my ears and make a seething rage spread throughout my body, I was just about to defend my brother, but someone beats me to it. 

“Shut the fuck up, Anxiety,” The coldness and anger in Jan’s voice makes a shiver run through all of our spines. 

Anxiety turns to DeeDee with an annoyed and offended expression on his face.

“Excuse me!? I am literally defending you, and you tell me to shut up!?” Virgil glares at Janus.  

“Well, last time I checked, I didn’t ask you to defend me, now did I?” He stands up and starts making his way to our once ally, “Also, you weren’t there for that episode; you only know Patton’s side of the story. So you are in no position to speak about an issue you know barely know anything about.”

He stops right in front of Par-Anxiety and puts a hand on his shoulder passive-aggressively.

He smiles, yet it was an unsettling and scary smile, “You haven’t tried seeing things from his perspective or tried to be sympathetic and tried to understand why he reacted like that. On top of that, you have no right to declare his rebuttal as bullying.”

Anxiety swallows and slaps Jan’s hand away, “W-whatever...” He takes a step back, “I don’t understand why you’re defending that asshole!”

“CALL MY BROTHER ONE MORE NAME I DARE YOU!!!” I summon my morning star and point it at Anxiety, unable to hold my anger any longer.

The coward squeals and takes another step back, not responding.

I take a deep breath and put my morning star away before starting to walk away, “I’m going to talk to my brother.”

“Wait,” Janus grabs my wrist and stops me from going further, “Can I come with you, please? I wanna try and apologize to him...”

I know that Janus is the last person Ro wants to see, but I can’t really say no to Dee. I know Dee really regrets what he did, and well, I want Ro and Dee to get along.

I sigh softly, “Fine, but if he wants you to leave, please do.”

He nods, “Aright, that’s fine,” He lets go of my wrist and follows me to Roman’s room.

We get to Roman’s room, and I knock on the door softly, “Ro, it’s me, Rem. Can you please let me in?

It takes a while for me to get a response, but I know I would.

“A-are you alone....?” His voice is just barely loud enough for me to hear it.

I glance at Double D, noting his shocked expression, probably from him hearing Roman respond.

“No, I’m not,” I turn back to the door.

This time the wait for a response is much longer, “W-Who’s with you...?

I take a small deep breath, “Janus...”

Silence. That’s all that comes back at me. Suddenly though, the door opens and Roman -with messy, tangled hair, a plain black shirt and shorts, puffy red eyes and nose- looks at us.  

“C-Come in.....” 

He moves to let us in. We walk in, and I immediately notice the state of his room; All the posters he had up were ripped clean off, the fairy lights that were hanged on the wall were gone, plain white sheets replaced his rose bed sheets, and his closet wall that he had hand-painted designs into was repainted white. 

I bite my lip and try not to get upset at seeing my brother’s past confident and fiery love for his passions gone. I notice that Jan is looking down, and it was evident that he was also holding back his emotions. I hear Roman close the door; he walks over to his bed and sits down.

He avoids looking at us, “S-So, w-why are you guys h-here....?” 

I sit on the floor, Jan hesitantly sitting next to me, “Well, I think someone has to  tell you a few things.”

I turn to DeeDee and give him an encouraging smile. Roman stays quiet, just waiting for one of us to continue speaking.

Dee takes a deep breath, “Look, Roman...” He starts quietly, “I’m so so sorry... I know what I said wasn’t right, and it was way too far... There was a line, and I definitely crossed it... I’m sorry.”

His words seem to take a while for them to reach Roman; for a while, the room falls silent. 

“I’m sorry too,” Ro finally looks at us, his voice hushed, “For everything I’ve ever done to both of you... I wrongfully judged you guys and stereotyped y’all... Then I had the audacity to insult and make fun of you guys... So, I’m truly sorry...”

Dee smiles softly, “How about we start over?”

“Yeah,” A small smile creeps its way to Roman’s face, “I’d like that.”

“Okay, sorry to interrupt you guys’ moment,” I loudly interject, not really all that sorry, “But, dude, I’m starving, and we have to fix your room, it looks disgusting right now!”

The Disney whore lightheartedly rolls his eyes, “First of all, fine, we can fix my room later. And second of all, can’t you make your own food? I mean you literally eat deodorant.” 

I whine loudly, “You usually make my deodorant, though! You’re the only one that can cook anything good, stupid!” 

“Remus is, for once, correct Roman,” Janus butts in, completely ignoring my offended gasp, “We’ve tried to figure out how to cook, but sadly we’ve had no real success.”

 Mr.Depresso sighs and gets up, “Fine, I guess I can cook dinner again.”

I excitedly stand up, (almost accidentally slipping and crushing Jan) “Yay! Thanks, Hoe Bag!” 

He smacks me on the arm, “Dumb bitch,” He helps JD up.

“While this isn’t quite amusing, stop calling each other names. Also, thank you, Roman.” 

Prince crybaby huffs, “No problem and fine, I yield.”

“Well, I don’t! Now let’s go bitches!” I grab both of their hands and start running out of the room. 

They both follow without bothering to struggle. Once we get to the living room, I let go of their hands, pushing Roman forward slightly. 

“I got the dumbass!”

Everyone's attention turns to us.

Roman regains his balance from my shove and clears his throat awkwardly, going back to avoiding eye contact.

Suddenly, I scoff cuts through the silence, “Oh great, The egotistical prick is back.”

I immediately recognize the voice, and when I notice Roman flinch, all my anger from earlier came back.

“Stop Anxiety. May I remind you that he’s being nice enough to cook dinner for us. Something we don’t deserve after ignoring him and pushing him aside for so long,” Janie quickly responded.

I smirk, “Exactly! So, shut up bitch!”

Before he or any other side can say anything, I grab Janus’ and Roman’s hand and drag them to the kitchen.

As we’re walking there, I hear a small whisper.

“Thank you, guys. You two are the best.”

~~~~~~~~~

Writing Taglist

@just-violet-flowers @itriedandimtired @lilyrockerlove @random-fander

#sanders sides fic #roman angst #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts janus #ts remus #ts virgil #sympathetic remus #sympathetic dark sides #sympathetic deceit #unsympathetic virgil #after pof #creativitwins #platonic roceit #platonic demus #platonic dukeceit #my writing

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day 14

tsukishima kei - fingering + orgasm denial 

kinktober faq prompt list

*NSFW warning featuring fingering and orgasm denial lmao* fem reader

-

“Why are you awake?” 

The scratchy voice of your boyfriend came out of nowhere - nearly making you jump. 

“Do you even know what time it is?” he asked with his lips pressed right against your ear. 

And there was your problem again - that familiar throbbing between your legs that was the only reason you were awake. 

Kei’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your back against his chest. “Go to sleep.” 

His deep breathing replaced the previous silence now that you were so much closer to him. But he wasn’t asleep yet - his fingers were delicately running along the skin of your stomach, where your shirt had risen up. 

And his touch was setting you on fire - if he moved his fingers just a bit lower, you’d be feeling so good. But instead, his innocent touch was driving you crazy. 

You had been aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours, though, so you’d take what you could get. You didn’t even hear yourself when you let out a moan, and you weren’t aware of your movements when your hips jerked forward. 

“Kei…” 

“Oh… that’s why you’re awake.” 

Of course he had you figured out, but it’s not like you were trying to hide it. 

You tried to push his hand down lower, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“You need me to help you fall asleep?” he asked with a scoff, to which you nodded. “Then you’ll have to ask nicely. I could just go back to sleep and let you handle this on your own.” 

Just the thought of having to settle for your own fingers made you whine. “Kei… please, I really, really need your fingers, please.” 

“Will you be able to sleep afterwards?” he asked as his hand traveled down between your legs. Not bothering to reply, you raised your shirt up and he pressed his hand flat against you, your underwear being a barricade between his skin and yours. 

“Jesus, Y/N… you’re soaked.” 

“I can’t help it...” 

“What have you been thinking about?” he asked. 

“You,” you admitted, while attempting to grind into Kei’s hand. 

“What about me?” 

“You… finger fucking me…” 

You couldn’t see, but he rolled his eyes at you. “You sound desperate. If I finger you, you’ll be able to sleep?” 

“Yeah, yes, yes.” 

Pressing kisses up your neck, he said, “Fine. I’ll be nice and give you what you want.” 

You waited not-so-patiently for Kei’s fingers to finally make contact with you - as soon as he had your underwear pulled to the side, two digits pressed into you. 

You gave an audible sigh of relief as your body finally relaxed against Kei - for the entire night, you were aching for his touch. Your body was tense with need, and you couldn’t think of anything else but Kei’s long, slender fingers. 

And now you finally had them. His movements were slow, which you appreciated. 

“Feel better?” 

You couldn’t reply - you were lost as his fingers steadily pumped in and out of you. And he didn’t care that you weren’t replying, although usually he’d demand a response. 

“You’re tight,” he told you, pushing his fingers until they were knuckle deep inside of you. It was as if your body was pulling him in, begging him to be closer. 

His movements were perfect. He knew he was good at fingering you - that’s why he was always so willing to do it any time you asked. You’re sure he gets a confidence boost from hearing your unwavering moans. 

“You feel… so good, Kei.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I think I’m gonna cum -” 

“No.” It’d been less than three minutes, and he wasn’t going to let you cum that easily. You’d woken him up with your constant tossing and turning - he was going to get some fun out of this. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to finger fuck you… but you never said anything about cumming on my fingers -” 

“Kei, please -” 

“No,” he smirked, “that wasn’t part of the deal, Y/N.” 

“I’m - I’m really close.” 

“I can tell,” he said, “you get so tight when you're close, Y/N. But if you cum, I’ll stop.” 

“Don’t stop -” 

“Then don’t cum.” 

You groaned and then grabbed his wrist, forcing him to slow down. “Okay. I won’t.” 

You really had to focus on not cumming - and you hated when Kei did this, because you knew he meant what he said. He really would stop everything if you came too soon, effectively tearing away your orgasm as he did so. Because of that, you’ve gotten good at ignoring that feeling in your gut. 

“Even if I do this?” 

His fingers curled and directly prodded your g-shot, and you almost lost it. Almost. You hated how egotistical he could be. 

“I won’t cum unless you say I can, Kei.” 

“Good girl,” he whispered. “God, you’re such a good girl, Y/N. It almost makes me want to reward you.” 

You were about to beg - but Kei hated begging. 

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough for waking me up?” 

You nodded, and right now you’d give anything for release. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny how much you loved when Kei teased you like this. 

“You’ll get the rest of your punishment in the morning… you can cum for me now, Y/N.” 

He pulled your hand away from his wrist so he could go as fast and hard as he wanted, and you completely relaxed against him as he did so. Your head was laying back on his shoulder, and he had a great view of your pleasured face. 

You came so fast he wanted to laugh at you - but the view was hot, your moans were as loud as he liked, and he wasn’t going to complain about getting you off. 

“Are you done?” he asked, condescending as ever. 

“Yeah,” you replied, breathless. “Thank you.” 

“Now I have to get up and wash my hand,” he grumbled, climbing over you to stumble to the dark bathroom. 

He was honestly just getting up to piss, but he’d rather put the blame on you. Besides, he was grateful you’d be able to sleep now. And just like he expected, when he got back to bed, you were already fast asleep.

-

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 15: dirty talk 

#kinktober 2019 #kinktober #will add tags later

[lunarthedragon]

Demon!Jaskier Part 5

Previous Part: here | Ao3: here

+++

He doesn’t remember where he started. Or where he ended.

He stands in the middle of a glorious-unending-miserable-fascinating existence with no brackets on either side.

He thinks his earliest memory is of a cave - or is it his last? - with a child crying and bleeding and dead-but-not, hurt in a way that can only be inflicted by others.

The child cries to the cave and the cave answers. “You poor thing,” it says, pity and sadness rolling out like tumbling stones. “They have hurt you, those monsters. Those humans.”

“They won’t stop,” sobs the child. The child’s eyes are not older than their body like so many poems claim they should be. They are just abused and hurt and begging for answers that can never come.

“They won’t… But I can make you greater.”

His first-last memory, and he does not remember if he was the voice in the cave or the child.

+++

“How often does that happen?” Geralt asks when they set up camp a few miles away from the mountain. He’s been quiet in a way he’s usually not. Considering. Worrying. Restraining.

Jaskier looks at him from across the fire, confused as to what the Witcher means. “Does what happen often?”

“Earlier,” Geralt says, then hesitates. He swallows. His discomfort feels like an itch that can’t be reached, deep under the skin, turning red. “On the mountain.”

“Have I been yelled at by an idiot before? Yes,” he drawls, expression bland, and Geralt flinches and looks away. There is still a tsunami coming, Jaskier refuses to be it, but he is still allowed his retribution.

“After that…” Geralt says lowly, looking at the fire and not Jaskier.

“When I was upset?” He clarifies, finding himself surprised, and furrows his brow. Geralt nods. “You’ve seen me upset before…”

“Not like that.”

Cracking. Ripping. Screaming without noise. Bleeding from a heart that doesn’t want to beat.

“Ah… that…” He looks to the fire too. “Do you feel worried?” It would just be his luck that after so many years, after taking a step towards healing, Geralt would start to look at him like all the others have before.

“Should I be?” Geralt asks, leaning forward just a bit, his eyes narrowing. “Are you hurt?”

“What?” Jaskier looks over at the Witcher, surprised, because what does his wellbeing have to do with this?

Unless that’s exactly what this entire conversation has been about and he was blinded – tying the cloth over his own eyes, ignore, flee, don’t be a fucking hypocrite – and he feels like a complete idiot.

Geralt worries. Worries about Jaskier when he doesn’t have to. Never has to. But he does. Jaskier should be used to it by now but it still sends his insides churning. Burning. Fluttering. Collapsing.

“No, Geralt,” Jaskier says, a smile, sad but honest and loving, growing on his face, “I’m not hurt.”

He pauses, making sure he has Geralt’s eyes, his attention. “Not anymore.”

The stutter that twitches around Geralt’s edges is sudden and shocking, surprising both men, until sunlight curves through the new cracks like rays through a canopy.

Jaskier recognizes it as relief and so, so, so much love it puts his own songs to shame.

+++

Sometimes Jaskier flickers, twitches, and is yanked to a new corner of the universe. He doesn’t know what causes it, if it is himself or something else, but he doesn’t question it anymore.

It is common. Every few centuries classifies as a normal occurrence for him.

He tells Ciri that, once, and she giggles. She doesn’t giggle much after she lost her parents, but Jaskier has helped regrow the response in her lungs. Cultivate her happiness and love and cover her in affections royals are often denied.

Calanthe makes a point of telling him off, in front of other important – posturing, selfish, egotistical, cruel – people, but afterwards the guards mysteriously begin turning a blind eye to the bard that appears in their halls.

“What kind of places are you pulled to?” Ciri asks eagerly, her big eyes twinkling in interest, her dolls momentarily forgotten.

“All kinds,” Jaskier sighs wistfully, putting on a dramatic show of his exploits, “Sometimes forests. Sometimes plains. Sometimes oceans. Always for a reason.”

“What reason?”

“I don’t know until I’m done,” he replies, tapping his chin.

“How do you know you need to do anything, then?” Ciri looks confused and pouty, like she doesn’t really believe Jaskier, but he just smiles back at her.

“Sometimes all we have is a feeling. Deep in our gut. In the back of our skull. Hovering over our shoulder. We can’t see it, we’ve never heard of it, it has never been felt before. We must follow it, though, so that we may one day give it a name. Have you ever had these feelings before?”

“I… think so…” Ciri says hesitantly, her tiny face turning downward, her whole essence, so sharply radiant, dimming to shivers-fear-anxiety-deep breath after deep breath. Too tiny a response to too large a girl. “They get scary…”

“Do you fear your fingers and toes?”

“What?” Ciri looks up, blooms of lilies in her surprised smile. She is the smell of flowers on a breeze and Jaskier hates for it to sour. “Of course not!” she giggles, the breeze making windchimes jingle.

“What about your joy? Your laugh?”

“No!” Ciri keeps giggling, finding entertainment in the bard’s seemingly random, ridiculous questions.

“It’s such a silly thought, isn’t it?” Jaskier smiles to the music of the little girl’s laughter, “To be afraid of a piece of yourself? So, then, why fear the thing you have yet to name?”

Ciri pauses, a twitch of her face, and then she is pouting again. Thoughtful. Like a scholar but not quite.

“Do not fear a piece of yourself, even when it is new. Learn it. Understand it. Give it a name,” his fingers twitch, black under the fingernails, “And move on.”

+++

When Nilfgaard makes a move for Cintra Jaskier feels it. He feels it like a surge, cracking and tumbling levies so carefully constructed by the hearts of man. Boarders, unseen in the earth but respected nonetheless, shatter and crumble to dust, obliterated under the war drums and thunderous rage.

Manifest destiny thrums through the army, tasting of bitter weeds the doctor claims are herbs. A placebo for their righteous arrogance.

Jaskier’s seen it so many times before and his hackles rise, teeth bared on armor-clad throats, his fury personal and unbiased all in one.

The army is like the nail in the coffin that splits the wood. The final judgement for something that already came and went. Opening the box for Schrödinger’s cat but the box is already empty.

They are like a tsunami, Cintra’s army going out to meet them like the receding tide.

He screams, blood in his teeth, frost in his claws, and he is gone.

+++

“What are you doing in here?” Jaskier asks when he stands in front of the bars of a cell. The thrum above him is familiar – thin spaces for him to hide in, squeeze through, smelling familiar and alien with grief – and he doesn’t know how long he’s been gone.

“You’ve been gone a while,” Geralt says, eyes shut in meditation despite his mind snapping straight, like a soldier, the moment Jaskier reappeared.

And… apparently, he’d been gone for “a while.” Lovely, Geralt, thank you very much.

“I felt the Cintran army move where they shouldn’t,” he replies honestly, glancing around. No guard has noticed him yet.

“Fuck,” Geralt curses, opening his eyes and standing. He is agitated but not surprised. Disappointed. It hangs in the air like moss cracking the foundation of his bones. It always makes the base of his ribcage hurt, the muscles tight.

“They will die. I can feel it,” he continues. The void that feels like him is large as a chasm, opened under the feet of the soldiers, but they are too distracted by purpose to notice. A tear rolls down his cheek, staining his skin like soot, as the vibrant twin stars of Calanthe and Eist are engulfed.

“I have to find the princess,” Geralt says urgently, stepping towards the bars of his cage. Wrong. Wrong. A wolf does not belong in a cage. In a prison. It makes Jaskier’s chest hurt for a different reason. “Can you get me out of—” Geralt reaches to grasp the bars, likely to lean towards Jaskier, but his hand finds nothing and he stumbles forward into his freedom.

Jaskier raises his hands, grasping Geralt’s arms to steady him even though it isn’t needed.

Geralt blinks back at the cell, freed of the metal confinements, then looks back to Jaskier. “Do you just pick and choose when you help me?” he asks blandly.

“Depends,” Jaskier replies, voice thinned by the grind of his misery, the urge to rip out the pain in his gut a tempting pull, but he swallows down stones to keep moving. He is distant, but he is here.

“Ciri is in her room,” he says, “Hold your breath.”

They are there, and then they are not, and then they are there again but somewhere else. Geralt stumbles, hands flying up to grasp his own head, pain like a ringing bell trilling out his ears. Jaskier lays a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the startled cries around them.

“Sorry. It was quickest,” he apologizes to the Witcher.

“That’s what that feels like?” Geralt groans in disbelief, the tumbling of an avalanche in his stomach that wants to come up, up, up.

Geralt gags once, then swallows, and forces himself to stand straight and not glare at Jaskier too hard.

“Jaskier!” comes a gleeful voice and the bard swings around, arms already out, to catch the laughing princess as she runs at him.

“My favorite princess!” Jaskier replies just as gleefully and for a moment he fills into his own cracks, fitting back together again, but only for a moment.

“Geralt…” Mousesack says thinly, standing just behind the princess and eying the Witcher nervously. “You’re here.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hums, not sounding pleased at all, and giving the druid a glare that screams, ‘no thanks to you.’ Jaskier should know. He speaks Geralt’s facial language.

“You’re not stopping us,” Jaskier says firmly, stepping away from the princess just enough to look at Mousesack.

“She needs to be protected,” Geralt says, his voice holding more natural authority than Jaskier’s, which is helpful. “I can protect her. I should have done so much earlier.”

“What’s going on?” Ciri questions, looking around the room for answers before settling on Mousesack, her eyes confused and desperate. There is a tang to the air, sharp and bitter, left in the wake of the army’s departure, and it sits especially heavy on Ciri’s back.

A presence without a name.

“Princess Cirilla,” Mousesack begins slowly, anxious, and Jaskier tilts his head, his eyes turning black and veins bleeding under his neck and fingers.

“Tell her,” he bares his teeth – too many teeth, too sharp – and Mousesack and the nearby guard stutter, falter, retreat without moving. “You all should have told her so much sooner.”

“You had just as much an opportunity to say something,” the guard, only mildly familiar, like a face in a dream, says vindictively.

“That was not my duty.”

A heavy hand lays on his shoulder and he takes a breath, loud and long, until the room tilts and he stops. He raises his own hand to pat Geralt’s, like the eye of a storm, calm amidst the turmoil.

“Too many fingers,” Geralt says lowly, before releasing him and stepping forward. Jaskier looks down at his hands, counts eighteen, then shakes them out. When he counts ten, he thinks he’s got it right.

The conversation has been continuing on around him and he looks up, pulls the words that have already been thrown into the silence into him so he might understand what he missed, and steps forward. Ciri looks shocked and lost, but there is so much worse under her skin. Hidden under a poorly placed rug.

“We have three days,” he says abruptly, feeling how the void closes in and changes course. A crack is forming under the city and he knows it will be next.

“Take a day to do what needs to be done,” Geralt says, looking to Mousesack, no longer asking. “After that we can at least be two days ahead of Nilfgaard.”

Mousesack looks to Ciri, clearly torn, pulled between his duty and his knowledge-belief-morality. Ciri looks back, pulled between her duty and her anger-confusion-anguish.

Jaskier looks between them and knows how this must end, and they all know too. Cintra is already lost. The only thing they can do now is minimize their losses.

“You know what needs to be done,” Geralt says lowly, mostly to the druid, while Jaskier’s eyes flicker to Ciri, her body stiff as her insides shatter.

“In the meantime,” the bard says, stepping up and hooking his arm with Geralt’s, his eyes back to blue and a gentle smile on his face, “We will wait in the guestroom down the hall. Sort through this as needed. You have some time.”

He pulls Geralt out of the room grudgingly, swift steps against sluggish minds. The beginning to the end to the beginning.

+++

“H̵e̵l̶l̷o̷,̶ ̴D̵u̶n̷y̵,” he greets on an echo, standing in an office while armies clash vassals and provinces away.

The man, well-groomed and well-dressed, behind the desk looks up. He is familiar but not. Not quite right. Not quite wrong. He doesn’t flinch at Jaskier’s sudden appearance, as if he’s had a few years to get used to it.

”Did you know everyone thinks you’re dead? Buried under the waves with Pavetta?” the bard continues, a bit more solid, a bit more himself. He stands in the corner of the room, dark and larger than the space he occupies. There is no gleam of eyes or shimmer or pale skin. He is darkness, absence, void.

He is furious.

“I am ‘Duny’ no longer,” says the man, voice aristocratic and booming. Like a toddler in a cathedral. “I am Emhyr var Emreis. White Fla—”

”White Flame of Nilfgaard. Yes, yes, I know. Spare me.”

Duny, because Jaskier refuses to call him anything more, straightens up, eyes thinned. “Careful, demon. Cintra may have disregarded me, but here I am seen as a proper king.”

“I preferred you as a hedgehog,” Jaskier twists, like a tilted head without the head. The shadows in the room grow longer, reaching for the torches and pinching them out like candles. “Or dead, for that matter.”

“I know your weaknesses, demon,” Duny continues, confidence where intellect should be. “I know what will draw you short. Years in that castle and you did not expect me to take something from your visits and stories?”

Another torch is pinched out and Jaskier spreads, poison in the veins, madness in a crowd.

“I could snuff you out with a snap of my fingers,” Duny continues and from the depths of the shadows teeth are bared, thinned into a smile. And then another. And another.

“I could snuff you out with less than that,” he says just beside Duny’s ear and finally the monarch jerks, startled, and stands. He glares back at the shadows, uncertain which are real and which are scripted.

He bares his teeth, blunt and rounded, and hot coals fueling his justice shake, uncertain. “Nilfgaard brings prosperity to these people.”

“Nilfgaard brings death,” Jaskier huffs, unimpressed, voice resounding through the room, everywhere-but-nowhere, wrong-but-right. A hand slowly creeps onto the top of the desk, black as night, staining the wood like ink. Then another. And another.

A hand wraps around Duny’s ankle and he seizes back, eyes wide, and the shadows surge forward. A massive, crumbling, broken face presses towards the monarch, only vaguely reminiscent of a human. A mirror. Cracked and honest.

“I allow you to live today only for what you once were,” he says, massive jaw moving, unhinged and broken, dripping onto the floor. ”But if we meet again, if you do not make a change, I will not hesitate in plucking every bone from your body like feathers from a chicken. Your arteries will be my strings and you can finally, properly, play the part of puppet to your predecessors.”

Duny stares back at him, blood run thinner and thinner, skin beginning to sag, cartilage turning brittle. Decaying where he stands.

The massive face tilts, morphing like a smile, and the laugh that bursts out shivers the walls like cold on skin. Dewdrops form like goosebumps. “Ah, did you hear that alliteration at the end there? I didn’t even do that on purpose! How lovely,” and then he’s releasing the man, retreating and compressing back into the corner, a thing so unknown his shape has no name.

“There must be rules,” Duny suddenly says, moving forward, leaning against his desk until his weight creaks the bones. Something shifts the way it shouldn’t and he straightens up, clutching his hand as pain, pain, pain thrums out of his throat.

”Oopsie,” Jaskier sing-songs, smirking with no mouth but too many as well. “Feeling fragile there?”

“There must be rules,” Duny repeats, clutching his hand, then falling back into his seat when his legs threaten to crack and bend. “Something as ancient as you… There must be rules against interfering with our politics. Our history.”

Finally, the dictator was understanding just how much of a threat he was under. How little chance his armies stood if the entity before him, around him, within him, actually decided they should be eradicated.

Jaskier takes a step forward, pushing out of black, inky shadows like mud, his eyes pitch black.

”Oh, my dear rodent,” he says, lips unmoving, purring like bug wings. ”It is because I’m so ancient that I don’t waste my time with rules in the first place.”

+++

When Queen Calanthe returns to Cintra it is to empty streets and houses. Barren walkways and stores. Buildings frozen in their last moments of life.

The city is a whisper in a vacant corridor.

Soldiers bring the injured queen up to her chambers, castle a skeleton of its former glory, where Jaskier stands alone.

“Your people have been evacuated,” he tells the queen as she is laid out. He looks up at the soldiers. “You should leave, too.”

“We will not abandon Cintra,” says a man in a captain’s uniform.

“Then you die for nothing.”

“Cintra will fall…” Calanthe heaves and Jaskier sets a hand on her stomach. A wound opens on his own center, bleeding black and red, pain taken from the powerful woman momentarily. He cannot heal this wound. It is already filled with void and death and endings. He cannot remove himself.

“Cintra will fall,” he agrees.

“But the people live on,” the Queen ripples, a stone into a pond, and her pain turns to relief. She orders the last of her soldiers to go after their people and live to fight another day.

“Mousesack leads them,” Jaskier explains, almost conversationally, dripping with Calanthe’s pain alongside her.

“And Cirilla?”

“Geralt has her. I will join them after. We will not allow her to fall.”

“Keep her safe,” Calanthe orders, weak and strong all at once, and dewdrops form in the corners of her vision. Jaskier reaches over to wipe them away. A strong woman allowed her weakness. “Keep her laughing.”

“We can do that.”

Silence. A thunderous wave in the distance. Closing in.

“I will fall with my city,” Calanthe says when the drums can be heard. Jaskier releases a breath and it comes out shaking. The Queen reaches up a hand to wipe dewdrops from his eyes in return.

“Yes,” he says, looking to the window, pinpricks of torches amidst the swarm on the horizon. “But so will they.”

A wicked, vicious, vengeful smile pulls at Calanthe’s lips and her hand flops back down.

“Good.”

+++

When the army fills the empty streets of Cintra, blades aloft but bloodless, the final, manic laughter of Queen Calanthe fills the air. A surge for the castle marks their end.

Hands, black as shadows, large as mountains, stretch across the sky. Earth shatters like glass, buildings tumble like dominos, and the city falls, crumbles, cries.

The hands press down against screams, loud like an explosion, roaring like a fire, and crush.

The tsunami comes and goes and all that is left of Cintra is a fissure, a crater.

A void.

+++

He stands on the edge of the destruction, death licking at his feet and charring the grass brown.

There is nothing left. No army. No city. No castle. No queen.

The pain that blossoms has him reaching for his chest but he stops short. He wants to crush his heart, demand it stop this torture, but he can’t. Not when he holds a soul in his ribcage, dragged inside before she perished, before she was pulled somewhere not even he could reach.

A chance at another life. A promise at another attempt. Another cycle.

“I will only do this for you once, your majesty,” he says lowly, weak in every piece of himself. The essence flutters, strong as an ox and stubborn as a weed. If he isn’t careful she may even take root in his ribs.

He reaches out, searching for an empty vessel just as he does for himself, and releases her upon latching onto a stillborn little girl in the far, far eastern lands across the sea.

A new beginning. A new chance. Separate from this anguish and—

He cries out when something comes slicing through his hand.

He falls, black ripples pulsing out of him so violently his body tears and falls apart. Clutching his hand, an agony so racking it sends his screams into a new octave, the trees dying, pillars of magma erupting around him.

The earth bleeds with him, screaming and crying, clouds spiraling like vultures.

A glowing, white arrow pierces all the way through his right hand, burning out, out, out, the light as sharp as its tip.

A holy arrow.

No…

He scrambles, trying to rebuild his hands, collapsing and crashing, rippling and spiking with every pulse of torture like a heartbeat.

He cannot pull out the arrow, he simply falls apart around it. He sobs, the pain still tearing through him, and he can’t remember what eyes are, what hands are, what bodies are.

“Hello, J̷̖̯͎͍̗̐̉̑̈́á̸̛̮̠̫͇͒̑̕͘͜ș̵̨͈̲͖͔͖̄͑̆̿̒̀̀̍͐͝k̵̡͈̩̮͚̆ȉ̷̡̧̫̘̼͓̱̥͠e̷͔̖̍̾̊͌̈́̕̕͠r̸̛̞̙̀̅̾̔̌͛̒,” says the entity behind him and he looks, twists, forces himself into a reality he does not belong.

A single figure stands in the center of the crater that was once Cintra, yet his voice sounds as if he is right beside Jaskier. Or Jaskier is right beside him. He wears armor, black, with a helmet like a bird. In his hand is a bow and on his back a quiver, filled with arrows that glow as if forged by dying stars.

A snarl ripples over the decimated landscape, deep as the churn of the abyss. Jaskier rises, pain making him spark and jolt but fury making him burn.

He pulls at the other, tears and rips until he finds the name for the body it now possesses. Severs it from the silence.

“C̷̘̦͇̣̟͚̦͗͐̊͊̚͘a̶̖̖̰͙̭͎̝̾ͅḧ̷̫̹͈́i̵̡͖̗̦͈͖͛ͅr̵̹͇͆̔̓̈͊͑̊̔̌̚,” he booms. His brethren. His enemy. Himself.

Death – Death come to collect – Death weeping – Death free of its bonds – Death hungry, hungry, hungry – Death – Rebirth – Death –

Black eyes stare back at him.

“How dare you wield that weapon against me,” Jaskier rattles, gnashing teeth. He remembers teeth. He needs more teeth. He makes more teeth until they dig into the earth, sparking new spurts of molten stone.

”Times are changing,” replies Cahir, a cold whisper, frost inching across the ground towards the rushes of magma that still crack and bleed around Jaskier. ”There are no new challenges in these worlds and I am bored.”

”Bored of constant change? Of life?” Jaskier argues back, stepping forward, leaving a print on the ground that glows hot. It isn’t human. He doesn’t know what it is.

”It is time for an end. For all of us,” Cahir sighs, wistfully, and raises his bow. He takes an arrow, the smell of burning flesh and sulfur sparking through the air where he grasps the holy weapon, and notches it.

Black eyes take aim and Jaskier surges back, searching, latching, and pulling.

The arrow is released but he is gone before it can make another landing.

+++

When he tumbles into the gathering hall at Aretuza he gags and vomits out black. His hand, and it is a hand again, glows like fire from the hole that goes straight through it, stinking of sulfur and blood and the vacuum of space.

There are cries around him and he pulses, trying to retake his shape, rebuild himself, and he thinks he might be close but not entirely right. Cracks cross over his face, chest, limbs, glowing like the wound in his hand, like the earth beneath him.

“Jaskier!” comes a familiar voice by his ear and he clings onto Yennefer when she crouches beside him. He must be a sight if even she sounds so frightened. That’s usually Geralt’s job.

”I’m sorry,” he sobs, the black tears falling from his eyes burn against his skin, like ice shards. ”Couldn’t let Geralt or Ciri see me like this… Please… help…”

“What is going on?” comes another female voice, powerful as Yennefer’s but not her. Jaskier is too exhausted to pull out her name.

“Your hand?” Yennefer asks him, then lower so only he can hear, “A holy weapon?” He nods, at least he thinks he does. His awareness slips away like water, oil staining his insides, unable to be rid of.

“I need to help him. Move!” the sorceress orders, the strength in her voice, power in her presence, returning like a crack of thunder.

“Hold on just a moment,” comes a male voice and, unfortunately, Jaskier does know who that is, memory of the man bleeding on Geralt’s mind, loud and miserable.

”Fuck you, Stregobor,” he hisses, high as a kettle, vicious as a beast, before his consciousness comes to an abrupt stop.

+++

Let me know what y’all thought! Hope you enjoyed!

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #geralt #geraskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer #demon jaskier #creature jaskier #nonhuman jaskier #fanfic

[21-torpedo-salvo]

Cylinder-fed

You hope it isn’t obvious how closely you’ve been watching him. You hope your line of sight is obscured by the stale mug of coffee you drink deeply from, that the fog on your lenses is enough to distract from you tracking him in your periphery. Yet, despite the anxiety, the fear of being caught, you cannot bring yourself to look away. This was your first time seeing him in a lab, after all, and the difference was… startling, to say the least.

You knew, on some level, that he was more than hot air, but his bastard-like demeanor compelled you to discount him on principle. He was abrasive and cruel at times, wielding his words with a sharper intelligence than your second other, and that did not completely go away as he rounded on Dr. Magnusson with a vengeance. Your eyes linger on the way his muscles bulge underneath the lab coat, the white fabric pulled taut as he gesticulates broadly at a whiteboard.

Eventually, he ceases shouting, quieted by a smug contentment curling his scarred lips into a smile. He takes his scattered array of papers into his arms and leaves, but his eyes narrow on you, tension snapping back into his frame. He stalks toward you, purposeful and intent. You feel lightheaded with how the world suddenly locks back into place.

“Hey, hey, what are you lookin’ at? You’ve been staring at me all day, Freeman. What’s with that?”

You flounder for an answer. Of course he’d have noticed-- he was paranoia given body. And you didn’t bother to think of a liable excuse, so now you’re just staring at him, throat burning with the aftereffects of a too-big gulp of coffee.

“Oh, I get it,” Freemind says, eyes sparkling. “You want a piece of me. You think I’m hot when you’re not calling me an insufferable asshole, right?”

“You’re a dick,” you sign, suddenly exasperated. Paranoid and egotistical. How could you forget?

“And yet,” Freemind laughs. “So what have you been working on, Freeman?”

You step back as Freemind shifts his weight, conspicuously arranging his broad frame across your one exit. Your mind flashes to the crowbar slung at your hip, hidden beneath the lab coat, and the gun hanging heavy in your right pocket. There’s a dozen different solutions to your entrapment itching at your fingertips but you execute none of them, opting instead to stare blankly ahead, wound up like a snake.

It works, after a time. Freemind has the grace to look apologetic-- or something approximate-- as he leans to the side, arms crossed against his chest. His brow is still cocked expectantly, but his expression is softer. You relax.

“We’re still working on long-distance teleportation,” you say carefully. “It’s easier now that we have a target. But the recipient is using a Combine teleporter that they’re having trouble with.”

“That’s a shame. I’m guessin’ that’s what Alyx got roped into working on?” Freemind asks. “Man, we were havin’ fun stealing antlion grubs.”

You shrug noncommittally. You think the friendship he and Alyx have is strange when Freemind can barely interact with Barney. Besides, she was far more useful teaching the rest of humanity Combine tech than messing with antlions.

“Even less talkative today, then,” Freemind says after you fail to respond. “Well, I’ve got shit to do. See ya.”

With that, Freemind leaves, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck as he goes. You watch him walk past his desk and out of the lab entirely. Yet, before he’s out of sight, he twists on his heel and flashes a sign at you. The universal gesture for “follow.”

You take a deep breath. Did Freemind look disappointed just before he left? Did he want you to elaborate on your work? No, it couldn’t be that. He already knew your work-- he made it a point to keep up on it, even as he focused on something else entirely. Something else was up. You wanted to know what.

Leaving your coffee behind, you gather up your things and make for the door, pushing your glasses up your nose as you do. Freemind is lingering at the end of the hall, chatting loudly to a guard. When he sees you, he claps their shoulder and disappears around the bend, forcing you to chase after him. Somehow, he manages to always stay just out of sight. You’re following his raucous voice more than his ponytail.

He strings you along the network of guards stationed throughout White Forest. You pass the cafeteria, where you see him walking out with a handful of headcrab jerky, a strip dangling from his mouth. He flashes you a toothy snarl rather than a smile as he forges on, back into the complex. You wonder why the hell you’re following him.

It’s not like you care about his antics. He’s mean, unruly toward even Dr. Kleiner, and does things that would have gotten him arrested should things like formal law still exist. He’s not even that pretty-- musclebound, sure, and tall, with a mouth full of sharp teeth he won’t share the story about. Maybe he has a pretty green eye, but so did you, and if you keep thinking about this you’re going to feel like one hell of a narcissist.

Maybe that was your problem. You were just a narcissist.

So deep in your thinking, you hardly notice that the trail’s gone dry-- superheated into nothingness by Freemind’s presence. He’s lounging on a bench, a revolver in his hand-- empty, if the row of bullets arranged nearby are any indicator-- and belt already undone.

You stare, bewildered. He doesn’t seem to notice you as he shucks off his lab coat and folds it neatly on the other end of the bench, laying it over the discarded shells. The shirt he’s wearing is a little small, riding up to reveal his stomach with just the leaning motion.

Then he talks.

“Good job! On following me this far, that is. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you even did,” he says, smiling. “I’ve got a proposition for you. Well, not even that. I had this wicked dream last night that’s been bothering me all day. Do you want to help me out?”

Huh. Wait, huh?

You try to say something, but mostly just wave your hands around, signs aborted before even coming to fruition. In the end, you just gesture at him forcefully, hoping the heat in your face isn’t noticeable.

To your surprise, Freemind seems to take pause, chewing on his bottom lip in the way he does when he’s doubtful on something. Then he licks his lip, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before apparently finding his words, eye flicking up to pin you down.

“I—” Freemind raises the revolver by the barrel, waving the butt-- “am going to use this to get off. You’re welcome to watch, if you want. That’s how the dream went.”

Oh.

You’re not sure what else you were expecting. You stare at each other for a long moment, the silence suddenly thick and tense.

“If you don’t want to watch, then you can leave. I am going to get myself off right here no matter what you choose, though, so… Your loss, really,” Freemind finishes.

With that, he raises his hips, sliding his pants down until they bunched around his ankles. You’re more surprised than you should be by the fact that he’s gone commando, and is apparently already soaked, if the state of his cunt is anything to go by. He makes a low sound as he takes the head of his dick and rolls it beneath his thumb.

“I’ll stay,” you sign, though you’re unsure why because he’s already gotten this far and you haven’t left yet. He knows you’re staying-- he knows it because he’s arching his back and exposing more of his hips and grinning at you luridly beneath hooded eyes.

Freemind doesn’t stifle a groan as he slides his free hand further down, shoving his fingers without preamble into his cunt. He shifts his hips, settling forward so that they sink deeper inside him, tongue hanging past his lips as they move wordlessly.

Your face is burning. Your hands shake as you slip off your own lab coat, letting it fall gracelessly onto the floor around your feet. This wasn’t how you were expecting your day to go, but you’re also not against it. Freemind looks good, fucking himself on his fingers. He even looks relaxed.

When Freemind removes his hand, it’s coated. He licks it clean, slipping his tongue between his fingers, saliva glinting in strings off his tongue and lips. A dark flush has started to creep across his neck, darkest where his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His shirt rides further up his torso, exposing skin marred by HEV lines and old scars.

“You look like you want to help,” Freemind says roughly. “Or touch yourself. Ohh, I’d love that. You should touch yourself, Freeman, while you watch me get off. That’d be hot.”

Your hands tighten into fists, twisting up the fabric of your pants. You do think about touching yourself-- about fishing your cock out from your pants and bringing it up to full hardness, about finishing on Freemind’s face while he fucks himself on his revolver, while he says stupid shit-- oh, you could shut him up for once, if he just put his mouth on you.

“Don’t be shyyy about it,” Freemind drawls. “Come on. I can see your cock. Those pants don’t hide much, Freeman.”

Your skin prickles with something like irritation. Roughly, you unzip your pants and yank them down, boxers and all. Your dick is already plenty hard-- standing at attention, leaning a little to the left, flushed pink. Freemind whistles.

“Touch yourself,” Freemind says, and it sounds like a command. “And don’t take your eyes off me. Eyes up.”

You wrap your hand-- tough, calloused, scarred-- around the base of your dick, squeezing gently. You do look at him, much to your chagrin, and gape openly at the sight. He’s got the gun grasped by the barrel, the grip wedged between his legs. There’s a practiced ease in how he slots the weapon in himself-- a relieved, desperate sort of sound that leaks out of him as he pushes it further inside.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Eyes on me. Follow my lead, Freeman.”

Using the bench as a stabilizer, Freemind rocks himself over the handle, thighs visibly trembling with the effort. He’s shameless in his motions, making them full-bodied, and unabashed with his noises. It seems he’s vocal, no matter what he’s doing.

The thought makes you stroke yourself faster. You take a step toward him, shuffling so as to not trip over your own pants. When he doesn’t stop you, you continue to approach, fixated on how red his lips are against white teeth.

“This is even better than the dream,” Freemind moans.

The gun seems to disappear deeper inside him with every rock. Freemind moves faster, chasing the rush of impending orgasm with a vengeance. His expression is twisted, face flushed with exertion.

Your own pace is growing erratic. Follow his pace, indeed-- you reach out to grab his head and dig your fingers into his scalp, eager to hold onto something that isn’t yourself for balance. It brings your hips to eye-level; you make a show of thrusting into your fist.

“Oh, much better,” Freemind says thickly. “Look at you... You’re that hard for me. Looks like I’m not the only narcissist here, eh?”

How can he talk so much? You growl in the back of your throat and grab a fistful of his hair. His confidence turns into shock as you grind your cock against his cheek, smearing pre-cum into his beard and eyepatch. Then he grins, a shark’s caricature, and licks a stripe up to the tip of your dick.

He takes it into his mouth of his own accord. You thrust forward, not wanting to give him time to adjust but he adapts to it, slackening his jaw and following your meter exactly. His eye rolls back at one point, a muffled, heinous moan sending vibrations to the base of your cock as he grows overwhelmed by you and the gun in his cunt.

So badly you wish to talk, but your throat doesn’t make noise, so you dig your fingernails into his scalp and keep his head in place. The bench creaks ominously as Freemind moves even faster, eye screwing shut, so close to climax. He seems to gag a little, your rhythms’ falling out of sync, but still he doesn’t stop.

You’re getting close yourself-- you can feel it, coiling tight in your belly. Your muscles are aching from holding yourself like this, but you ignore it. Freemind’s mouth is hot and wet and finally silent as he sucks you off. Looking down on him, he looks utterly blissed out, and that fact alone is enough to make you cum.

Your only warning to him is a broken keen and erratic thrusts down his throat. Judging by how he grabs onto your hips, fingernails dragging into the flesh, he must have already came himself-- and is eagerly swallowing yours, mewling as he does so. When you finish, he slides his mouth off with a wet pop.

Excess spit dribbles past his lip and hangs from a string between your cock. It snaps a second later, becoming a glistening wet trail down his chin. Panting heavily, Freemind leans against the wall, the gun laid flat beside him.

Messy, is the only thing you can think. And way too fucking good. You grab his shoulder as you drop down onto the bench beside him, squeezing tightly the muscle there.

“That,” Freemind starts, “was fucking perfect.”

You snort, but nod in agreement.

He turns to look at you. His expression is… unreadable, an unfamiliar sight. It’s softer, maybe. You realize why when he leans in close and presses a short kiss to your mouth.

“Thanks, Freeman,” he murmurs. “Let’s try that again sometime.”

You nod, caught off-guard.

#life half #my writing

[prorevenge]

Bully me for four years, I'll make sure you go nowhere in life.

I apologize for the unusually long back story TL; DR at the bottom.

So to understand all of what I'm going to write its important to understand that I was bullied heavily in school. I have talked now and again about it here in the past and understanding this is important to understand why this person effected me so much. After leaving school things started to get better, it took me a while to recover with the help of some great friends. At one point I needed to start looking for work. At this point, it was 2005 - 06. Things weren't going so well in the job market around my area and being broke I couldn't just leave for better pastures so I ended up joining the army instead. It didn't last (that's another story), what's important happened after. While I was away my friend's group picked up a couple more nerds for the crew. Among these was useless bully (or UB for short). Thing is that this guy was a gamer like everyone else for the exception of one large quark. He was very egotistical and really liked talking shit. It didn't take long for him to single me out, it really does seem like bullies can sniff out what they call a good target. He really likes to talk shit, often crossing the line between common bullcrappery and real insults. It was obvious he didn't seem to like me but for some reason liked having me around. Some of my other friends even noticed and tried getting him to stop but he took it like a badge of honor, even told me so himself once. I'm not going to get any deeper about what he did as its not the point of this story.

So now you ask why did I stick around and why did my friends put up with such a douchebag. Well, for one thing, I knew my friends far longer then he was around and they were fine. They themselves weren't good at conflict and UB was very smart. He knew exactly what to say to skirt around things if needed. So part of the time they would enable him and the rest he knew how to manipulate them so they would give a pass. It was an abuse cycle, he would act like an asshat one moment and the next to be all nice, in the end, they got too used to this and became a little blind to what he was doing.

But let's continue. I'll start with one particular event that started it all. As anyone who knows me knows, I'm a computer geek. I like to work on them, build them and so on, and it's important to know that so does UB. Like a typical bully, he labeled me as incompetent in all things and treated me accordingly. So to him, I am not even a novice, even though by the time I met him I already started building. Enter that key moment. One night after a night of LOL (League of Legends) I decided to ask the guys something. I asked him and the rest what the L cache was for a CPU. Something I didn't know yet at the time. He, of course, blew me off. Later that night I googled it and while doing so I had an epiphany. Just because UB refused to be helpful shouldn't mean I can't be. So I started offering help at work, beginning with word of mouth then over time I went freelance and time marched on. I eventually moved away met my now wife and broke ties with UB. I kept up with some of my friends though, if they wanted to be friends with him I didn't care as long as they respected the fact that we won't be going near each other.

Time still passed, I got better as a freelancer and eventually earned my way into a legit IT job in my home town. Things are great, one of my dream jobs. Eventually, the shit hit the fan when not long ago my co-worker got fired for doing something he shouldn't have done. (Don't ask, I'm not going to post any info about it.) This of course left a spot open. In the search for a replacement, I offered the spot to one of my friends who declined, but through him, as I found later, UB found out. Low and behold a couple of applicants later he showed up for an interview. My boss sets these up and would take my exco-worker to the interviews, but now I fill that role. So when UB showed up I was surprised, I kept my cool though and so did he. It was obvious he recognized me but shown no fear. Remember this guy is really egotistical and probably thinks things are in the bag already. The interview was normal, I'll skip to the nitty-gritty here so I'll skip to the later part of the interview. Please note that any extra info trickled to me over the years was from the friends that still hang out with him.

B =Boss UB= Useless bully Me=Me and only me.

B: Do you have any experience in an independent team environment?

UB: I'm a manager at Wall-Mart and I know the ins and outs of teamwork. I can handle myself. (Note he managed the electronics and wasn't very respected)

Me: Do you have any experience with a ticket system or ordering system.

UB: No, but I think I can handle it.

Boss: On your resume, you turned in says you went to college for a degree in computer repair but you forgot to put in when. When did you get your degree?

UB: I forgot to finish that I actually finished a year ago.

I knew this was bs, he actually graduated a year before I met him so it's been over a decade by this point. At this point, I started to lay down some pressure and sow the roots of this mans demise.

Me: In your resume, it only shows you working at two different places and there is a time gap in between both of several years, can you explain that?

UB: Oh that was a typo I worked at xx place for a while, I ended up quitting and a month later I started as a manager at Wall-Mart.

Note that made that whole thing suspicious because I knew for a long time he job hopped a lot, even while we hung out he lost three jobs. He did actually get hired straight into his role at Wall-Mart but he didn't mention the job where earned his way up to that position and got fired for being an asshole to his co-workers.

Me: If a computer went down on the shop floor, how would you handle the situation?

UB: I would go down and fix it duh.

Me: What if it was completely unserviceable.

UB: No, there is nothing I can't fix.

His ego was showing through, just as I wanted. Time to start cutting this interview down to size.

Me: So if the memory were to say go bad, your telling me you could fix that?

UB: Well I'm sure I could handle it.

My boss looked at me a bit wondering about why I kept going with it but he let me continue.

UB: Don't you have replacements for memory and things?

Me: Some times.

UB: Well that's bull.

I was surprised he said that but I knew he was starting to slip. He gets mouthy when he feels his ego is being stroked even if it's just him doing the stroking.

Me: So out of your experience, would you say you are a hardware specialist or a program specialist.

UB: I can do both but I can lean towards hardware. I can fix anything you toss my way.

Me: So lets test that a bit. Boss do you have any hardware questions you want answering?

Boss: Sure, how long does a coax cable have to be before any signal degradation starts?

UB: uhhu.

He struggled, I could tell he slipped, that question is my bosses go to question because most people don't know it and he really just wants to see how they respond.

UB: I don't remember at the moment, I did some work hooking up cable for people in the past when the cable company needed some help so I'll remember it sooner or later.

MORE BS.

My boss was seeing through it to, he knows this business like the back of his hand so he knows what's up.

Boss: "Me" do you have any questions?

The sign my boss was done with the interview.Me: Sure just one last question.

I turn to UB and I grin. I look him dead in the eye and ask.

Me: So what's the purpose of the L cache of a standard CPU?

He went white, he knew the jig was up. I don't think he fully knew what I meant but he knew enough to know when to give up.

UB: I don't know that one, it was never brought up in class.

I accepted his last statement, and we ended the interview. My boss told him he would be contacted within 24 to 48 hours with any results. He left and my boss looked at me a little annoyed. He asked me what was going on and I explained it all. That I knew UB, what kind of person he was and about the lies on his resume and in the interview. I told him I just wanted to give him a chance to either mess it up or prove he could handle it. My boss is pretty understanding so he let it go. Needless to say, UB was not chosen to fill the vacant spot.

Two days later UB showed up at my door unexpected. It was Saturday and I figured he found my place through one of the others. My wife answered the door not knowing who he was. Dude fricken walked in like he owned the place. I stopped him at the front mudroom, there was no way I was going to let him in any further. Note that there was more yelling than this but I cut it down for simplification.

UB: So what the hell happened?

Me: What not even a hello how are you?

UB: I never got a callback so I called to ask and they said I didn't get the job.

Dude had a bad tone in his voice, I knew he was here just to rage. A person that egocentric always blames others and I was target numero uno.

Me: What the hell are you here for!?

UB: What the hell did you tell him about me?

Me: Nothing that wasn't true, now get the fuck out!

UB: Bullshit, I know you can't really handle that kind of work, what did you do, suck some one-off? You just didn't want around because you know I would upstage you!

Me: What the hell would you know, you wouldn't even let me talk about computers when we hung out, you just labeled me and treated me like shit. Dude, I told my boss exactly what happened, how it happened, I didn't have to lie or exaggerate. You choose to act terribly, you choose to bully someone, you choose to create a bad representation of your self, as far I see it, its just karma. If you really cared instead of barging into my house you would be trying to fix where you fucked up.

UB: I don't need to do anything, go back and fix it!

Me: Screw you get the hell out before I call the cops.

UB: I'm not afraid of them.

Me: Fine!

I yelled to my wife to call the cops, after this UB new I wasn't screwing around and left in a huff.

The aftermath so far from this is him calling everyone he could to tell them how bad of a person I am like some 14-year-old kid bitching to his classmates at school. Figures because of how immature he really is, or at least, in my opinion anyway. So far no one has taken him seriously enough and some of my friends said he is still fuming but pretty demoralized. As for the position, it has yet to filled.

TL;DR Friends introduce a bully to the group, he shits on me for four years so years later I screw him out of his dream job and a better life.

(source) story by (/u/Atlusfox)

#prorevenge #by /u/Atlusfox #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[kamwritesshit]

Velvet Violet.

Whoop, starting over again. I’ll just post whatever I want this time, lmao. Here’s something I wrote for a challenge on Amino, inspired by All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven.

Trigger mention: Suicide mention, strong language, anxiety mention

Word count: 2,156 words

Your irises were velvet violet.

That was my initial thought when I saw you on the other side, the school bell an enourmous barrier separating the two of us. Your figure was a bit small, but I could see you clearly. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear as you looked down from above. I looked down too. As expected, a crowd had gathered and they're all glancing up at us, rumours already floating amongst the sea of strangers.

It was strange, seeing you there with me on the ledge of the school's roof that can crumble at any time. Mostly because you're the most popular guy at school — and also a pretty famous actor in Japan. Sumeragi Tenma, I wondered, what brought you here? Your life's as perfect as it should be; famous, rich, popular, what more could you possibly want or need?

"You come up here often?"

I rhetorically asked, knowing damn well I'm the roof's regular customer; only customer, in fact. Pretty sure this ancient roof wasn't expecting any other visitors, let alone Sumeragi Tenma. How did you get up here, I kept wondering. I locked the door to the bell tower when I climbed up here; maybe you had some tricks up your sleeves. Wouldn't bet on that though.

I still remember how you looked to me with those wide eyes, the violet violent yet scared. Probably because it's Hyodo Juza who's calling out to you on a crumbling roof during the calm before the storm. People think I'm cynical, stoic, which I am — kinda. I've grown tired of that so I usually try to entertain myself whenever I'm up here. I thought that maybe I could've entertained you too, even if our sense of humour might differ.

You ignored my question and looked down on the others again. I sighed and inched backwards, not wanting to see or hear whatever the others were spouting about, especially because you were here with me. I could hear my classmates and homeroom teacher yelling insults at the top of their lungs while the counsellor just wanted the both of us to come down.

"Fucking Hyodo at it again!"

"Just jump off, you freak!"

"You two, please come down! It's dangerous up there!"

I flinched at every words thrown up here, as if they were bricks that could finally break the roof and grind it into dust. I, feeling tired, absentmindedly got up and went over to where you sat, jumping all over the roof to which the crowd roared. You jumped at my sudden presence as I sat down beside you. I looked down this time.

I was just that to them — a freak, a monster, a ghost and most importantly, a loner. My appearance has always been scary and everyone avoided me in the hallways but when I'm up here, unreachable, that's when they launch their missiles. I've grown to get used to it, even bored by it at times, depending on my mood. And sometimes, I'm severely affected by it.

It prompted me to actually jump off once or twice. Almost.

I only shook my head and turned my gaze to the grey horizon, searching for the answer for one simple question: what were you doing here, a territory I never meant to mark and rule? You were obviously scared; what good would it be to run up here, especially knowing damn well that Hyodo "Freak" Juza would be up here, talking to himself and occasionally looking down on students with such intense neutrality? Why—

"No."

You mumbled, to my surprise. What surprised me more was the fact that you mumbled the answer to my question. I even chuckled because we both obviously knew the answer to that question. You immediately glanced at me as if I was crazy. And according to almost everyone at school, that pretty much sums up my whole character, apparently. If they think I'm crazy, then you must be weirded out by the fact that I'm not in a mental asylum.

"Of course not. I'm the only one who comes up here."

I replied, adding another chuckle. I could see that you were resisting the urge to smile too but I made no comment. You nodded in agreement and looked down again as I lied down despite the protests from my back. The sky was grey, just how I liked it. But instead of continuing to look at the sky, I looked at you and how your body shivered, whether it was from the pre-storm chill or fear. I wanted to offer you my jacket but 1) you probably wouldn't want it and 2) that's probably gay.

Still, your body sagged and you seemed...lifeless, which was a rare sight. What happened to the high and mighty Sumeragi Tenma everyone knows and loves? Something was definitely up; the only reason I could say that for certain was because I've always observed people from afar rather than engaging in a conversation with them, like a normal person would. Unfortunately, I'm a freak.

"What happened?"

It was a simple question. You turned to stare at me and I hear you mumble a "Huh?". I only sighed and sat up, my eyes and attention fully on you. I wasn't trying to look intimidating — I was just patiently waiting for you to answer my question, seeming how simple it is. You avoided making eye contact with me by staring at your feet. I sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Look, I may be a freak, but I ain't no dunce."

I continued. You shifted a bit, uncomfortable with my words and unsure whether you should retort. Probably because I can throw a mean punch if I want to. Thing is, I didn't feel like raising a single muscle, except maybe to smile so you wouldn't actually jump off. Finally, you slightly raised your head to look straight ahead at a few skyscrapers.

"...One of my close friends died recently and I...just feel weird."

I didn't hesitate to reply.

"Weird as in you feel like going up here and look down on people, wondering whether you should jump or not?"

You fell completely silent and still. I supposed I hit the nail on the head; I wanted to comment on you having close friends since it seemed like you were close friends with everyone you met, excluding those who hate how you're so confident in yourself which could easily be perceived as being egotistical. Even if you were, you had the right to strut the hallways of this god-forsaken school.

I opened my mouth to say something but the bell beside us rang and almost deafened us, but definitely reminding us that we should get our asses to class. Despite that, we both sat still, as the stagnant air mingled with the grayness of the sky. Looks like the storm won't be coming any time soon; still, the calm was alarming. The crowd had dispersed, giving up on us just like how I gave up on myself a long time ago.

"You should get to class."

I spoke up and waited for you to leave. Instead, you shuddered and brought your legs to your chest, your head sulking into the space between your knees like clouds drifting among mountains. I reached out a hand to console you but I had a feeling that you'd freak out more at that and accidentally jump off and I'd be the accidental murderer, as if being a freak wasn't enough. I was half-hoping you'd stay, half-hoping you'd leave my territory, but you chose both.

"...I'm not going unless you're tagging along."

I was genuinely shocked, I felt my eyes widening for more than just a second. But at the same time, I was kinda pissed.

"What, you want me to waltz to class with you so people can praise you and call you the hero who saved the freak of the school? Even when you're this big shot actor and shit? Like I said, I may be a freak but I ain't no dunce."

At this, you raised your head and gazed intensely at me for the first time in forever. Your eyes were violent again but they're just that. Violent and mad, just like the scowl on your face. For the first time in my life, I felt slightly terrified by someone with a smaller figure than me.

"I don't mean it like that. I just don't want to mingle with all those fake people in the halls wanting to get close to me just for money or fame or love or any of that bullshit. My close friend who died...he was the only one who knew the real me. Igawa. I fucking miss him," you rambled. I wanted to reply but you cut me off, continuing.

"So what if you're a freak? At least you're genuine and honest to yourself. To everyone. I spent my whole living lies people had told me. You're allowed to hate someone. I can't. You tell yourself every day that you want to die but you don’t. I was confused. And that's why...that's why I came up here. I wanted to see you."

You stopped venting, breathless. And then, finally, you broke into tears. You cried and cried and cried. I didn't hesitate to give you my jacket as you were shaking more than ever. You wrapped yourself up with it and held on tight to it for dear life. I even rubbed your back which made more tears leak out unapologetically. You even blowed your nose on my jacket. And it was completely fine. Looked like the storm didn't even need to come and ruin your day any more.

After you've done crying, we just leaned against each other. You closed your eyes, but you're wide awake and still so afraid. We spent a few minutes just like that and it was comforting in a way. Having someone lean on you like that; I've never felt such...warmth pulse through me. It felt really, really nice. For what felt like hours, I broke the silence.

"You wanted to see me because I wanna die but don't?"

You nodded, eyes still closed shut, ignorant of the still-grey skies and ugliness of everything. In spite of that, I smiled to myself for no reason and lied down again, completely comfortable this time. I waited for you to talk; I kinda like the way you talk when you're not boasting about your latest role in a movie or some shit. Soft and reassuring. Humble, even. But since you were silent for a while, I decided I should lighten up the mood.

"It's just that...jumping off this roof would be a real boring way to die. Some days I just wait for lightning to strike me or some shit."

Do you remember what you did next? You laughed. A breathy laugh, not the usual one echoing in the school corridors. But I like that too. That whole side of you was pretty refreshing to watch. And to know that I, Hyodo Juza, made you, Sumeragi Tenma, laugh made my chest pound harder than it should. Probably the anxiety of me having potential to make an actual friend. Even after you laughed, you finally smiled. And best yet, my humour spread over to you.

"I don't think you'll die. You'll probably turn into a superhuman. Like Thor or Ultraman..."

Then it was my turn to laugh, not just because I was feeling giggly and playful — he's also very, very wrong. Man, for an actor, he's surprisingly ignorant of famous movie characters.

"You do know that Thor is an actual god, right?"

He denied not knowing, like the tsundere everyone keeps saying he is. And to be honest, I started liking every side of you. Flawed or flawless, I liked each and every one of it. Because you were my first friend. You did that to me. I couldn't even do that to myself. For once in my life, I'm not talking to myself or an imaginary person at school. I'm always talking to you and it's surreal how you make me feel like me, whoever me is supposed to be.

I actually looked forward to school, just to see and talk to you. The best thing is you never grew tired of me. You even dragged me into acting, which I've grown so, so dearly fond of. We're real friends; we talk at school, hang out on weekends, all that stuff. I couldn't ask for more; this was too much of a miracle. Every time I see a glimpse of your bright, orange hair in the hallways, I'd rush over to you and tease how you look like a "fucking tangerine". But most importantly, I'd gaze into your eyes and think of the day I was on the bell tower with you.

Falling in love with your velvet violet irises again and again.

#a3 #a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #a3! actor training game #mankai a3! #juza hyodo #hyodo juza #tenma sumeragi #sumeragi tenma #tenma x juza #kinda #it can be platonic or romantic #it's up to you #despite the last sentence

[dlwritings]

All I Want | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - Tom x reader word count - 2,922 warnings - lots of crying and lots of drinking A/N - I wrote this for @petersshirts 2k writing challenge | prompt 4 - “without you, I’m absolutely nothing” | listen to All I Want by Kodaline | italics are flashbacks

summary - Tom broke your heart but, in ending things with him, you broke his. He’s having a hard time recovering, and you (truthfully) haven’t really moved on either. Is it time to start over?

(part 2)

Tom sat in his apartment, alone. He was always alone now. With his current Marvel projects wrapped up and the final reshoots of Chaos Walking and The Devil All the Time completed, he was left with a nearly empty schedule. Too much time on his hands. Too much time to miss her.

Funny, because time was what drew them apart. The irony was not lost on Tom.

The two of them met in a way most fans only dreamed of. (Y/N) had won a contest through The Brother’s Trust and got to go to the premiere of Spider-Man: Far From Home. What was originally supposed to be a fun night out playing celebrity turned into a night of making new friends.

With the $1000 that was given along with winning the contest, (Y/N) bought a metallic gold dress and some strappy gold heels. She had no idea if it was the kind of thing people wore on red carpets. She had looked up certain celebrities at different movie premieres and figured the outfit she picked would suffice. Nerves were eating her alive as she saw the limo (yes, limo) that would take her from her swanky hotel to the red carpet. The nerves only increased when she saw Tom Holland already in the car. He stepped out, introducing himself with a kind hug and polite kiss on the cheek. Her skin flushed red as she smiled back. He was professional at first, complimenting her dress, but in a polite way like his mother raised him with no flirtatious meaning behind it. It still left her flustered. What she wasn’t noticing was the way his eyes lingered on her frame as she stepped out of the car, his mouth suddenly dry at the sight of the smooth skin of her bare back. The slit of her dress rode up far enough to leave him wanting more. When he and his brothers came up with the idea for the contest, the last thing he expected was to be so enamoured by the winner.

She was funny. She seemed so relaxed around him, which was so refreshing. This wasn’t to say that (Y/N) wasn’t clearly a bit starstruck, but he couldn’t blame her. Not that he was egotistical, but more celebrities than he could count had left him slightly nervous. He’d been in her shoes before, to an extent. To hold a conversation with her that left them both laughing made his heart feel full. The premiere was great. She loved the movie, but he was more interested in watching her facial expressions than anything on screen. The glow on her face was mesmerizing. The VIP party was a blast. She meshed so well with Zendaya, Jacob, and the rest of the cast that it felt like she was always meant to be a part of their group. More than once, Zendaya wiggled her eyebrows at Tom, clearly noticing his infatuation with (YN). He didn’t even try to hide it, too busy focusing on how to make sure that that night was not going to be the last night he saw her.

The memories were all Tom could play in his head. He couldn’t focus on anything at hand. He burned everything he tried to cook, overfilled the drinks he was pouring in his glasses, cut himself shaving, and even put his shoes on the wrong feet. Nothing made sense without her.

Tom checked his phone, hoping deep in his chest that you had texted him. You hadn’t. He didn’t know why he expected you to. It had been three weeks of radio silence, and he was sure you weren’t going to break it now. He wanted to text you, but he seemed to have already inappropriately crossed that line.

For an entire week after you broke up with him, he texted you everyday. It was pathetic, but he was desperate. When his phone finally went off, he saw that you had sent him a text. Excitedly, hope swelling up in his chest, he opened it. Upon reading it, the hope was crushed by reality. Your text read, “I need you to stop contacting me. We are done and I can’t keep thinking about my decision every time I get a text from you. I know this hurts, and it hurts me too, but this is how it is now. Please stop texting me. I’ll block your number if you try and contact me again.”

After doing a fair share of crying, he never texted you again.

What Tom really wanted to do was drink, but Harrison had taken all the alcohol from Tom’s apartment.

A week after you texted him for the last time, Tom drank himself into unconsciousness. Harrison had been texting him all night and was worried when he wasn’t getting any responses. Harrison thought it was crazy how quickly Tom had fallen for you. The two of you had only dated for about six months, yet Harrison had never seen Tom so utterly heartbroken. He finally decided to check up on his friend, only to find him knocked out on the floor, a pile of vomit beside him. “Jesus Christ,” Harrison mumbled to himself, pulling his shirt collar over his nose. The apartment smelled like sweat, alcohol, and vomit. He had never seen Tom like this, and it freaked him out. “Mate,” he said, crouching down on the ground and shaking Tom. Tom didn’t move. Harrison checked his pulse, genuinely at a loss for what to do. When he found the pulse, he shook Tom again. “Mate, get up.” Still, he got no response. Finally, Harrison got a glass of ice water and splashed it on Tom’s face.

Tom woke up with a start, his head pounding and his body sweating profusely. “What the fuck,” Tom said, his voice hoarse. He felt woozy the minute he sat up and quickly laid back down again, clutching his stomach. He saw the vomit beside him and immediately felt sick again. He stood up as quickly as he could and just made it to the toilet before he threw up again. Harrison sighed and, being the good friend that he was, cleaned up the mess Tom had made on the carpet. He got water and advil and set it on the kitchen counter for when Tom finally made it out of the bathroom. He wasn’t surprised when he heard the shower start, but he was relieved. He wasn’t sure he could consol his best friend when he smelled like death.

While Tom was in the shower, Harrison got a paper bag and put all of Tom’s alcohol away. The last thing he needed was for his best friend to drink himself to death. Tom got out of the shower just as Harrison put the last bottle of alcohol away. “What the hell are you doing?” Tom asked, ruffling a hand through his damp hair.

“Saving you from yourself,” Harrison said.

“I’m fine,” Tom said with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re clearly not fine,” Harrison said, somewhat annoyed. “I walked in to find you knocked out next to your own puke. I’ve never seen you like that before. That’s not fine. I’m taking all this shit until you’re in a better state.”

Clearly, Tom was not in a better state. Instead, he numbed himself every night by watching brainless TV until he fell asleep. One day though, Family Guy just wasn’t enough. He decided to head out to a bar and drink himself away. Just because Harrison took away all his liquor doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to find some somewhere else.

Tom went to the nearest bar and ordered a whiskey coke. Then another. And another. And another. Sprinkled in with a few tequila shots here and there, he was sufficiently fucked.

-

You were laying in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. You hadn’t been sleeping very well lately, truthfully missing Tom’s arms around you. It had been about two weeks since you sent him that terrible text message, and the guilt ate you up every time you looked at it. You couldn’t get yourself to delete the message and found yourself staring at it often, wishing you could erase the things you had said.

You groaned and grabbed your phone, unlocking it to go to your text message thread with Tom. The most recent text blinded you, but you scrolled past it, choosing to reminisce over the more positive messages the two of you had shared. They made your heart feel warm when you had been feeling so cold lately. You hadn’t done the right thing, you knew that. More than anything in the world, you wanted Tom back, but your heart wouldn’t be able to take him putting minimal effort into the relationship again.

You jumped when your phone started vibrating in your hands. Harrison? You looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 1:00 in the morning. Confused and a little concerned, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you home right now?” Harrison said. His voice sounded strained.

“Um, yeah?” you said. “What’s going on?”

“Okay, I know I probably shouldn’t be calling you,” Harrison said, “but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Harrison,” you said slowly.

“He went to a bar (Y/N),” Harrison groaned. “He’s completely fucked. Normally I can handle this, but he won’t listen to me. He got kicked out of the bar, and I’m trying to take him home, but-” Harrison cut himself off with a sigh.

“What is it?” you pressed. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. It wasn’t often that Tom got so intoxicated that even Harrison couldn’t handle him. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time that had ever happened before.

“He wants you, (Y/N),” Harrison said. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to see him, but I don’t know what else to do.” You sighed and sat up in bed, kicking the sheets off of yourself and swinging your legs over the side of your bed.

“You can bring him over,” you said, putting your forehead in your hand.

“Are you sure?” Harrison asked. “I don’t want to put you in a weird position.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “Just bring him over.”

Harrison thanked you and hung up the phone, and you sighed again. You forced yourself to stay calm, already shaking at the thought of seeing Tom again. Tom was an honest drunk, and you weren’t sure what kind of conversation you were up for having that night.

It felt like virtually no time had gone by when Harrison rang the buzzer to your apartment. You quickly buzzed him in. It took him and Tom a while to get to the third floor where your apartment was, and you figured Tom was probably struggling to make it up the stairs. When Harrison finally opened your front door, your suspicions were confirmed. Harrison was practically supporting all of Tom’s body, as Tom was dragging his feet along. Harrison brought Tom over to the couch and all but threw him on it. Tom laid down immediately, curling himself into a ball.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Harrison asked again.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Promise. I’ll call you if I need help.” Harrison patted you on the back comfortingly before leaving you and Tom alone in the apartment. You went into your kitchen and got Tom a water bottle and grabbed a trash can in case he decided to throw up his guts. You sat beside Tom on the couch. “Tom?” you said hesitantly. “I need you to drink some water.”

“(Y/N)?” he croaked out. He opened his eyes, and you quickly noticed how bloodshot they were. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Harrison brought you to my apartment,” you told him. “Now sit up and drink some water for me, okay?” Tom sat up a little too quickly, and his face paled immediately. You grabbed the trash can and handed it to him just in time for him to vomit into it. He kept heaving, and you rubbed his back soothingly. When he finally caught his breath, he put the trash back down and took the water bottle from you, taking delicate sips from it. After a few minutes of silence, you sighed. “What are you doing, Tom?” you whispered. Tom looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice broken. “I’m so lost without you.”

“Tom,” you sighed.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he whimpered. A few tears spilled from his eyes, and your heart broke. “(Y/N) I’m so fucking lost. Without you, I’m absolutely nothing.”

“That’s not true,” you said.

“Look at me!” he huffed. His voice came out in broken sobs. You couldn’t help but reach out and put your arms around him, pulling him close to your chest. He pressed his face against your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp lightly. His whole body was shaking as he wrapped his arms around you torso, squeezing you tightly.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, continuing to brush your fingers through his hair. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

You leaned up against the arm of the couch and encouraged Tom to lay between your legs. He laid on his stomach, his cheek against your chest, and his arms wrapped around you. You ran your fingers through his hair lightly, and you heard him sniffing harshly, probably trying to catch his composure. “I just wanted to see your face again,” Tom suddenly whispered. Your hands halted for a moment, and Tom turned to look up at you. His tear stained cheeks put a lump in your throat. “I just wanted to see you one more time before it was over forever and you never spoke to me again. I thought I’d be okay if I could just, if I could just see you one more time. I thought I’d be able to move on, but now, now I’ve seen your face, and I’m still so fucking broken.” He swallowed thickly and a few stray tears left his eyes. With a shaky breath, he said, “Why won’t you love me?”

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths of your own. “I do love you, Tom,” you whispered. You opened your eyes again to find him staring up at you.

“Then why’d you leave me?” he choked out.

You sighed and shook your head. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is that easy,” he argued. “If we love each other, why aren’t we together? I’ll try and be better. I will. I, I’m done filming, so I’ll be free all the time. I won’t go clubbing as much. I’ll hold you ever night. We’ll go on lovely dates and weekends away and long trips to wherever you want. I’ll give you my whole heart and nothing less. I swear.”

“I just want you, Tommy,” you whispered. “I don’t need you to make all these promises to me. I just want you.”

“You have me,” he pressed. “All of me.” Tom sat up and put his hands on the sides of your head. “Babe, let me love you.” You closed your eyes as Tom brought his face closer to yours. His breath fanned across your lips before he slowly kissed you. His tongue made its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss and making you taste the whiskey on his breath. You kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair and your body inching closer to his. You were soon on his lap, straddling his thigh and feeling his hands on your waist.

When Tom started to push your shirt up your body, you pulled away from him. Tom breathed heavily, his eyes still closed. “We can’t,” you whispered. “You’re drunk.”

“I want this,” he muttered. He pressed his lips across your neck, biting your earlobe softly.

“If you still want this in the morning,” you breathed out, trying your best to focus and stay strong, “we can talk.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he almost whined.

“I’m doing this for you,” you said back. When you were both quiet for a moment, you ran your fingers through his hair making him look up at you. “You want to sleep here tonight?” you asked. He nodded, looking like he was fighting to keep his eyes open. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

You helped Tom walk to your room. He was still a little too intoxicated to walk without stumbling. As soon as he got to your room, he stripped down to his boxers and all but threw himself on the bed. You smiled softly and went into the bathroom, washing your face, brushing your teeth, and changing into your pajamas. You grabbed the trash can you kept in there and brought it back with you to the bedroom, wanting to keep it beside him in case he woke up feeling sick. When you got back to your bedroom, you heard Tom’s soft snores in the room. You let out a small sigh and crawled into bed. As if his body was magnetically connected to you, he immediately turned and wrapped his arms around you. You sighed again and ran your fingers through his hair. You knew what the morning would bring. The thought made you smile.

All I want is, and all I need is, to find somebody. I’ll find somebody, like you.

#petersshirts2kwc #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #marvel

[real-jaune-isms]

Volume 7 Chapter 4 Review

First of all, a really nice episode with many good moments and scenes. However... it overall left me feeling kind of down. Like some of the air had been let out of my sails. It put some more back in, but it took a lot. Let me explain...

The whole thing starts positive enough, if a little foreboding. The sun is setting quite beautifully, though it makes you wonder what time the mission started and how long RWBY and the Ace Ops were down there. A convoy of armored trucks drive up the path to the SDC Mine’s entrance, flanked by the looming shadow of Amity Coliseum being brought to its new temporary home until the proper launch. Some Faunus seem to be watching from a distance, and by the look of a pin one is wearing these are two of the Happy Huntresses. Wonder what they’re doing here?...

As the trucks stop, our adult professional huntsmen and huntresses strut confidently out of the mine entrance, though some are trying a little harder to look serious than others. Very cute Marrow, we can definitely tell you’re the rookie of the group. But we don’t have time to dwell on that, because the real heroes are out of the cave too, and most of them are trying to just behave and stand at attention. Not Ruby, Nora, and Jaune though. They’re going gaga over the Ace Ops. Jaune is super impressed with the superior leadership and strategizing of Clover, and how the whole team’s synergy is so flawless it barely requires communication, to which Clover responds with some wisdom about knowing and covering for one another’s liabilities. This of course leads to some nice banter within the Ace Ops at Marrow’s expense, the poor pup. Meanwhile Nora wants to make fellow hammer user and bruiser Elm her new best friend, complete with Street Fighter text graphic for their pairing.

Thunder Thighs!

And Ruby is just wowed that Harriet is so quick and reliable to come in clutch and have her team’s back so well, something she aspired to do too. But she apparently makes a mistake in calling the Ace Ops “friends”. Harriet keeps this purely professional. It’s a matter of trust and teamwork, but they’re still just coworkers. Clearly a difference in teaching style between Beacon and Atlas, because I definitely got the feeling from Volumes 1-3 that Ozpin wanted everyone to form meaningful bonds in order for their teamwork to be at its best. But this really shakes our girls. They just saw the most impressive huntsman work they’ve ever seen, and they’re being told that was from people who aren’t friends? Makes them feel like they’re doing things the wrong way, or worse that they won’t be able to stay as close if they want to get serious about their work. And it’s especially hard to hear now. Blake and Yang just killed a man the other day, they all stole Atlas property, Weiss put her faith in her team to stay by her side in order to go back to Atlas when she had just escaped from there a few volumes ago. They risked everything to find each other again and stay together... and that’s apparently a naïve way to look at being a Huntress? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I felt like that stuck with them for the rest of the episode and I really hope they all have a talk about it soon. This is a crisis of confidence like nothing they’ve encountered, and I love it.

While the Ops go check in with Ironwood, Ruby tries to drum up enthusiasm for a team activity such as exploration of the city, probably as a direct response to Harriet’s claim they won’t stay friends if they want to be Huntresses. She wants to strengthen their bonds through quality team time. A noble aspiration, if only they weren’t tired after a busy day of the mission, and they seem to still be worn out by the Argus escape stuff and sick of city stuff after Argus and Mantle. A shame, I’m sure Atlas has plenty of wonderful sights to see. But they need time to rest and recuperate. Sorry Ruby... But there’s no time to dwell on that either, because Ironwood wants to talk with Jaune, Ruby, and Qrow. They barely catch the end of his conversation with Clover, something to the effect of keeping a low profile in Mantle while doing recon on a recent problem... and that Marrow can’t come because low profile isn’t his strong suit. That’s when they get the worst news yet. New Best Boy Forest has been murdered, the third killing of someone speaking out against Ironwood in a week. This revelation of course devastates our young heroes. Qrow points out the obvious, the connecting thread of all the dead being anti-Ironwood makes a pretty damning case against him. The General’s not egotistical enough to prioritize the damage that does to his reputation, instead worrying it’ll worsen civil unrest. He can tell he and the rest of Atlas are being framed for such brutal blows to the truth seeking lower class, and the frame fits the current painting rather nicely. Jaune claps back that the unrest got so bad to begin with because of Ironwood’s Dust embargo so he has no one but himself to blame. Savage. But even Ironwood admits he’s right, that the issues of Mantle are going unanswered while he has to deal with the grand designs. So that’s where RWBY and JNR come in, good people to help make a difference in Mantle. How thoughtful.

But all noble thoughts go out the window as a new ship enters the area, one that practically screams wealth and privilege. Papa Schnee has come to trade verbal jabs~ And he starts firing off with indignant blustering the moment the doors open, saying the repossession of his old mine is an outrage the Council will not stand for. But Jimmy thought of that already, and he’s already told them he was commandeering this private property, AND since this is a military operation of top priority and confidentiality he doesn’t need Council approval. The very idea baffles Jacques, and James advises him to learn a thing or two about how the Council works before he has to watch the seat on it he wants so dearly slip through his fingers. Jacques only got to land here because the General let him, and he won’t be doing so again. Any blathering about the disrespect Ironwood is showing him goes out the window as he notices what’s been keeping us all tense this entire time; Weiss is just a few feet away. Papa Schnee of course gets fired up all over again that Weiss is working with Ironwood now, as if she was nothing more than another piece of property Jacques was swindled out of and had no agency of her own where she chose to go. Weiss stands up for herself at least that much, saying it was her own decision to come to Atlas and work with the General, the same way she decided to get the fuck out when he put her under house arrest, lest he forget that cruel move. He gets quite ruffled that she would talk back to him about his own recollection of his decisions, that he has not been shown the respect he should as her father. But she makes it clear he’s getting exactly how much respect he deserves, if not more than his kind is worth.

Jacques looks about ready to wind up for a swing at her and tries to let her know as much, but he forgot the man running the military and police is standing right behind him and already not his biggest fan. So he does something just as bad if not even worse. He guilt trips and gaslights her by saying that Mama Schnee’s condition has gotten even worse BECAUSE Weiss left, that it’s all her fault her mother has been made to suffer like this. I truly wish he could be on the receiving end of a sniper bullet or several blades and punches. But no, he cracks her confident defiance and upsets her, mission accomplished, and he gives an infuriating little villainous smirk. Feeling a little better about himself because he got to emotionally manipulate his daughter, Jacques claims Ironwood’s recent actions will be the noose that hangs the dear General. More importantly though, Weiss is lifted from her anguish and self-pity by Blake taking her hand in a show of support. She knows exactly what is happening here, because she was in Weiss’ shoes for years with Adam. She can and will help her friend get out of this. The whole team will, they’re all standing with her and for her. 

And maybe with a little help from her friends, Weiss’ abuser can go the way of Blake’s. Publicly humiliated and reduced to a petty shell of their former self concerned only with revenge, before dying to those they sough to control. Yeah I still have some thoughts about Adam and how glad I am he died how he did...

Regardless of our hatred for the thankfully deceased, when Jacques gets done indirectly threatening James he turns back to see Weiss feeling a little better and flanked by her team. So he tries to insult them and make Weiss feel guilty that she left her life of luxury and influence for a few friends. Too bad she knows now they’re more of a family to her than he is, and she lets him know. He doesn’t like that very much, she’s got confidence and emotional support, she might actually try and get out from under his thumb. So he leaves with a grumble, and as soon as he’s gone Weiss lets out the breath she was holding and relaxes a bit. And hey, Winter shows up! Almost as if she didn’t want to be there while her Father was and waited until he had left to come any closer. Guess she’s afraid of his domineering influence too. In much better news, Penny lands in the middle of the scene quite suddenly and knocks our girls away comically. Seems she’s here to celebrate... something that has yet to happen. But we find out what that is quite soon.

Next thing we know everyone is center stage in the Amity Arena, and Ironwood is making a speech about how much RWBY and JNR have grown since the last time they were here. And that growth deserves recognition, so they are given an impromptu graduation ceremony and awarded their licenses as Official Huntresses and Huntsmen by Penny... because she’s the one with the Scroll hitting the check mark on each of them to finalize the process. It’s everything they ever wanted back in the first few Volumes... but he’s right. Everything has changed since the Vytal Festival, including what they all seem to want in life. They... think they’re still happy to have this, but it doesn’t feel like it means much of anything anymore. Still, it is a big moment and he reminds them that they will all be working together on equal footing to get the satellite launched and communication restored. And whatever happens with Salem will be faced all together. He can’t think of a much better way to end the speech so he leaves them to enjoy some cake. Nora is very enthusiastic about eating a lot of that cake. While everyone else gathers around to watch Penny cut the cake with her swords, Ruby sits on her own in the bleachers and watches. Nora gets a stack of about 5 pieces of cake much to Ren and Weiss’ amusement, Yang shows off her detaching arm trick to Penny which earns a laugh, then goes to take a burst of selfies with a humorously unprepared Blake. How adorable.

Less adorable and more meaningful is Ruby and Qrow having a talk about all the tough choices she’s had to make recently and how much things have been changing around her without giving her any time to stop and adjust. This is what it means to be a leader, and her secrecy about Salem and Jinn is apparently less egregious than what Ozpin did according to Qrow. While Oz never trusted anyone with the whole truth, Ruby is planning to once Ironwood proves himself trustworthy. That’s a point in the win column. Ruby feels like she hasn’t earned her Huntress title, that she doesn’t feel any different than she did at Beacon, any more skilled or special. That feeling apparently never goes away. Qrow assures his niece that her mom would be very proud of the woman she has become and the choices she has made. But that raises the question, was the mission Summer disappeared on another Oz secret? Apparently not, even Ozpin had no idea where she had gone or why. Summer kept a few secrets all her own I guess, I just hope we learn more about all that and about her herself soon. For now, Ruby wants to know if Summer would have done the same thing about Salem if she were in her daughter’s shoes, and the best answer he can give is she would press on. She was the best of the lot, if not a little bratty, which he claims he doesn’t mind from her or Ruby~

That sweet moment ends as the group is shown a mission board of jobs they can sign up for around the Kingdom, much to Ruby’s glee. She has many ideas about what she wants to do for her first official mission~ Marrow, Elm, and Vine show up to guide the young’uns through the process for their first time around, though Vine and Ren seem to miss the point of Marrow’s metaphor about fresh meat. Elm is just amused the kids are so gung-ho to get right into huntsman work. The first job sounds like promising enough volunteer work to get most hands in the air, but when it’s revealed to be escorting preschoolers along their walk to pre-K Jaune is the only one with his hand still up so he gets stuck with it, and unfortunately Marrow doesn’t know how to pronounce his name... Meanwhile the others are all too eager to sign up when Elm tells them about a mission to take down a massive Sabyr loose in the Mantle sewers. They all have a good laugh that Jaune missed his chance to be a part of that since he said yes to the preschool escort. But hey, helping out the kids is sure to get the attention of some

Real.

Thirsty.

Moms.

But we can’t end on a positive note, so we cut to Jacques drinking in his study when Whitley makes his return, hooray hooray. He reports that a guest has let himself in and wants to speak with the patriarch... and oh what a delightful surprise! It’s Watts, and whatever words will be exchanged between them are not for the young lad to hear. Those words being that dear Arthur was thought by the masses to be dead, and that’s just how he likes it. So that explains why he’s not a suspect in the Black Queen virus stuff in Volume 3. But now he has a mutually beneficial proposition to deal with Jacques’ Ironwood problem~ How foreboding.

Sadly, or not depending how you view it, that’s all she wrote.

#rwby reviews #RWBY #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #qrow branwen #james ironwood #jacques schnee #winter schnee #penny polendina #atlas ace ops #white rose #bumbleby #thunder thighs #renora #a little monochrome #summer rose #arthur watts #whitley schnee #rwby spoilers #volume 7 spoilers #volume 7 trailer spoilers

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 9

A/N: Here we go again! I’m going away for a little vacation with my sister to visit our grandparents, so I won’t be updating for about a week or two, but when I return, I will definitely continue this story so don’t worry! So, I hope you all enjoy this cliffhanger because God knows I enjoyed writing it to tease everyone! 

Warnings: Language, smut, fluffiness, and jealousy.

  By the time Jason and I reach my apartment, I’m more than just exhausted; I’m mentally weak.  Deathstroke’s words plague my ears and mind. No matter how many times I try to think for myself, or listen to Jason, Deathstroke’s voice takes control over me.

I undress in the living room; not even caring if Jason sees or not (which I know he most likely will anyways). Kicking off my boots, I peel off the top of my costume, immediately noticing the wet spots from when Deathstroke got a good few hits at me. Spots of my blood stains my stomach, but I’m lucky enough to not need stitches or anything serious. Slipping into my sweats and t-shirt, I throw myself on the couch and begin to wonder how to take Deathstroke down.

Do I kill Deathstroke and not tell Bruce? Yeah right, Bruce and Tim could find out and point it all back to me since they’re fucking detectives.

Do I ‘accidentally’ kill him? No, it’ll some how come back to me. I remember Bruce’s golden rule: Justice, not vengeance. At least Damian would agree with me on this one.

Should I ask someone else for help? Maybe…Roy Harper? He would totally be down for a big ass kicking if anything!

Lying completely on my side, I notice Jason sits beside me and removes his helmet. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He sets his helmet on the coffee table; I can smell his cologne and gun powder from his jacket.

“No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I truthfully answer.

“That’s not true. We just need to...probably ask Tim and Damian for help. They might know what we should do about this since Deathstroke won’t fucking quit.”

Jason lifts my legs up and sets them on his lap. One of his hands reaches for mine to hold, as his other hand rubs up and down my leg; in a comforting matter or flirting matter, I can’t tell right now. He exhales shakily and pushes his hand into my sweatpants to feel my smooth leg.

I glance up at him as he just smirks at me; he’s probably thinking I can easily be seduced.

“Are you…trying to hit on me?” I ask slowly.

“Maybe,” Jason replies anxiously. I’ve never seen the cocky, overly confident, and egotistical man show fear before. His blue eyes focus on me, and for a brief second, he licks his bottom lip. “I-I just need to stay busy. I-I shouldn’t be thinking too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…had to stop myself back there…from killing him. The way he tried to hurt you, hurt my brother, I wanted to fucking kill him, Y/N. All I wanted to do is break his fucking spine…rip apart his fucking face…and step all over his hands and body for even thinking he can fucking hurt you and my family. The thing is, I know I have changed for the better, but there’s something still in me that screams kill, whenever someone I love is hurt or in danger,” Jason confesses. His voice breaks, and it saddens me to see how Jason is still affected from his past. His fingers rub circles on my leg, and the warmth and comfort he’s giving me is distracting me as well. “All I want is to forget that feeling right now. I just want to fucking forget tonight because I was sure I was going to kill him, and I fucking know I wouldn’t come back from all of that. I wouldn’t be who I am. I would be that man Bruce has helped me bury. I can’t allow that to happen, especially now that you’re around me more.”

I’m speechless. My chest is pounding from my wild emotions; which could be my heart beating fast because of Jason’s feelings, or I might be having a real heart attack from the stress and everything else around me.

Jason sits up to kneel in front of me, and he closes the distance between us as he kisses me. His lips are slightly chapped, but the warmth and emotion from him makes me fall into a peaceful state where nothing is bothering me, and everything just stops for a moment. I kiss him back with as much affection, and the moment the kiss deepens, my cell phone rings; alerting both of us. I reach across to the coffee table to get it and I see it’s Artemis.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly.

“Y/N! Why the hell haven’t you called me or text me or something?! I’ve been dying to talk to you! Listen, I need to know what happened that night when you were drinking. Did anything happen that I should know about? And I need to know what you’re doing right now!” Artemis flips out.

“Hey, you haven’t exactly tried to reach me either. Is everything okay?” I ask, hoping to calm her down a bit.

“Yeah, I mean...Conner and I are together now...” Artemis says, happily sighing into the phone. I can hear Conner say something near her, and she giggles at him. “But I didn’t call to talk about that since we can discuss more about Conner and how you and Dick are going to be so cute at Bruce’s gala tomorrow night.”

I freeze. “Bruce’s gala?” I repeat.

“Yeah, we all got our invites. Didn’t you get one?”

Jason sits up and begins to pull down my sweatpants. On his knees, he pulls them completely off despite my warning glare. He settles in between my legs and starts kissing down my chest and all the way down my stomach. The second his hot lips kiss down my thighs, I whine.

“What was that noise?” Artemis asks.

“Uh-nothing! I haven’t checked my mail yet,” I breathe heavily. My hand holds my phone tightly, as the other hand runs through Jason’s hair. “You and Conner are going together?”

“Of course! So is Tim and Zatanna! That means you and Dick are going together right?” Artemis asks.

“I-uh...I think so,” I struggle to speak. Jason kisses my thigh once more, before he dips his head down to my pussy and licks up my slit to my clit. His tongue circles my clit, and then he takes me by surprise when he lightly sucks on it. He looks up at me and smirks at how easily I can come undone by his power of oral sex.

Biting my lip, I try to remain calm because Jason is close to getting where I need him. But Artemis sighs sadly. Now that doesn’t sound good.

“Y/N...I need to tell you something. I-I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I think I need to tell you because you deserve to know.”

I immediately push Jason off me; knocking him off the couch. Mouthing “sorry”, I slip back on my panties and sweatpants. “What’s wrong? Is it about you?” I ask cautiously.

“Kind of. Remember when I told you Wally and I broke up because it just wasn’t working out? There was a real reason why we broke up after he came back from the Speed-Force. It was because he was sleeping around with Dick,” Artemis reveals.

I can feel my throat tighten. Of course, I already knew about Dick and Wally’s involvement, but I didn’t think their history went that far back. I exhale, and I almost want to tell her what’s been going on lately.

“What?” I ask, figuring that’s the appropriate response right now.

“Wally’s gay. He...was confused for a long time and I knew we couldn’t keep dating because I knew he wanted Dick more, and that he shouldn’t change or hide who he really is. The thing is, you’re my best friend and I just need to know if Dick told you the truth. D-Dick is my friend too, and he told me not to tell you about his and Wally’s flings when he first started seeing you. I didn’t want to get involved in your love life and-” Artemis rambles on apologetically.

“Artemis! It’s fine. I…already know about Dick and Wally,” I admit.

“How? And if he told you, why are you still with him? You’re okay with Dick being…bi?”

“I-I don’t really know about our relationship status at the moment. If anything, I think we’re on a time-out,” I say nervously. I pace around and I can’t figure out how to deal with this because my mind is only focused on one thing: Deathstroke. Dick and Wally’s flings don’t bother me as much as before, but I know Artemis is just looking out for me. “But wait, you haven’t told anyone about them? Does anyone know about Wally?”

“I’m the only one who knows about Wally. He’s still…scared to come out, especially since he feels like he’s going to disappoint Barry. But no, as far as I know, we’re the only ones who know the truth,” Artemis discloses.

Besides Jason, Tim, Damian, and Alfred, I think to myself.

“But look Y/N, I don’t hate Wally after what happened between us. I don’t think I can even hate him. We…had a good run, and I still love him and consider him one of my best friends. It’s just that…sometimes it’s hard to accept the truth, especially when it’s coming from someone you love. And I know you love Dick, so I hope you’re not blaming yourself or planning to kill yourself anytime soon,” Artemis continues before she sighs once more. I fear what she’s going to ask me now. “Do you hate him? Do you hate Dick?”

The question catches me off guard. After everything that has happened, I realize I mostly went through the stages of betrayal, anger, and sadness. But as of right now, the only thing I feel is determination and pity for Deathstroke when I finish him off.

“I…don’t hate Dick,” I confess. It’s the one confession I feel like I can easily admit. I’m not hiding anything. I’m not hurting Dick or myself. It’s just the plain, honest, truth, and it actually feels good to get it out. “I can’t hate him. I don’t think I can ever hate him. But listen Artemis, I really want to tell you how I found out and what’s going on, but I can’t right now. Some shit is going on, and I need to focus on that.”

I finally move out of the living room, while Jason follows me. Turning on the kitchen light, I head to get a water bottle, but a yellow and red costume catches my attention on my balcony.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” I say quickly and hang up, despite Artemis trying to keep me talking.

Kid Flash vibrates through my locked balcony door and enters my home. Jason suddenly appears at my side and pushes me behind him as he aims his gun right at Wally West. He chuckles darkly, and points at me.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Wally says seriously. He pulls his hood back to reveal his green eyes and freckled face.

“What do you want?” I ask, realizing I don’t sound friendly at all.

“I’m only going to say this once. For the past few months, I’ve had to lie about who I am. I constantly have to pretend I’m straight, and that I like girls. But you know the truth now, so you can imagine how fucking awful and annoying it is to put on a mask and be the person everyone wants to see, right?” Wally asks, with hints of sarcasm.

“What does this have to do with her?” Jason demands. He slowly lowers the gun down.

“I want you to officially end things with Dick. I don’t give a shit what he told you. You’re not in love with him anymore. I see it. Dick sees it. Hell, I even saw it at the barbeque, and I’m gay! I know why Dick insists on keeping you around, but why the hell are you even still with him? Are you that desperate for a guy?” Wally questions me. He’s clearly annoyed.

“What do you know about my feelings, Wally?! You’re not me! You don’t know what happened in our relationship and you don’t know what it was like!” I snap.

“I know for a fact that he was miserable with you! The fact that he kept coming back to me late night says something doesn’t it?!” Wally yells. He laughs when he notices I frown. “Yeah, when you would fall asleep with him, he’d leave you to come to my place. It was clear as day that he couldn’t be with you anymore.”

“Watch it, West,” Jason threatens.

“If he was that miserable with me, then he should have broken up with me in the beginning. But don’t you dare take your jealousy and pain out on me, Wally. I have absolutely nothing to do with yours and Dick’s relationship. Whatever is going on between you two, it’s clearly between you two. And as for ‘our relationship’, you know for a fact that he’s the one who still wants to be with me; I don’t want to stay with him. I still love him, and I’ll probably always love him, but I’m not in love with him. I will never fall or be in love with him ever again. But until Dick figures out how to come out to his family and friends, I’m not going to break up with him or out him. Not now, not ever. But if you have a problem with me, come at me then,” I say seriously. I step forward from Jason, and I hold out my hands. I smirk, and chuckle at the way Wally’s face falls. “I already have to deal with an asshole who’s threatening me and Dick. But if I have to, I’ll fucking fight you too, because I’m not going anywhere until Dick deals with his issues.”

Wally exhales heavily. His eyes stay on the floor, as he runs a hand through his red hair. I can tell he’s on the verge of crying, except I’m not even sure why. After a few minutes, he finally raises his head up and his eyes are red and puffy.

“He’s…he’s just hurting me a lot, Y/N. He doesn’t care that he’s toying you around and just using me because he’s so fucking stubborn to realize the damage he’s doing! He REFUSES to admit he’s bisexual, and that he wants to be with me! He’s playing a fucked-up game right now, and we’re just pawns until he gets what he wants! I’m not fucking stupid. I know he still loves you, and he wants it to work out between you two, but I know it’s not fair for me, or even you. But Dick’s going to do whatever he wants because…” Wally chokes up, and steps closer to me until he’s hugging me; which frightens me a bit. “He’s going to do something tomorrow night…he’s just going to keep hurting us, Y/N.”

I freeze into his arms. Jason raises an eyebrow and watches us closely. “What do you mean, Wally?” I ask quietly. Maybe I don’t want to know…

“Tim told me that Dick’s going to propose to you tomorrow at the gala. He has a ring. He has something planned. And he’s going to want you to say yes,” Wally admits.

My eyes widen. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse…

It does.

#dc comics #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut

[rhowena]

Pile of stuff concerning what happened to Loki between Thor and The Avengers

Originally posted on r/FanTheories

https://inforapid.org/webapp/webapp.php?shareddb=IAxUFHnwkGJSYMj9OFbT8mRl5goHm9SC2qHbWw4knO1cng5qI5Wrg48nP1MdgbWlJmHj6UpwbN343IqnstQUwxIIO01M5Rvb

As it does not escape my notice that I’ve created a digital version of this meme, some navigation help for anyone who needs it:

Mouse over/tap an item or relation to view its description

For items with the yellow ‘Note’ label, select the node and then 'Notes on Item’ in the side menu to view an additional notes page

If an item has a globe icon it the top-left corner, click it to open a webpage

'Adjust View’ in the side menu has controls to zoom in/out, increase/decrease the distance between items, and filter items or relations by category

Relations (and items) are color-coded by type: solid green lines are for in-universe evidence (light green connects evidence to the theory it supports, while dark green connects pieces of evidence that should be looked at together), purple dotted lines denote parallels, and dark red lines mark cases of “one of these things is not like the other”

And an overview of the theories contained therein:

First, the central piece of tinfoil around which all other tinfoil is arrayed: remember how, at the end of the first Thor, Loki was pathologically obsessed with gaining his father’s approval? And how, when he next showed up after vanishing for an entire year, he’d gotten mixed up with a guy who keeps a menagerie of adopted children? And how, during his argument with Thor on the mountaintop, he said this?

Loki: Did you mourn? Thor: We all did. Our father– Loki: Your father. He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?

Loki: I’ve seen worlds you’ve never known about! I have grown, Odinson, in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract and when I wield it—

Tom Hiddleston: There’s a bit where Thor says, “We all mourned! Our father…” and Loki interrupts him and says, “YOUR father.” And it’s that sense of 'don’t include me in this anymore. I have no relation or connection to you.’ It’s his way of saying 'I’ve let go, I’m gone, I’m on the outside of the fence, I’m happy here, I don’t want to come back in.’

If I may take a minute to get out some of my extremely complicated feelings on this, while there’s a bunch more evidence in favor of Loki having been another of Thanos’s children that can be viewed on the mind map, I want to highlight this pair of quotes because it’s everything implied by the words “Your father” that makes it into a devastating punch in the stomach which draws on both halves of Loki’s Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds characterization: his genuine love for his family is his primary redeeming quality and that he forswore it like this puts the terrible moment when he first knelt before Thanos and pledged himself to the Mad Titan’s service firmly into archetypal Faustian sell-your-soul territory, but when you consider the straits he was in at the time and the implication that Thanos initially ensnared him not through promises of power but by preying on him emotionally, it’s a very human kind of tragic mistake.

The other mitigating factor is that based on everything we’ve heard from Thanos’s other children, it’s a safe bet that he did in fact do unspeakably horrible things to Loki too – indeed, noticing the resemblance between the existing theories about Loki having been tortured/brainwashed and Gamora’s “He took me, tortured me, turned me into a weapon” was what prompted the above realization in the first place. (It’s reminiscent of Theon’s storyline in ASOIAF/GOT: yeah, he betrayed his adoptive family and did some generally awful stuff, but no one deserves what happened to him.) It also bears emphasizing that accountability cuts both ways: one of the key takeaways from the previous bullet point is that the suffering Loki went through doesn’t absolve him of responsibility for his villainous actions, but the other side of the coin is that Loki’s partial complicity doesn’t absolve Thanos of responsibility for the choice he made to take a broken, desperate young man who’d just lost everything and turn him into the rabid animal we saw during The Avengers, and I dearly hope that exploring the rich font of psychological horror that is that time period will erase any remaining doubt that Thanos’s claims of acting For The Greater Good are nothing but empty, egotistical, self-righteous posturing and everyone in the audience who insists on taking them at face value is being duped just as Loki was.

Stephen: No. I mean, come on. Look at your face. Dormammu made you a murderer. Just how good can his kingdom be?

As for where this is all going, I believe there’s a good chance that the Loki Disney+ series will be where they finally address this as a. the split timeline Loki the series will be following is still fresh from his time with Thanos and it will therefore have to explain what happened if we’re to understand the kind of headspace that he’s in at that moment and b. Tom Hiddleston has revealed that the series will also clarify whether or not Loki really is dead in the main timeline, and everything I have so far indicates that understanding the nature of his original pact with Thanos is essential to understanding both Loki’s choice to die and Thanos’s choice to kill him (see the 'Pledge of fidelity’ and 'Limited use’ notes pages on the mind map). Character-wise, I think one of the points of emphasis will be that Loki’s death in Infinity War doesn’t wrap up his story as neatly as it may appear to on the surface; truly completing his redemption arc will require him to confront this part of his past in full, and with it his guilt over everything he’s done and his fear that he’s wrecked his life and relationship with his family so thoroughly that he can never, ever fix them.

Loki: Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? […] Your ledger is dripping, it’s gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer… PATHETIC! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will *never* go away!

An additional giant red flag indicating we really should be asking more questions about that time gap is a group of lines in The Avengers which reveal that Thanos taught Loki how to use the Tesseract.

The Other: The Tesseract has awakened. It is on a little world. A human world. They would wield its power, but our ally knows its workings as they never will.

The Other: You question us? You question HIM? He, who put the Scepter in your hand? Who gave you ancient knowledge and new purpose when you were cast out, defeated?

Loki: I’ve seen worlds you’ve never known about! I have grown, Odinson, in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract and when I wield it— Thor: Who showed you this power? Who controls the would-be king?

Sharing that kind of knowledge and power with someone as volatile as Loki strikes me as an monumentally terrible idea (and as much as I don’t want to be the person who throws a tantrum because their fanfic didn’t come true, I’m kinda salty that Thanos was defeated without it coming back to bite him in the ass), which leaves me wondering what Thanos hoped to gain that he believed would be worth the risks. My thoughts on that particular sub-puzzle are still somewhat hazy, but my basic sense is that there’s something weird going on between Loki and the Tesseract and wanting to exploit that connection is one of the reasons Thanos went to all the trouble of breaking him into submission.

Loki: So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?

The other reason for Thanos’s interest in Loki ties back to all that emotional twistiness I talked about earlier: he planned to leverage Loki’s anger and resentment towards his family in a bid to destroy Odin and Asgard from the inside.

Zemo: An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead… forever.

As a prelude to this, during The Avengers Thanos had additionally tasked Loki with killing Thor as a way to prove his loyalty and destroy the last remaining shreds of his own humanity, a test Loki failed because he still loved his brother too much.

Coulson: You’re going to lose. It’s in your nature. […] You lack conviction.

What’s more, Thanos anticipated this, and the Scepter’s influence over Loki was aimed at forcing him to go through with it if he refused.

Loki: I won’t touch Barton, not until I make him kill you! Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear! And then he’ll wake, just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I’ll split his skull!

Lastly, even with Infinity War having established that Thanos simply gets off on emotional torture, that he would go out of his way to fuck with Odin personally by turning his second son against him leads me to believe there was a special hatred there stemming from some as-yet unrevealed history between the two. I mean, when I picture the alternate universe where Thanos shows up to attack Asgard with a corrupted Loki in tow like “You screwed up so badly that he chose me as a father figure over you” …that isn’t something you say to a complete stranger.

GRRM on writing villain POVs: That’s a comic book kind of thing, where the Red Skull gets up in the morning [and asks] “What evil can I do today?” Real people don’t think that way. We all think we’re heroes, we all think we’re good guys. We have our rationalizations when we do bad things. “Well, I had no choice,” or “It’s the best of several bad alternatives,” or “No it was actually good because God told me so,” or “I had to do it for my family.” We all have rationalizations for why we do shitty things or selfish things or cruel things. So when I’m writing from the viewpoint of one of my characters who has done these things, I try to have that in my head.

#mcu #loki #thor #thanos #odin #loki's missing year #theory #analysis #mind map #i swear i will turn this into an actual essay one of these days