#thoughts are actions. sometimes they hurt

[rivereverie]

Just some observations on Astarion learning to see that he is loved

I just saw a clip of Astarion's response to his partner cheating on him with Mizora and it got me thinking. While his entire reaction is very telling and meaningful in its entirety, one line stood out to me:

"I really thought there was more to you. That you were better than other people"

This was striking because it immediately reminded me of something else he says, in the scene after his siblings attempt to capture and return him to Cazador:

"You're the only one. Other people don't have a heart like you. You're you. No one is like that."

These lines feel a little odd at first, because Astarion isn't known for putting the PC on a pedestal. I don't think that's exactly what he's doing here. I think these lines are just capturing the inner chaos and contradiction that naturally come with the gradual unraveling of a long-held worldview. At this point, Astarion is able to process that one person cares for and accepts him, but only one. They must be an outlier: an exception to the rule. Surely they're something special.

Obviously this isn't true, though, and the next step is for him to learn that the PC isn't actually unique in their ability to accept and care for him him. In fact, Astarion is already loved by others and just doesn't see it. This line of his is beautifully contrasted by Karlach's reaction to Astarion's near-abduction. She is righteously angry and protective because she loves Astarion too.

"I dare Cazador to sent more lackeys our way. This is our territory. I'll crack anyone who tries to come into my house and hurt my people."

Earlier in the story, we get a similar moment during the confession scene, showing again how Astarion isn't always able to see the truth of what others feel for him.

When he says this, he sounds surprised. Like the idea of a friend is a revelation. This kind of broke my heart when I first heard it, because I thought it was obvious to him that he already had friends, in both the other companions and my character. But I think a part of him genuinely was stuck in that old thought pattern of assuming that anyone who showed interest in him just wanted to use him. This also makes it clear just how divorced sex is from affection in his mind and experience. Though they've slept together at least several times and grown more emotionally intimate too, Astarion still needs confirmation that the PC actually cares for him.

I made a post once about the two triggers for Astarion's confession here, which further reveal his mindset: going out of your way and into danger to get his scars translated, or choosing not to force him into complying with Araj's dehumanizing demands. Both of these things are concrete demonstrations of respect and care for him and what he wants. Astarion knows very well how empty words can be, so actions are what finally help him believe that the PC cares about him, and gives him the impetus to confess.

Later, If you break up with Astarion, his reaction is extremely telling in that he regresses slightly from this healthier mindset he had developed:

"I can hardly blame you. I don't exactly have much to offer right now, beyond new burdens to carry."

Typically, we witness any traces of Astarion's self-deprecation filtered through irony or dark humor, so his vulnerability in this moment is stark.

He claims that he has very little to offer, but that just isn't true. He may be going through a bit of a crisis, but he is still a shockingly good partner given the circumstances. He is unwaveringly supportive, caring, and clearly tries to lighten his partner's emotional load when they begin to feel the strain of responsibility. Not to mention, just being himself still makes him perfectly worthy of being loved. In any relationship, there will be times when one person needs more support than they themself can give, and that doesn't mean that they aren't enough. We're seeing, yet again, that he sometimes just doesn’t recognize how deeply he is valued by others. At this point, maybe a part of him still feels like he needs to be of service in order to be accepted, let alone loved. I also personally interpret this line as partially concerning his insecurity around not "providing" his partner with sex at this time, reiterating this deeply internalized belief that he needs to perform in order to be valued.

All of these little moments add so much subtly and humanity to his character, and make his development feel natural and earned. The payoff is clear after Cazador's death, when we get to see his new confidence:

He doesn't have to ask "really?" this time.

"You believed in me - believed I was enough just the way I am."

He truly knows now that he is loved.

[theamberparadise]

what would your hcs be for tim/masky and/or toby with a silly reader who is reaaaaally inexperienced but desperately wants to try a bunch of freaky stuff out... what would be their first thing to try? do they like playing a certain role? just stuff like that!!

also your writing/headcanons are bomb. dont die ever

MASKY AND TOBY x SHY BUT FREAKY! READER

SYNPOSIS; when a shy little sweetheart makes a lewd statement, Masky and Toby are taken aback… how do they react?

TW; d3gr4d4t10n, b0nd4g3, embarrassment/humiliation k1nk, sp4nk1ng, sl4pp1ng, ch0k1ng, b1t1ng, bru1s1ng, m0ck1ng, mentions of using hatchets in s3x

A/N; i am going to assume that this was a fully nsfw request……….. To this anon, i genuinely am so sorry

MASKY

You were sweet. Sweet as candy.

You loved Masky fully for who he is. You never hesitated to embrace his rough edges ever so gently like cotton. And when he inches even just a step towards your face, or when his gaze lingers on your face a little longer than he usually does, the pink glow on your cheeks reveals itself and you shuffle a few steps back.

So when you said you wanted to be tied up and ruined by nobody but him, a force blocks his body from screaming into the air, like an animal chained by a leash shaped like silent victory.

The moment you tell him your dark little secret, he is grinning under his mask like a maniac, which he absolutely is one.

Masky wouldn’t waste any time dragging you by your forearm in the bedroom. He doesn’t care if he leaves a bruise. You wanted this.

First thing on his mind is to restrain you. By any means possible. Scraps of dirty clothes? Perfect. The handcuffs in his pocket? Thank fuck he didn’t leave it. Tough rope he brought home after a mission? It would leave scratches and rope burns, but he likes seeing you ruined.

He wants to see you regret everything you said. And he’s going to enjoy it all with a low scoff and a glint in his eye.

His second action would be putting you in a position wherein he’s making you watch everything he does to your body. Masky wants you ashamed, ridiculed. Everything to make you feel dirty, because in his eyes, that’s what you are now.

Third? He wants to see your innocent body swell in pain, marks of paddles used for spanking being imprinted on your hips and ass sets him on fire.

Because if you turn out to be in the same fucked-up things he is? You’re not getting praised. You’re being punished. And Masky? He’s going to make it hurt.

He likes playing this fucked-up version of a teacher that doesn’t tolerate shit. And you’re a rowdy, trouble-ridden student that needs a good session of discipline.

The moment he sees you crying out of pain, desperation, and overstimulation, he spares no mercy. He might even mock you. 

“Poor baby,” he coos, his imitation of a girl's voice sending strings of embarrassment up your spine. “Little bitch didn’t get what she thought she wanted all along? She wanna stop?” your sobs are like heaven to him. Your tears strayed along your cheeks while you frantically shook your head. “No? Don’t wanna stop?” he swears he can’t stop smiling when you nod. “Then stop fucking crying!” your face was met with a harsh slap before he continues fucking you at a mind-numbing pace.

Masky honestly feels betrayed. Why didn’t you tell him you were such a fucked-up whore in need of a filthy fuck session? 

That doesn’t matter now. You can tick off all the dirty little things you’ve always wanted to try, because there’s no stopping Masky from giving you all the experience you need– whether you like it or not.

TOBY

You were an angel to him. An angel who despite all his gnarly scars and unsettling jolts, you still wholeheartedly place a kiss right on his pale, cold face.

He loves the way you blush when he snakes his arm around your waist. He loves the way you almost whine at even the most mundane body contact. He loves the way your eyes water when you’re overstimulated by his affections.

He’s been through a lot of things multiple times and sometimes he can even predict what might happen during difficult situations. But when you admit all your filthy little fantasies to him on a random Friday night, time seems to freeze and the air gets a little too stuffy.

Next thing you know, you’re trapped under him like a caged animal.

Thank god it’s Friday.

As soon as you finish off your bucket list of… oddities. Toby’s body jolts once before turning away from the tea you asked him to make. His head twitches to the side while the gash in his face emanated gentle jittering.

He’s quiet. So quiet. You could hear the crickets croak.

Then Toby beams. He beams like never before.

“D-damn, baby. Di-didn’t know you were into sh-shit like that,” he giggles, a shiver running down your back. “You get under my skin just right, don’t you naughty girl?” and with that, he hauls your body on his shoulder, giggling at your pathetic little hits.

For all his life, he has always been treated a dumb little twitching bastard that doesn’t know how to do anything. And that has extended to his proxy life, with Masky trailing behind him like a leech, sucking out everything Toby has in his body.

So when you tell him you wanted to do the dirtiest things despite not even having your first makeout, it was like divine intervention. No longer was he the rut of the litter. Right now? He’s the rabid fucking menace that was gonna ruin you tonight.

Toby would be the kind of guy that will swear that he’s going to be gentle on you– yet he never is. He would let you take the lead at times, especially if you’re getting a little needy, and when he wants to see all of you.

He wants to try something that can instill fear in you first. Maybe it’s him growling in your ear to fucking behave when you squirm too much. Maybe it’s him threatening to take a chunk of meat off your skin. Maybe it’s him bringing his hatchet into the game.

Then he’d like for you to take the wheel, allowing you to choke him while you bounce on him vigorously, spitting in his face whenever he tries to keep your hips down. Toby hates being told what to do. But when it was you who’s telling him to lick your cunt faster? He’s on it.

And after all that, he would take his power back and leave disgraceful marks on your body, be it his bites, his hickeys, bruises caused by him. He would laugh at your pathetic-fucked out face, mocking at the way you plead for him to slow down and make you cum, only for him to go agonizingly slow and deny your orgasm. “Please Toby, please I’m sorry please go faster,” you babble, watered-down mascara trickling down your temples and staining the pillows.

“Pwease Toby pwease,” he mocks, giggling at your pleading. His hand was on your neck, squeezing so deliciously while your eyes rolled back both in pain and in pleasure while he took his sweet, sweet time on hitting your g-spot. “Come on, baby. I thought you wanted this– unless you’d like me to stop?” you shook your head, frantically saying no, no, no and faster, faster please. Toby snorted, snapping his hips so harshly against your cervic, the tip of his cock throbbing at the new and sudden pace.

In short, Toby is ecstatic. He loves how secretly filthy you are, and while you kept it hidden from him all this time, it makes it as an excuse to go even rougher on you.

[blushingsastiel]

It's been three months since Theo has been gone, and honestly, Liam isn't handling his disappearance all too well. They know he's alive (he left a text message specifically for Liam) but that's all that they know now.

Is he still alive?

Is he doing okay?

Did hunters somehow stumble upon the chimera and kill him?

All thoughts hurt when they come pop up in the beta's head, and all in quick succession. When one thought about Liam appears in his mind, the others follow quickly and then it's just Liam spiraling again.

He's gotten better at not thinking about Theo as frequently but it's quite a feat.

Thinking about his stupid, perfect hair that falls across his forehead when he doesn't have any hair product in it (that's Liam's favorite way for Theo to style his hair).

Thinking about those small, rare smiles on Theo's face when Liam embarrasses himself or when it's been a particularly good day with the pack.

Or.

Thinking about those gazes that only happen between Theo and Liam. Those sacred shared looks where Theo ends up looking away first most of the time (because he can't quite look at Liam for long without wanting to either spontaneously combust or throw himself at the beta).

It's all he does is think, think, think.

About Theo.

Liam misses the chimera. Badly.

Immensely.

Sometimes it scares Liam how badly he longs for Theo (and hello, Liam is longing. What is he in — a bad romcom movie?).

Because he doesn't remember missing Hayden this much. That's not to say he didn't have a similar breakdown about Hayden leaving and ending their romance because he isn't saying that.

Hayden leaving did put a small hole in his heart, and he deeply missed her when she wasn't there with her soft smile, soft hair, and the way she made him want to be brave.

But, as always, it's different with Theo. Somehow, somewhere, Theo burrowed deep into his bones, beneath his teeth, and behind his heart, and Liam wasn't mad about it. He wasn't. Liam kept Theo behind his heart and probably always will.

Scratch that — Liam wanted Theo to always have his heart.

While before, pre-Theo-from-hell, would've used this to his advantage, Liam knows post-Theo-from-hell wouldn't. He'd probably rather die than betray Liam or any other member of the pack again (even though he would never admit it outloud — that's just not Theo but actions speak louder than words). Theo would try with all his might (because he's never been in love before) to handle Liam's feelings with care.

Liam knows this to be true... so why did Theo leave him?

//

The beta didn't expect to find out the reason just a couple of weeks later when he finds the chimera two hours away from Beacon Hills.

Just two hours away.

From Liam.

That's how far away Theo was from him.

Just two fucking hours away.

It makes Liam want to scream. At Theo. At the world.

At anything.

Liam wasn't even supposed to be at the town where Theo is currently residing, but his mom and step-dad had raved about this being the only place that had the good cheesecake that his parents wanted for their anniversary.

His mom had already made the order, so all Liam had to do was pick it up even though it was hours away. But, it was his parents anniversary, so if they wanted this specific cheesecake, he couldn't deny them.

Lo and behold, who was behind the counter when Liam walked into the small, but extremely busy, bakery? Theo, of course!

Just the chimera that Liam had been pining for months now, at this point.

Because that's how Liam's luck works.

He's so fucking angry at Theo. So angry that his anchor left him in the middle of the night without so much of a warning. Left him behind with a text message that said Thank you for everything but nothing after that. No other texts or calls from Theo.

It made Liam so frustrated just thinking about how much he hated these past three months without Theo beside him, down the hall in the guest room that had permanently became his room before he left.

(His parents missed Theo, too. At this point, he was basically a second son for them, and when Theo left, he didn't just break his heart. But like most parents, even if his mom and dad were upset with Theo for leaving, they wanted nothing more for him to just come home to them.)

Liam knew his chemosignals have to be spreading and enveloping the whole bakery, not alerting any other customers or employees, except one. Except Theo.

The chimera whipped his head up from where he was leaning over the counter, boxing up a delicious looking pastry, making eye contact with the beta.

After a few agonizing seconds where Theo didn't move away from the pastry and Liam didn't move away from the door, the customer the chimera was helping got his attention back with a confused smile on their face and a polite 'Excuse me?'.

Their trance was broken and Liam finally moved further into the shop with his heart thumping harder and faster than it ever has in a while. He can feel his shoulders dropping their tension the closer he gets to Theo and his scent. Even though Liam is annoyed at Theo, the chimera's honey and coconut scent has been an anchor for him for a while now.

(Sometimes Liam has to imagine Theo's scent and just his entire existence when he feels his anger about to boil over, especially during full moons. His imagination helps him as much as it can, but it's not the most secure thing as it could be if Theo was actually there in person.)

Liam is the next customer in line by the time Theo is done ringing up the previous one. He can feel his heart not slowing down, maybe even picking up in speed but there's nothing he can do about it now.

Theo must pick up on the fact because when they're standing face-to-face with the counter and display case full of different goodies separating them, his eyes flicker to his heart and back to his eyes.

It feels like that night in the elevator.

"How can I help you?" Theo asks, swallowing harshly once he's done. His face looks a little red, and he's biting his bottom lip a little, which makes it almost impossible for Liam to start talking.

Theo's lips. He's almost forgotten how plump and pink they are.

Liam clears his throat before he starts talking, not once letting his eyes leave Theo's. "I'm here to pick up an order under Jenna G."

The chimera nods before turning his back to Liam and going to the refrigerator that is behind him. All Liam can do is watch as Theo shuffles some things around the refrigerator before carefully grabbing a white, cardboard box that has Jenna G. sprawled on the side of it.

He places it on the counter and slides it toward Liam. "That'll be $24.80."

Quickly, Liam pulls out his wallet and takes out his credit card before handing it over to Theo. When Theo gingerly grabs the card, Liam makes a kinda rash decision. He grabs Theo's wrist, the card now in Theo's fingers, and squeezes lightly. "I need to talk to you."

Theo is back to biting his bottom lip as he eyes are blown wide. He's glancing between their hands and Liam's eyes. "Um..."

Liam squeezes the chimera's wrist harder. "Please, Theo."

"Okay," Theo relents, looking a bit weary but not entirely closed off (Liam counts that as a really big win).

The beta let's go of Theo's wrist and waits for the older boy to finish ringing up the cheesecake. It's a little awkward and tense (more than a little), but Liam doesn't let that deter him. If Theo is here, where he's picking up his parents anniversary pastry, it must be fate.

Without meaning to, the thought of Theo working as a baker makes him smile stupidly. For some reason, it seems fitting for the chimera. When they were living together, Theo made it his own personal mission to get good at baking.

At first, he was terrible. His pancakes were either overcooked or undercooked, never in-between, and it took weeks for him to perfect it. But once he got the hang of it, baking became such an important hobby for Theo. The older boy would bake for any special occasion or whenever he was stressed.

Liam especially liked it when Theo would bake for him whenever he asked the chimera to (the beta still remembers the sweet-smelling and even sweeter tasting of the chocolate pie that was Liam's favorite).

When Theo gave Liam back his card, the younger of the two couldn't help but ask the question that was burning through his mind since he realized Theo was right in front of him. "Did you make it?"

Theo ripped the receipt from the register and held on to it. "Yeah, I did. I didn't realize it was for your mom though."

"When do you have a break?"

Finally, Theo handed the receipt to Liam before answering. "Now, actually." Theo looks up from the counter to Liam's face.

"Perfect. Let's talk in my car," Liam says.

(He mostly says that because he knows the cheesecake needs to be kept in some kind of cool air, and his mom made him come prepared. She sent him with a lunch bag that was filled with ice packs to place the dessert in. His mom was always thinking ahead, thank goodness, but everything was in his car.)

When they got into the car and they both closed the car doors, Liam felt something in him snap.

Here Theo was, in the passenger side, just maybe a foot away from Liam. Here Theo was. Next to Liam. So close and yet, the distance between them has never felt greater.

What happened to them?

"So..." Liam starts, hoping to kick-start this (bound to be) uncomfortable conversation but it has to be done.

And, obviously, Theo didn't have the emotional capacity to start it.

The chimera continues to stare at the carpet, arms crossed over his chest.

Liam sighs, knowing this was going to be hard for the both of them. It was going to be hard to keep his anger and frustration in check, and it was going to be hard for Theo to open up and allow Liam to see a fraction of what he was hiding and feeling.

Something has to be done. "Theo, why did you leave? Did I— do something wrong?"

The words left a bitter taste in Liam's mouth. If it was true that Liam did something that caused Theo to retreat and eventually run away, it would kind of break his heart even more.

"No, no," Theo whips his head to look at Liam, words a little frantic. "You didn't do anything, Liam."

"Then what happened?! Why did you leave me — us?"

Theo shook his head and looked away again. Liam hated this. That Theo couldn't even look at him anymore.

Liam felt bitter anger seep into his words as he continued to talk since Theo refused to continue speaking. "You left in the middle of the fucking night. I think I deserve some kind of explanation. My mom and dad both miss you, too. You left everyone!"

The beta continues to barrel through, voice breaking in the beginning, "Why did you leave?"

During his spiel, Theo had dropped his arms from his chest and is, instead, clenching his hands into tight fists. "Do you remember what happened the day before I left?"

At the sudden question, Liam's anger reduces a little bit. "We were at Scott's house. It was a pack meeting."

"And then what happened?"

The beta doesn't understand what Theo is leading to but he answers anyways. "I don't know, we all watched a movie, and I think you fell asleep."

"When I was asleep, I had a nightmare, basically," Theo takes a small breath, "and my nightmare started off regular. About my time in hell."

Liam wants to grab Theo's hand and rub soothing circles into his skin. Theo's sentences are short and clipped, almost like he's re-living that day in precise detail. The beta doesn't like seeing Theo like this.

"But it changed. It was Tara, looming over me, but she didn't just say my name. She actually started to talk to me."

"What did she say," Liam gently asked. He felt like he was trembling, waiting for Theo's next words. The chimera was so close to disclosing what made him leave, and Liam almost regrets asking him, because it's obvious Theo doesn't want to talk about it. At all.

The chimera raised his head to stare at Liam head on. "She said I didn't deserve to be there. To be part of something. To be with you. She said I didn't deserve to be happy."

When Theo utters the last few words, Liam feels like his breath has been knocked out of him. It's not true. None of that is true, but Liam knows that Theo believes them.

"And I believe her. How can I, the one who killed her, allow myself to be happy when it's Tara who deserves that?"

The question is obviously rhetorical (according to Theo and Theo only!), but Liam opens his mouth regardless.

"Because you've changed, you are changing," Liam responds, words tight and sharp. He needs Theo to believe him this time, not the fucked up depiction of his sister that he has in his head. "This Theo that I know, not the Theo who was hungry for power, but the Theo that helps me study, and bakes for me whenever I ask, and drives me everywhere. The Theo who would do anything for any pack member. The Theo that already has. That's the Theo who deserves to be happy," Liam pleads, urging the chimera to believe him.

Theo exhales deeply, almost like he's resigned and the heavy burden in his chest and upon his shoulders still hasn't lessened. "I don't know how much I believe your words."

"Theo..."

"Honestly, Liam, I didn't even think you would care if I left."

There are tears glistening in Theo's eyes, but he doesn't let any slide down his face. Liam doesn't know which is worse — Theo not allowing himself to cry, to feel or Theo uttering the words that make Liam want to punch him or the steering wheel.

"Of course I cared that you left," Liam seethes. He's not looking at the chimera anymore, terrified to look Theo in the eye when he hasn't calmed down yet. Looking away gives him the ability to not say what an idiot Theo was because that's not what Liam had wanted to do when he realized he found Theo again (even if it was purely by accident and luck).

Liam wanted to try to convince Theo to come back home — to come back to the life the two of them had built. Living together and growing together and, overall, having a relationship that the both of them need. And the beta didn't want to mess up by antagonizing Theo or making the older man retreat back into himself.

"I have never missed anyone more than when you weren't there beside me. All that's on my mind everyday is you. So don't you dare tell me you don't think I would've cared that you had left because I haven't stopped thinking about bringing you back home," Liam says, voice deadly calm but on the verge of breaking.

The chimera is officially stunned when Liam is done talking. His eyes are blown wide and his lips are slightly open. Theo's mask is completely gone, not a hint of it anywhere.

"Home?"

"Yeah," Liam nods vigorously, "With my mom and my dad and me and... you. Living there with us again in your room."

"Home," Theo repeats. His expression has settled into a more relaxed face, but it doesn't take Liam long to read how genuine Theo is still being. He's no longer keeping his chemosignals and heartbeat under lock and key. In the air swirling around them and blanketing the two, Liam tries to pick apart the various emotions. He's not exactly great at it, but the most pungent and obvious emotion he can identify is hope.

It's not bitter, not incredibly sweet, but more mellow than anything else. Something in the middle.

"Yes, Theo," the beta stresses. "Please come back home with me. I'll help you pack up all your fucking stuff right now. I..." Liam hesitates, thinking if this is exposing him even more (as if the other parts of the conversation don't reveal, or at least hint, the incredibly strong emotions Liam has for Theo — correction, the love he has for Theo), "I don't think I can leave without you."

Theo breaks. He's crying before the two of them realizes what is happening. Theo isn't a loud crier; he's silently sobbing and he presses the heel of his palms to his eyes, hunching slightly forward.

(Liam really, really shouldn't be thinking this, but Theo is pretty crier. His side profile has never failed him before and it still doesn't fail him even when he's sobbing his eyes out.)

In between quiet gasps and barely starting hiccups, Theo replies, "I don't think I'd let you leave without me." The response is raw, the brutal, honest truth, and Liam couldn't be more ecstatic.

The beta snaps (he had been resisting the urge to touch Theo, try to calm him down and stop his tears) and he grips both of Theo's wrists in his hands and pulls. It forces Theo to dislodge but then Liam is tugging the chimera towards him, despite the center console blocking them from reaching any closer.

It doesn't stop Liam from throwing his arms around Theo's shoulders, squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's using some of his werewolf strength. He's hesitant about the way he moves, but Theo ends up hugging Liam back, tucking his face into Liam's neck and exhaling shakily every few seconds.

They will be fine no matter how long it takes Liam to show to Theo he deserves happiness, and no matter how long it takes for Theo to believe him.

(When the two of them finally arrive back to their house, Jenna and David demand the pair to retell the story of how Liam stumbled upon Theo.

"So... does this mean we no longer can get your employee discount at the bakery?"

"Jenna!"

"What, David?! It's a valid question!"

Later that night, Theo doesn't sleep in his room, but in Liam's bed. It felt wrong to separate and be more than a few feet away from each other, which meant both of them didn't want to sleep separately.

"Thanks for bringing me back," Theo whisperes, back to Liam's front.

There's a slant of space between them that Liam desperately wants to diminish. So, he does. The beta carefully and slowly inches closer, giving Theo the knowledge that he can choose to say no to Liam but that doesn't happen. Not long after, Liam is burrowing his nose into Theo's hair, smelling the combined scents of them. The chimera's posture relaxes even further, his back almost jelly, and he tentatively reaches for one of Liam's hands and guides it to wrap around Theo's middle.

There's no more room left between them.

"Thanks for letting me.")

[maxdibert]

The thing that gets me about that one post is where they said Snape *needs* to be straight and white because his reasons for bullying Harry are petty. Like, what does that even mean?? If James truly bullied Snape because he was already a blood purist and death eater like they claim, then what does it matter if he's black and gay? If it really was just a rivalry over Lily's attention, then there shouldn't be a problem right? Why are Snape's actions petty if he's white and straight, but somehow more legitimate when he has a different race and sexual orientation? Is pettiness only a white, straight trait? Are other people not allowed to be petty? Are white, straight people not allowed to be traumatized by bullying? They can only acknowledge it was traumatizing if its done to a marginalized group? Lmao I need their thought processes explained to me.

Yeah, so, there’s something really messed up going on with all this, because what they’re saying has like two layers, two different readings, and both are pretty disturbing if you actually stop and think about it. On the one hand, what they seem to be implying — without saying it directly but definitely suggesting it — is that someone who isn’t white and/or straight can’t do bad things. Like, that’s the takeaway. According to this weird logic, if you make Snape queer and racialized, suddenly nothing he does matters. He could literally be Voldemort, he could turn into a serial killer like Ted Bundy, and somehow he’d still be… untouchable or something, because that’s the unspoken rule. Since he belongs to a historically oppressed group, his actions automatically stop being questionable. And that’s incredibly dangerous, not just because it’s essentialist to the core, but because it basically means you're assigning ethical or moral capacity based on who you sleep with or how you look in the mirror. It's completely fucking absurd on every level.

But the second point is even more fucked up. What’s being implied —almost unconsciously but very clearly— is that if a white, straight, working-class person like Snape is humiliated, bullied, stripped in public, and subjected to systematic psychological abuse during his teenage years by a bunch of rich, powerful kids —because let’s remember, James and Sirius weren’t exactly struggling— then suddenly it doesn’t matter. Apparently, according to these people, that kind of abuse only counts if it happens to someone who fits into a particular identity category they’ve decided is worthy of empathy. In other words, trauma is only valid if the victim is part of an oppressed group. But if the victim is a white, straight dude, then he had it coming, right? Then it’s not bullying, it’s not trauma, it’s not something that could scar you for life or mess you up psychologically.

And that’s where it all becomes a complete mess. Because if we start from the idea that only certain people have the right to be hurt, to suffer, to have trauma, or to react badly to the things that happen to them, then what we’re doing is accepting a worldview that’s incredibly dangerous, one where morality is distributed based on identity categories instead of actions or context. And I’m sorry, but that’s not social justice, and it’s not fighting oppression. That’s just swapping one arbitrary system for another equally unfair one, just dressed up as progressivism.

And finally, what pisses me off the most about all of this is how deeply dehumanizing it is. Because denying someone the capacity to do wrong just because they’re not white or straight is just as absurd as denying someone the capacity to suffer because they are. Both things reduce people to symbols, to archetypes, to puppets in some ideological narrative. And that, to me, is the most dehumanizing thing of all. Because every single one of us has the right to be complex, contradictory, vulnerable and yes, sometimes petty or even cruel. There’s no identity that automatically makes you a better person, and there’s no skin color or orientation that exempts you from doing horrible things or from experiencing horrible things.

So yeah, I’d love for these people to explain their thought process, because either they haven’t thought it through at all, or —if they have— then where it leads is kind of terrifying.

[toscapringle]

Ragatha: I like people's take on her being autistic. I feel like she acts palatably (nice) towards everyone and quashes her anger to strengthen friendships. She has a surface level understanding of friendship, like friends are nice to each other, but doesn't understand that healthy friendships sometimes have conflict.

She literally tries to add comfort to her friends' world by framing it positively: "oh that adventure was not that bad."

She doesn't understand that when you have conflict, working through it will actually strengthen it rather than drive a wedge between you and the friend.

Hence she acts nice unless its justified from her perspective (Jax being "mean").

She also is accidentally abrasive, as an autistic person not seeing or seeing too late how something will affect someone emotionally.

Meanwhile, Jax uses violence as a defense against the pain and intimacy of having friends. He wants people to perceive him as not being their friend, while still struggling to hide his instinct to care about others. "I didn't think you cared about what other people liked." "(No) I just..." and then he's backtracking because he realizes he's having a Freudian slip, revealing his true thoughts, which happen to show he does care about others, and that they should care about him, which he can't bear to experience.

But he also calls people on their bullshit. He throws Gangle's mask to the wild beyond because he knows Gangle can't maintain a fake happy, as seen by episode 4. It's better to be honest and in pain than hiding your pain, an ideal he can't hold up for his own self.

This is why he beefs with Ragatha. He sees the shallowness in her approach to life and not only sees it as ungenuine, he also tags on that her friendship feels deceptive because of the lack of connection coming from her. I think he believes they're friends, but is annoyed by how she expresses her friendship to him. I think he also compares this type of relationship to his family's manipulative relationship with him back home (as assumed by his expression when he resonates with Ragatha's description of her controlling family in episode 5.)

He responds to Ragatha's unaploagetic positivity by criticizing her with his usual sass. Him wanting her to loosen up is showing through action, but not words, that she's a friend and no matter what she says she's still accepted. When she doesn't realize this is what irritates him, that she doesn't trust her friends enough to be sincere with them.

I think Ribbit is the only person who gets his sarcasm, can riff off it, and can see when he's genuine. In a way, Jax is isolated too. He hates evil Jax because he's probably the idealized nice polite pushover that his family wanted him to be.

Evil Ragatha is the most stereotypical evil one can be, saying negative things like "you're all going to get completely annihilated" "stupidgatha" "nobody loves you" these are all absolutes, in the same way all her positives are absolutes.

When Jax gets put in the maid outfit, he perceives it as different from his sarcasm and meanest because at least its justified. This is just cruel for the sake of being cruel.

When Ragatha actually apologizes, she first apologizes to Pomni. He then fishes for an apology on a whim in his usual critical sass, then is surprised when she actually finds something to be remorseful for and apologizes instead of criticizing him back. I don't think he was even expecting her to remember his hurt feelings from earlier (as he's so used to getting them brushed off by his own family) but they both can relate to how much true connection matters.

They're just having a hard time getting there because the lanes if communication are blocked.

[gideonisms]

I always wanna bring up my philosophical problems with Christianity to my younger brothers who are still into it and just say like “don’t you think this doesn’t make any sense?” but I don’t know if they have thought of those thing yet or would ever think of them on their own so I don’t dare cause the last thing I wanna be responsible for is disillusioning them :/

This is real. Idk a lot of times I have found that it's not logic that keeps people tied to xtianity and it's not even logic that drives them away. If they become disillusioned with it, that won't be your responsibility, and if they stay with it, that will also be their choice. However, if they are routinely expressing beliefs that bother you or you disagree with, imo it's worth it to make your disagreement known. Sometimes it's something you have to do for your own peace of mind, especially if it's stuff with an imperialist or gender essentialist vibe. In my experience, it probably won't be the thing that decides them one way or the other. And it shouldn't be! People have to think about these things on their own terms

[mrchoppedslefthand]

Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.

[demonpiratehuntress]

they make you cry

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - sometimes you just can't handle the things they say/do

warnings - angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

taglist - @kabloswrld

a/n - this took forever to write, and I'm sorry! had to fight my writer's block real hard to get this out ☠️ some of them seem rushed and im sorry about that too!

ZORO

Zoro could be mean, you knew this when you started dating him. He didn't mince his words, nor did he sugarcoat anything. Especially when he was angry, that's when he could be the cruelest. You just never expected to be on the receiving end of that cruelty.

You were just trying to help, honestly. You thought it might be a nice gesture if you wiped his swords clean for him while he napped, and you thought he'd appreciate it. But the moment you dropped them while putting them back and woke him up, it was like something had possessed him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, sitting up and looking at you, his eyes hard.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to clean them for you," you tried explaining yourself, hoping he wouldn't be too angry. Hoping he would calm down and stop looking at you like that.

"Why would you think that?" He scoffed. "I clean them myself, there's no need for you to do it. There's no need for you touch them at all, actually."

"I'm sorry," you apologised again, shrinking away and feeling hurt by his tone already.

"Just don't do it again," he snapped, "You don't know anything about swords. It wouldn't be such a problem if you were more like me and less like you."

"Less like me?" The tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, just go away and let me nap."

And go away you did. You left his room with your eyes almost overflowing, hand covering your mouth to stifle the sob that was about to come out. You didn't understand what brought that on, why he had been so mean to you.

"(Name), wait-"

You ran off the moment his door opened again, trying to put as much distance between him and yourself as possible. You were hurt, so incredibly hurt, that you barely made it to your room before you broke down in tears, burying your face in your hands. You tried to calm down, you did, but his unprovoked verbal attack struck you right where it hurt the most, your heart. You didn't understand what he meant by "less like you", and you didn't think you wanted to. It was insult enough already.

A knock on your door startled you, and you quickly wiped your face to try and get rid of the tears but your eyes were still red and puffy. Which was immediately noticed by the swordsman when you opened the door, and he frowned.

"Were you crying?"

"What do you want?" You asked him, sniffing. "Did you come to insult me more? Maybe tell me again to stay away from your precious swords? Save it."

"I'm sorry," he interjected, taking you by surprise. He shifted nervously, not really knowing how to apologise but wanting to try because you meant more to him than he could ever say and he hated that he'd hurt you.

"Is that it?" You scoffed, about to close the door.

"No, no wait!" He stopped you, swallowing thickly and looking at the floor. "You know I'm not good with apologies. But I mean it when I say I'm sorry for what I said. You were just trying to do something nice for me and I snapped at you because I was in a mood. The stupid cook annoyed me earlier and I...didn't mean to take it out on you."

You crossed your arms, trying to look mad but you only looked sad and it tugged at Zoro's heartstrings, "Okay."

His expression softened, and when you allowed him he pulled you into his arms and hugged you, trying to show how sorry he was through his actions since he couldn't say it. He rubbed your back soothingly, pressing a gentle and apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

"But if you speak to me like that again, I'm throwing your swords into the ocean."

He chuckled, "Deal."

He spent the next few days making it up to you in various ways, either buying you a special gift from any island you stopped by, or hugging/cuddling you a little longer than usual, or teaching you some moves with his swords to prove he trusted you with them. Eventually, when his overbearing affection started worrying the crew, you had to forgive him.

ACE

The crew was celebrating a big win. Stopping by a nearby island, majority of the crewmembers could be found in bars and taverns, drinking their weight in alcohol. You were amongst them, not drinking as much but joining the merriment regardless. You smiled at the antics of your crewmates, who were trying to drunkenly flirt with woman around the room.

Your smile vanished the moment your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was busy entertaining a crowd of younger women with the tale of your victory.

Now normally that isn't a cause for upset with you, but he tended to get a little overfriendly and even though you've spoken to him about it many, many times, he hasn't made an effort to stop his flirting - even if he didn't see it as flirting, those women certainly did. And that was the problem, he always let them think that and allowed them to get handsy with him.

You rolled your eyes, downing your drink so you could get out of here. When you lowered your pint again, the sight of one of their hands on his arm made you sick. Usually you would get angry and storm over there and break up the party, but today the sight brought tears to your eyes. It hurt you that he always did this, even when you'd asked him not to.

"(Name), where you going?" One of your crewmates asked you when they noticed you getting up. "It's still early!"

You forced a smile, trying to hide your glassy eyes, "I, uh-"

"(Name)!" Ace called you cheerfully, waving you over, "Come here!"

You frowned, then shook your head before turning and leaving the bar, letting the tears fall now that you were out of sight from the rest of the crew. Your vision blurred on the way back to the ship, but you somehow managed to get there without hurting yourself and broke down into quiet sobs as you sat on your bed and buried your face in your hands.

Sometimes it felt like you weren't enough for him, whether it was physically or emotionally. He could make you feel like the worst lover sometimes, like you couldn't give him what he wanted, even if he didn't mean to. You knew he had commitment issues, but you thought your relationship was getting more serious at this point.

"(Name)!" Ace burst into the room, looking worried. "Hey, why did you leave?"

You didn't answer, turning away from him and curling up into a foetal position facing the wall your bed was placed against. You couldn't look at him right now, not when the tears wouldn't stop.

"Baby?" He called again, the bed dipping beside you to indicate that he had sat down. "I know you're not asleep."

He reached out and gently touched your shoulder, urging you to turn around and face him. You sighed and shifted around, looking at him with a tear-stained face. His eyes instantly went wide and he flew into a panic.

"What happened? Did someone do something to you?"

"Ugh, stop it," you groaned, sitting up. "Don't pretend to care about me when you constantly do what I tell you hurts my feelings." Just mentioning it again brought the tears back, and you cursed.

He frowned when you said this, "But I wasn't flirting with them."

You gave him an exasperated look, "Do you ever realise that they consider it flirting? That they try to seduce you with all their little touches and stupid flirty smiles? No, you don't." You hastily wiped your eyes, now getting angry.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, Ace. You do this all the time. And it really, really hurts."

His expression softened, and he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap with ease. No matter how mad you were at him, your body never fought his touch or embrace.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into your hair. "I didn't realise they were trying to do that. I was so caught up in telling the story, especially the part where you took out all of those pirates, that I didn't see they weren't really interested. I'm sorry I'm so stupid."

The sincerity in his voice eased your mood, and you slowly stopped crying and pulled away to look at him, "Next time just ask me to come sit with you."

"I'll do better than that baby, I'll put you on my lap."

"You know that doesn't end well."

"On the contrary-"

You sighed and shook your head, unable to help the smile that formed on your lips. He really was an idiot, but he was your idiot and even if he did stupid things a lot of the time, you loved him very much.

KAKU

You and Kaku hardly ever fought, because he was a very patient and very reasonable man. He never gave you any reason to be upset with him, because while he was a ruthless assassin, to you he was an absolute sweetheart. The only problem was that he sometimes left for long missions, and you were left worrying about him at home and not knowing what was going on because he was deep undercover that he couldn't even contact you.

Like now, where he was working undercover as a foreman in Water 7. You had asked him once again if you could come with, seeing as neither of you knew how long he'd be away this time. But he refused, gently reminding you that he didn't want to put you in any danger and that your house - so far off the grid absolutely no one knew about it - was the safest place for you. You had no other option but to agree.

After many, many months spent worrying about him and struggling to sleep not knowing what's going on, your boyfriend stumbled in through the front door one night absolutely destroyed. You'd come down with one of his swords in hand - one that he kept around the house for you - only to stop dead at the sight of Kaku standing there. Actually, standing was generous. He was barely keeping himself off the ground, tall frame hunched over and trembling.

"Oh my god, Kaku!" You dropped the blade and rushed to his side, laying one of his arms around your shoulders so you could at least help him to the couch. "What the hell happened?"

"It's a long story," he groaned, laying his head over the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "Short version - the Straw Hats."

You frowned at his brief response, going to fetch your first aid kit - you'd learned after the first few times he came home that you'd need one - and bringing it back to him.

"I think I deserve an explanation," you pressed, sitting beside him and starting to tend to his more obvious wounds. "You owe me that much."

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled. "I'm sorry."

You didn't respond, and he cracked an eye open to see why. When he noticed how your eyes had become glassy and your bottom lip was trembling but you were biting it hard to stop it, his expression softened.

"Oh, honey."

He gently took the first aid from you and set it aside before bringing you into his arms, wrapping them around you securely. He pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head, ignoring the pain as he held you against his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"This is the worst I've ever seen you," you managed to get out, your voice small and hurt. "I had no contact with you for the longest time since you started working for them, and then you come back looking like this..." You couldn't help it, the tears just kept falling no matter how hard you tried to stop them.

He held you tighter, then moved one hand up to wipe your tears away, "But I came back, didn't I? I'm here."

You knew he was trying to reassure you, but it was difficult to be reassured when he constantly did this to you. You looked at him sceptically.

"Why would I ever risk dying?" He questioned softly, cupping your cheek in his large hand. "I have you to come home to, I don't put myself in a situation I don't think I can come out of." He kissed the tip of your nose, to make you smile like it always did. "Besides, did you ever think that maybe I like having you play nurse for me?"

You managed a small smile, warmed by his words, "Oh you do, huh?"

"Mhm."

"I guess I can forgive you. On one condition."

"Anything, honey."

"I'm coming with you on your next assignment."

"...I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope."

He sighed, but planted a loving kiss on your forehead, "If it will ease your mind, then okay. But you have to let me make sure your cover is safe too."

"Deal."

LAW

Law was a very complicated man, with a lot of baggage and trauma he liked to keep away from everyone else. He was reclusive, and he never quite expressed his emotions as healthily as he should. Most days you did your best to understand, to step back and be the more rational one. But sometimes his actions don't make sense, and he ends up hurting you a lot more than he thinks - or notices.

Take the last few days, for example. You two had grown quite close over the course of your relationship and he was now quite comfortable with you and showing you affection - although still privately. But ever since you'd met the Straw Hat crew and he'd been introduced to their smartest member, Robin, he'd been a lot more distant and a lot less affectionate. Like he was beginning to forget you existed.

You started to feel insecure about not being as intelligent as her and not having anything in common with your boyfriend. You'd never liked books, they paled in comparison to the adventures you embarked on on a daily basis. But now it had come back to haunt you, and in the worst way possible.

"Law, do you want to-"

"Not now, (Name)-ya," he didn't even look up from his work. "I'm just finishing some notes on something that Robin asked for."

"Oh, okay. Let me know when you're-"

"I will be heading to their ship shortly, she has a collection of books I would like to study."

"...Right. Okay."

You blinked back tears, knowing he would just get irritated with your emotional display. Turning away from him, you left the room to go get some air and maybe feel sorry for yourself. It did hurt, him immediately dismissing you for another woman, even if it wasn't romantic. He was spending less time with you, and more time with her.

"(Name)!"

Your face lit up, thinking Law had finally come to his senses. But when you turned around, you saw him making his way to the Thousand Sunny while Bepo was the one who had called out to you. And then you couldn't hold it back anymore; you burst into tears.

You usually didn't cry like this. You were good at keeping your emotions in check. It was a side-effect of being around the stoic captain so much - you'd learned how to control your own emotions. But right now, it was too much to bear and your insecurities and fears came crashing down around you, drowning you in sorrow.

"What's wrong??" Bepo asked worriedly, immediately pulling you into a hug. "Did something happen?"

"No," you hiccupped, "I mean, yes, but it doesn't matter."

Your eyes drifted to the deck of the Sunny, where Law was engaged in what looked like a meaningful conversation with the female devil fruit user. Sighing, you tried your best to wipe your eyes and gently pushed Bepo away.

"I'm okay, I just...I need to be alone."

As you walked off, Bepo followed your gaze and spotted the issue. He frowned, having also noticed that his captain had recently been preferring Robin's company over his own girlfriend.

"Captain!" The bear called, rushing over to Law and Robin.

"Not now, Bepo," Law dismissed him, returning his attention to the raven-haired woman.

"But something is wrong with (Name)!" Bepo protested, whoch was a half-lie, half-truth. There was something wrong, but it wasn't with you. He just knew Law wouldn't follow him back otherwise.

"What?" Law instantly felt worry start to fill him. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, I saw her just now, crying, and then she ran off."

Law frowned. He didn't like it when you cried. Not because it was irritating, but because he always got this weird, ugly feeling when you did. You should never have to cry, you should never have to feel pain. Instantly, he goes back to the Polar Tang but not to look for you. He just simply uses his devil fruit to get you back into his room, and when he does he feels guilty by the sight.

Your eyes are red and puffy and you're sniffing like you're sick, but you're not sick. You're avoiding his gaze and casting your eyes downward to the floor, unable to look at him. And you're hugging yourself.

"(Name)-ya," he calls, hoping to get you to look at him.

"I thought you were with Robin," you tell him quietly, the hurt evident in your small, vulnerable voice.

He frowns, "I was, but-"

"Then we don't need to talk about anything," you cut him off. "I'm fine, go bacl to your conversation." You can't help being a bit snippy, tired of crying and even more so of being sad.

"You have been crying," he argued, "That is my concern."

"Oh really?" You suddenly glared at him. "I didn't think you'd notice. But you didn't, did you? Bepo had to tell you, because you were so engrossed in your new girlfriend!" You scoffed, rubbing your face and getting up. "Leave me alone."

"No," Law blocked your path out of the room. "I want to talk about this. And...I want to apologise for hurting you." He paused awkwardly, never good with apologies. "I didn't mean to spend so much time with her and neglect you, I promise. I just kept losing track of time, and I got a little bit eager that someone else was interested in some of the same things I am."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled, "I'm sorry I'm not that person. I'm sorry I'm not your ideal girlfriend." The tears started falling again, and the ache returned to Law's chest.

"That's not what I meant," he moved closer, "You are perfect just the way you are. I don't want you to be like me, I don't think I could date someone like me. I often wonder how you do it."

Your eyes widen at the vulnerable revelation, and that leads you to start listening to his sincere words and slowly calm down.

"If I neglect you like that again, please just tell me," he pleaded, taking your hands in his. "Don't suffer in silence, I don't like seeing how it's affected you. And I don't like being the reason you cry. So please, just talk to me when I hurt you. Pull me away from any conversation, throw my books, whatever. Just make sure I listen."

"Okay," you slowly smiled, nodding. "But you can't yell at me if I do."

He sighed, but felt relieved that he was forgiven, "I won't."

"Great. Now you owe me a lot of cuddles and even more kisses," you pout. "And double the amount of hugs."

"Done, done and done," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you sweetly and gently.

LUFFY

If Luffy hasn't upset you in some way, you'd be suspicious. His carefree nature was bound to anger or frustrate you in some way or the other, and his tendency to overexert himself in fights often ended with you concerned for his health in general. He's never made you cry, because if there's one thing Luffy can do well it's keep his promises.

Until he meets Boa Hancock.

And you get it. She's gorgeous, she's powerful, she's a queen. She's everything a woman should be, and you can't help but feel envious of the attention she gets from men. Luffy doesn't really care for her looks, which is a little comforting, however she found the way to his heart and every time you guys met her on the ocean she had the nerve to throw him a huge feast. And your beloved, naive boyfriend always thought she was just being nice and gorged himself on her food, missing the way she looked at him longingly and not understanding her flirtatious advances.

But you understood them very well.

But as mentioned before, she's a powerful person. Not just because she's a devil fruit user, but also because she's a Warlord. You knew you couldn't piss her off in any way, for the safety of the crew, but she had no such qualms. It seemed she knew that you hated how much she attended to Luffy, she knew how much you hated her advances and how Luffy always ate whatever she offered. And she abused her title, doing it on purpose because she knew there was nothing you could do.

Most of the time it was just frustrating beyond comparison. But slowly it ate away at you, and one particular meeting had you excusing yourself in an attempt to escape what seemed like a suffocating situation.

Boa was once again on your ship - it seemed like she purposely sought it out just to see your boyfriend, and she probably did. Luffy was enjoying yet another one of her feasts, and she was sat right beside him. Touching his arm and saying sweet things to him like he didn't already have a girlfriend. Batting her eyelashes at him and offering him sweet smiles that would knock the socks off any man other than Luffy. Once again, he didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable it made you, and you felt your eyes brim with tears.

Maybe he did notice and just didn't mind. Maybe he did notice and actually enjoyed her attention like everyone else did. Maybe you had him all wrong in this particular situation. He had spent a long time with her on her island, after all.

"Excuse me," you mumble to no one in particular, rising from your seat and swiftly exiting the room. It was like you couldn't breathe, your throat burning as the tears started falling faster and faster, until you could barely see.

You were sure he hasn't even noticed you were gone. He probably hadn't even seen you leave. And that thought had you clinging to your pillow harder as you screamed into it, hot angry tears rolling down your cheeks in unstoppable waves. You were so hurt and upset that you didn't notice your room door swing open and a certain captain barge in.

"(Name)?" Luffy called, sounding confused. "Are you okay?"

You felt your body bounce a little as the overeager captain jumped onto your bed, but in your stubbornness you refused to look at him and turned away instead.

"Go away, Luffy."

Luffy was not used to hearing those words from you. Nor was he used to hearing the sadness in your voice, the way it cracked halfway, and the miserable sniff that came afterwards. He was not used to seeing you like this, so sad.

"What's wrong?" He tugged on your shoulder, trying to get you to turn back around to face him. "Are you sick? Is your stomach sore?"

"No, Luffy!" You sat up and yelled in exasperation. "I'm tired! I'm so, so tired okay!" You rubbed your face and curled up, thighs pressed tightly to your chest. "I'm tired of my boyfriend letting some other woman fawn over him with no boundaries. I'm tired of watching my boyfriend be sweet-talked and flirted with by some other woman. And I can't do anything, because she's a Warlord!"

Luffy's eyes went wide, and then he burst out laughing, "Are you worried about Hammock?" The incorrect name almost had you smiling, but you managed to keep your face stoic. "(Name), I only want you. You know that right?"

"Yes," you sighed, "And I trust you, Luffy. It's just...you never stop her and sometimes it makes me feel like I'm not enough. Like she does more for you than I ever could." Your gaze fell. "Sometimes I think you actually like her."

Suddenly his arms were around you and he was squeezing you in the tightest hug he'd ever given.

"I don't like anyone the way I like you, (Name)," he promised. "ANd I never will. You are the only person who makes me feel like this, and you do enough for me already. You cook for me! I bet Hammock doesn't even make the food herself. If it came to choosing you or her, it would always be you."

Your cheeks burned when he said that, and slowly a smile formed on your lips, "That's really sweet, Luffy. Thank you. I needed to hear that."

He nuzzled his face against yours affectionately, "I will remind you as many times as you want!"

SANJI

Sanji's most annoying habit tended to irritate you majority of the time, and every instance ended with you practically fuming and storming off after telling him off angrily. He would normally appease you with something sweet, or your favourite dish. In some extreme cases, both. But you never stayed mad at him, because he made it impossible for you to do so. You just never expected that one day the hurt would become too much for you to handle, and you'd react with sadness rather than fury.

The crew had been given the day off to explore another island. Everyone had split to do their own things, but the cook insisted on accompanying you because it was one of the rare times he got to spend alone with you for an entire day. So the two of you strolled through the vibrant town, enjoying the atmosphere and each other's presence.

That is, until Sanji forgot about your warning to not flirt with anyone on this island. He deemed it just being a gentleman, but you knew better than that.

When you caught him staring as your words faltered, you expected the usual bout of anger to flare within you. You were ready to tell him off again, a dozen insults coming to mind for that woman, when you felt a sharp pang in your chest instead. Your words caught in your throat, and a sorrow like nothing you'd ever experienced filled you.

Had he been staring the entire time you were talking to him? To make matters worse, he seemed to forget you were speaking and drifted over to the lady to compliment her dress.

You felt humiliated. No one here actually knew you two, but it was embarrassing that you couldn't even keep your lover's attention on you. Your cheeks burned, your throat along with them, and your eyes brimmed with tears. It was made worse when you glanced around at all the other couples, and found them happily clinging to each other and acting like they were the only two people in the world.

"What do you think, ma chérié?" Sanji's voice suddenly filled your ears. "Do you like it?"

You hastily wiped your eyes, trying to look like you did before, "Um, like what? Sorry, I wasn't listening..."

He didn't seem to notice the sadness in your tone or the forlorn expression on your face, he just barrelled on, "This pretty young woman's dress, what do you think of it?"

"A-are you serious?" You choked out, feeling the burning in your throat get worse.

"Yes! Doesn't it look nice?"

You couldn't take it anymore. You were hyperventilating at this point. Scared of being embarrassed further with your impending sobbing, you turned and sprinted as fast as you could away from the scene. He called after you, but you weren't listening.

He arrived at the ship at the same time you did, leaving you confused. You were about to push past him when he grabbed your waist, stopping you.

"Wait, my love, I'm sorry," he apologised, "Don't cry, please."

You smacked his hand away from your face, "No, don't. If you were really sorry, you'd stop flirting with every woman you see like I told you to! But no, you keep doing it." Your eyes watered again. "Do you have any idea what it's like? Seeing your own lover interested in someone else, not even listening to you?"

Sanji was speechless. He had no idea it affectef you this much, but he blamed himself for going on with it even when you told him not to.

"How would you feel if I flirted with every guy I saw?" You demanded.

"Oh no, please don't," he begged, heart sinking at the thought.

"But it's okay for you to do it?" You looked away, and his heart broke.

"I'm sorry," he apologised again, "I am, really. But I wasn't flirting with her, I promise! I was just asking where she got that dress because it looked so nice and I thought it would look good on you..."

Your eyes widened when you heard this, "Wait, what? Is that why you asked if I liked it?"

"Mhm," he smiled, "I wanted to get it for you if you did."

You were the speechless one now. All that time he had been thinking of you, and you'd gone and assumed the worst. Now you felt even more embarrassed, but for a totally different reason.

"Sanji, I-"

"No need to apologise, love," he immediately hugged you when it seemed like it was okay for him to. "I haven't exactly given you reasons to trust me not to flirt. But I promise, I am doing my best to not do it. I don't want to lose you."

He really was too cute to stay mad at, or even to stay sad about, and you ended up smiling and leaning in to kiss him.

"Fine, but do it again and I'm going to leave you for Zoro."

His face paled, "No no, ma chérie, you can't be serious! Love, wait! Are you serious??" And he followed you to your room, begging you to tell him you were lying.

USOPP

You were well aware that Usopp had had a romantic interest in a girl long before he met you. He would never tell you about her, but Nami and Luffy told you about her and what they knew about her relationship with Usopp. As far as you could tell, they had never done anything more than kiss once.

You felt like you were getting in the way of their relationship, and most days that thought just put you into an emotionless daze. You felt like you couldn't compare, because she seemed to be his first love. And as bad as this sounds, you started to feel like you were a relationship of convenience to him. Someone to keep him company while he longed for another.

"You know that's not true," Nami would reassure you when you confided in her. "He's not like that. He really loves you."

"I can tell he thinks about her sometimes," you argue, "And we don't know whether or not he imagines her in my place when we kiss or do anything remotely romantic. Who's to say he wouldn't go back to her if we somehow made it back to the East Blue?"

Nami couldn't give you the answer to that, and it hurt all the more. You tried not to let it get to you, you really did, but some days were worse than others. Some days you felt inferior, like you were not as pretty as she was, even though you'd never seen her. If he was so crazy about her to still be thinking about her months after he'd met you, he surely still loved her, right?

"Usopp, I have a question," Nami asked the sharpshooter one day.

"Uhhhh, no I did not borrow any money from you..." He replied nervously, eyes darting around the room.

The navigator's eyes narrowed, "We'll get to that later. Anyway, if we went back to the East Blue, what would you do? Would you want to rekindle your relationship with Kaya?"

Usopp's face paled, "What kind of question is that?!"

"Just answer!"

"I...I don't know!" He cried, then attempted to flee only to see you standing in the doorway, your eyes glistening. "(Name)-"

"I get it," you swallowed thickly, "She was your first love. I just wish you'd stop pretending like this relationship means anything to you." You turned and retreated to your room, locking the door and falling down against it, tears flowing freely.

You knew it was unfair. You knew he'd known her his whole life and you just a year. But you kind of hoped that since you'd actually developed what you thought was a meaningful, deep romantic relationship with him, he wouldn't have to think about it. You kind of hoped he would just choose you, simple as that. And you know it was unfair to him, and selfish of you. But you couldn't help it.

"(Name)!" The sharpshooter knocked on your door. "Please let me in!" He sounded panicked, like he did before you all went into a fight.

"Go away, Usopp," you yelled, but the pain in your voice was too clear for him to ignore.

Normally he would give up. He does that very easily. But when it comes to you he doesn't stop, and he never will. He hates leaving you on your own, especially when you're upset and even more so when he's the reason you're upset.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, "Let me explain! I never said I would! Please, just open up. Let's talk about this!"

"You can say what you want through the door," you told him, "Otherwise we don't talk at all." And yes, again this was unfair to him, but again you couldn't help it.

"I know what you must be thinking," he immediately started, "And you're wrong. Yes I used to love Kaya, and yes we almost had a relationship, but that was clearly not meant to be. Because I met you, and I fell in love with you, and I can't imagine loving anyone else now that I know what it feels like to love you." He paused for a moment, thinking of what else to say, and then, "You're the love of my life now, and I know that it will stay that way even if we were to somehow end up back in the East Blue. You are my girlfriend now, and I only ever want or think about you. Please believe me, it'll only ever be you."

Hearing all of this slowly calmed you down, and you didn't even notice when the tears stopped. His sincere, loving words hit you right where you needed them the most, and you stood up to open the door.

"You mean all that?"

"Yes," he looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. "Please don't break up with me."

"Oh, Usopp," you laughed and wiped your eyes, "I could never do that. Especially not after such sweet words. You're stuck with me."

"And hopefully always will be," he added, immediately hugging you and almost crushing your bones. "I'm so sorry (Name), I'm sorry I made you cry!" And then he actually started crying.

"Usopp..."

[luludeluluramblings]

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Five

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Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four

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Warnings: Pregnancy, Yandere themes, Fem!Reader, made up lore, Guns (Rubber bullets), mentions of termination, Bruce being really delusional, Conner being a bit of a creep, 3.2k words oops

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You can feel your heart rate rising and the blood rushing to your head so fast that you nearly grow lightheaded once again.

Multiple things happen after Bruce says those words, but you don’t care. Too focused on not launching yourself out of Conner’s arms and tearing into Bruce with your teeth. An effort you know would be futile, but how goddamn satisfying would it feel for his skin to break under those blunt teeth of yours? Very.

“Excuse me?” The words leave your lips before anyone else can utter a word.

“Bruce.” You’d even beaten Superman with your rage, but you shot him a glare of your own. Making his pause his attempt at playing peacemaker in this situation.

“Stay out of this, Kent.” You'd almost be disturbed by how much you sounded like Damian when he was annoyed with his friend. But, Clark wasn't your friend in this situation and you were willing to find out if he had a spine of steel at that moment with all the spitefulness bubbling on your tongue.

It’s a struggle, but you shove out of Conner’s arms and start to storm near Bruce. Not too close. No, you won’t get close enough for him to hurt you ever again. “Listen here you bat-mad-motherfucker—“

“Language.” The man interrupts.

The man being being Bruce fucking Wayne.

Bruce would admit he was a stubborn, but most importantly he was a paranoid and terrified person deep down. Possibly a fool with how enraged you were looking at him. But, this wasn’t pride controlling his actions. This was fear.

Memories of the stress Lois was under while pregnant with Jon. How sick she had looked. How he had been more than willing to help Clark then, but how foolish he thought the man was for putting someone he apparently loved in such a high risk situation.

All the statistical data he had memorized over the years from just regular pregnancies and their risk. Of the horror stories of mothers dying in hospital beds. Even flashes of his own mother's face when he had asked once for a sibling as a child only to see he smile with devastation hidden behind the same eyes she shared with you about how he was enough.

Later he had found the records. Ectopic pregnancy. Hysterectomy. He was lucky he had her until that luck ran out in that alleyway. She never spoke of it either. She didn't even mention it to Alfred or anyone Which made him ache and fear more.

But, now the ghost of her was standing in front of him like he was the gunman that night and glaring him down with a furry that he sometimes saw only in his darkest moments in puddles left on the Gotham pavement after long nights.

“I’ll say it in French if I have too. There is no we in this situation. Just me and my child. You are not included in this. None of the family is included in this.” As you berate into him he finds himself holding on to his fear. Clinging to it the same way he clings to the notions that your his little girl and he needs to keep you safe from the world.

“What you're carrying is partially Kryptonian fetus from an—“

“I don’t fucking care if this child was part Xenomorph. You have no say. No, God damn, say.” There's an awkward laugh from someone at the thought, but whoever it came from bites their lips and chokes it down.

“It’s dangerous.” Bruce finds himself insisting. It’s not about controlling you. He swears it isn’t.

“They’re my baby.” But, you’re his baby.

“You’re being irrational.” The argument spirals.

“You’re being an asshole.” Immature, yet true. He never claimed he wasn’t. But, he’ll bend logical to his will to protect you.

“You need to think clearly. This could jeopardize your health, your life, your safety. That thing is dangerous.” Bruce takes a step in your direction, only to watch as you take a step back.

“That thing is your fucking grandson.” Don’t say that. Don’t tell him what it is. It could hurt you, please don���t make him love it. Don’t make him remember that he didn’t get to hold you.

“I say no.”

“And I say you have no fucking say.”

“I am your father, you will-“ Wrong thing to say, because words start spilling from your mouth like a thousand little cuts. Biting insults and feelings that he suspected you had hidden, but didn’t expect you to hit him with like this.

“You’re just an asshole that fucked my mother. And, newsflash, you ain’t the only one that did that. Hell, I bet you weren’t even the best one at it. You’re just the only one that left something stuck inside her and nine months later I popped out for you to ignore.”

Each word of your anger feels justified in your mind . Nothing was off limits as the libel escaped your lips. Bubbling out of you chest was harsh words that you’d bottled up, but hormones fucked with your control and they slid off your tongue with ungodly ease as tears bubbled in your eyes.

"You chose Batman and Gotham over me.” You murmur. The sick realization you had that day he appeared into your life. He had known. Known about you existence. But, he left you. He had all the resources available to just... check on you. To let you know he at least somewhat cared. And, he didn’t.

“You think I didn't realize that when you showed up at Momma and Daddy's funeral to whisky me away to your haunted mansion? You could have come for me at any point in time. You can't say you didn't know I existed. You've just been really damn good at ignoring me."

Your own heart aching as you practically shout at him. Feeling like a little girl waiting for her dad to give her attention even though you’re not. Not anymore.

"But, I accepted that less than five months after moving into this empty house you keep on top of your real goddamn home." You remind yourself, you’re not a little girl. Even as you spin in that gave to show off what he had picked over you.

You already had a father. And, it wasn’t Bruce Wayne even if blood said otherwise.

"You didn't get to act like you have a say in my life now, if ever again. I'm grown. And, I will pick my son over you. Every. Single. Time. I want to be this child's mother more than I have ever wanted to be your daughter." The words true and concrete as you let your feeling pour out of you like a faucet. And, you look up, meeting the his gaze and you see…

He has that same stupid stoic expression.

And, that fills you with rage.

“You have a whole life ahead of you. Why are you risking it for a mis—“

“Don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence!” You snarl, moving to grab one of Jason’s guns from his thigh hostler in a surprising show of speed. Startling him and the rest of the family observing the absolute shit show going on in stunned silence.

There’s a few gasp and intakes of breath. But, everyone, including you, know it’s loaded with rubber bullets.

“If you dare call them that! Not unless you're willing to admit I was one too!” You hold it pointed at him. But, he doesn’t flinch. Doesn't even rise to your challenge.

Bruce, strangely, feels proud in this moment. Your conviction reminds him of his own. Reminds him of his mother. Reminds him of your mother. He knows he’s not going to change your mind. He knows he’s going to have to accept that.

But, he has to try one last time. You just don’t understand how dangerous this is.

“It’s too—“

You don’t let him finish, you lower the gun. Look him dead in the eyes and fire.

Normally, Bruce could handle a rubber bullet. He’s fought unpredictable criminals that play dirty all the time. He was prepared to expect anything from his children even.

He didn’t expect you to shoot him in the dick though.

“Oh, my god…”

“She shot the Batpole!”

“Jason, how strong are those bullet?!”

“She didn’t even aim!”

“Pregnant women are terrifying…”

Bruce can barely keep his composure as he feels his knees weaken. He may have been wearing his suit, armor and cup sewn in. But, that still hurt like a bitch.

But, it didn’t hurt as much as the way you looked at him before your next words made his world fall apart.

“I will be moving out soon.” You said, loudly. Announcing a fact, one that you refused to let anyone object too. The only sound after was Jason’s gun clattering to the floor as you carelessly let it drop from your hands and left. Without looking back.

Bruce swore, for all his screw ups, for all his miscalculations and fears that made him human, he’d get you back and keep you safe. And, if it meant you had your son in your arms, so be it. Besides, a baby might be good for the family.

Though as his eyes met Clark's he realized, this was going to be a new kind of battle all together.

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You made it back to your room and collapsed in exhaustion as the intense emotions started to wear off and leave you feeling empty. Only for that to last for six minutes before Stephanie was in your room.

You hadn’t even heard her knock. But, you weren’t surprised.

“You’re leaving?” Her shock over the matter was more astonishing to you. After all that, that was her concern?

"Honestly Steph, are you really that surprised I want to leave the manor?" You ask in disbelief as you slowly sit up on the mattress as look at her. Your hoodie has done well at covering your bump, but as you adjusted it was more noticeable. Though there was no point in hiding it now.

"Yes. Alright, maybe not. I just thought we were friends now." She tries to find the right way to describe the thoughts running through her mind. She doesn’t want to lose you. She just got you.

"We are. But, do we really have to be housemates for that?"

"No, but I'm just worried about you and the baby." It’s ease to come up with the explanation. Gotham is dangerous. Living alone would be dangerous. You need help. You need her.

"We'll be fine."

"But--"

"We will be fine." You interrupt, more firmly. Giving her a glare. The emotions from your confrontation with Bruce still apparent. Words still desperately wanting to be said.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest here. As a family, y'all are… unreliable. As Gotham vigilantes, y'all have actually done more for me." You try to reign in your temper. Stephanie really had become your friend and support in this place. But, it was too late for you to want to stay.

"Asking me to stay and raise my son in an empty house… That's too much. Plus you heard Bruce. He wants be to just get rid of my son. Like-- Like he doesn't matter. Like he's a thing. He's mine. My baby. I don't care what you say, but I can't forgive that."

"He didn't mean that you know." Even as Stephanie said the words, she could tell you have no faith in them.

"It doesn't mater that he didn't mean that. What matters is that he thought it so strongly that he still said it out loud. And, considering how few words the man has said to my in my entire life, I'm taking that to heart." Your words echo with finality, like that was the end of the argument.

For Stephanie though, it wasn’t. She knew that it wasn’t the end. She knew they’d pull you back. And, they would. It was inevitable. She knew Bruce wouldn’t let you go and that if you were this vulnerable everyone would do whatever it took to keep you safe.

After sending Stephanie away with the excuse you needed a nap, you were more than ready to fall into a fitful sleep and drool into your pillow without care when you got a knock at the door.

You gave it a sharp look. Considering how pissed you were at everything, you would’ve have torn anyone apart for disturbing you.

It just so happened that the person disturbing you was some one you physically could tear apart because they were part fucking Kryptonian and appearing in your door way with a stupid fucking apologetic smile.

“So… We should probably—“ Conner starts in that stupid voice of his. Everything about him stupid to you right now. His hair. His eyes. The way he’s bicep is flexing as he scratches the back of his head in a self-conscious manner. That doesn’t make your mouth water. Not at all. Pregnancy did that. You swear.

“What makes you think I have anything to say to you?” You quickly snap at him. Not wanting to hear his excuses.

Already he’s bringing out those stupid puppy eyes that make you want to bend over— no. Bad thought.

“I—“

“Wipe that damn pitiful expression off your face. You aren’t gonna give me some bullshit excuses about you being drunk—“ You know he couldn’t get drunk. And, if he somehow miraculously did, he’d do it with his team or with people he trusted. Not show up at some Gotham party. You didn’t need to be Batman’s spawn to deduce that.

“You’re right. You’re right…” Conner sighs, rubbing his hands over his face as he steps towards you trying to hide the way he shakes.

It’s so subtle that you miss it. But, he’s so fucking satisfied right now. So ecstatic about you carrying his baby. The fact that it’s a boy. The fact that you literally shot Batman for his son.

The way you look so good lying there in front of him with that sleepy pissed off expression makes him want to fall to his knees and kiss his way up from your legs to your lips. Let him feel how soft you’ve become. Let him feel what he did to you.

“I just… I was there. I heard you complaining and I thought I’d check on you. And, you— You are a very clingy drunk.” He does attempt to explain, honestly. But, he’s too enthralled right now.

“And, let me guess, you just couldn’t resist.”

“No. I couldn’t.” Conner wouldn’t lie to you. Not if he could help it. “Even if I had the willpower of a Green Lantern or the discipline of a damn monk, I couldn’t have.” He murmurs with rough honesty as he inches towards you.

“You have no idea how deeply you make me feel. I know it was wrong. I gave myself a million excuses. That you weren’t that drunk. That we’re good enough friends that we wouldn’t regret it. That you might— Feel the same about me…” God, the way your eyes widen and your breath hitches has him feeling lightheaded. Your heart speeds up and he can hear it.

“You’re talking like you’re in love with me.” Your tone is spiteful, even though the emotions in your chest are mixed.

“Yeah, I am. And?” Fuck, this is not how he ever wanted to confess. But, it’s not like he can contain it much longer. Not when he’s so close to having everything he wanted right in his grasp.

“I’m not scared of saying it. I’m scared of scaring you. Of being kept away from you. Of not being about to hear your heartbeat every day, letting me know you’re alive. That you’re somewhere in this word giving me a reason to exist.” He pleads, he grovels. He knows it was wrong.

He didn’t mean to take advantage of you. He’d thought you’d remember. Remember how he made love to you. How he had spent that entire night leaving gentle bites across your skin and holding you so close he nearly bruised your skin.

You can feel your eye’s prickling with tears again. Seeing his stupid face. Hearing his stupid voice.

“Just— Just get out!” You snap, unable to handle the mixture of feelings. The way your heart is aching, breaking, and repairing itself.

“Out! Out!” You yell, throwing one of your pillows at him.

“Okay. Okay. We’ll talk later. Just rest, please. You need it. For you and our baby, sweetheart.” He murmurs, clutching the pillow in his hand as he steps back and lets you have your space.

You grumble and glare as he leaves. Wondering if you offended him by wanting to be alone as you angrily curl in your bed.

You don’t see him standing outside your door. Shoving his face into the pillow you’d thrown at him and inhaling your scent. Noting the subtle ways it’s changed in his absence and how he can’t wait to bury his nose in the crook of your neck again.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You had woken from your nap, feeling the frustrating urge to pee. A common feeling you were growing uncomfortably familiar with as you moved further along in your pregnancy. You gently rubbed your bump as you grumbled to the bathroom. Quickly finishing so you could go back to bed. Only, you heard another knock on the door.

Instantly your ire is spiked as you march towards it expecting to tear into Bruce or Conner, only to be taken aback when you see Dick. Standing there with a soft look. Not unlike Conner’s stupid look earlier.

"Hey…"

"What do you want, Dick?" You’re half tempted to shut the door in his face.

"Easy now." Now you’re seventy-five percent tempted to shut the door in his face.

"I really don't want a big brother lecture from you or anyone right now. So disappear or whatever. You just as bad as—"

"I'm not here to lecture you." He quickly interrupts, knowing that your next words would hurt. Which, he'd let you hurt him. Not because you were special or anything. He's let anyone in this family hurt him to make themselves feel better. But, you had never tried and he could tell you were aching. Making it a little easier for him to want to take every bit of damage from you.

"Well, that's nice." Was you dry response before you looked back at him with suspicion. "Did Bruce send you?"

"No." He answered, technically honest. Dick may have suggested the idea to Bruce on the premise that you needed a space to cool off before you did end up in some shady apartment on the other side of Gotham. And, Bruce may have approved of his plan. But, he was already going to go through with it regardless.

"I'm here to make you an offer."

"And, what sort of thing could you offer me? You don't exactly have a lot of experience with this sorta thing last I checked." Comes your sharp retort, expecting some fake concern or him trying to play peacemaker.

But, when you hear his actually offer, you’re stunned.

"Come stay at my apartment in Bludhaven."

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@bunbunboysworld @ellaprime7 @bad4amficideas @victoria1676 @nebulousmoon3990 @n-lol @ellelabelle @vanessa-boo @twinklingbeautifulstars @wisefuncherryblossom @mybones537 @pato-spoiler-27 @darktrashpoetry @kitkatkitmeow @eyeless-kun @love-zami @cloudserenity @roseapov @nommingonfood @minkyungseokie @nervousalpacalady @allycat4458 @shadowytravelerlover @faimmm @otterluver05 @ousama-tobio @gabbiegabbie24 @timotheechalametswifeys @princessninii @sweetsugerskull @exactlynumberonekryptonite @sillysealsies @caged-birdies-blog @sirenetheblogger @wpdarlingpan @h0neysiba @jjsmeowthie @00hellohello00 @agsggebhzgehkfisnx @agsggebhzgehkfisnx @misokins @chenlelover @twismare @ssak-i @tacodeemon @momentomoribitch @redkarmakai @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @heyitsaloy @grossstinkygoblin @sg-obsessedfreak @anakilusmos @alittletiredcry @stargirl404 @bath1lda @kittzu @numbu5 @stickyricewithmangosauce @nessielovesfood @atanukileaf @sukaretto-n @nommingonfood @bunniotomia @jensenacklestoothpick @jellystar-star @calicocat-ina-tuxedo @yl90 @angelbelles @jayjayjayson @quotesandanime @sleepyghoster @sheep-from-rad @obsessedwithromance @ferchu0406 @insomniaallnight @simpingfor-wakasa @radiantdanvers @yuyuzi-ling @lunayaps @fantasyhopperhea @fae26 @butterflycardigann @bycstop @ddeliajo @justanerd1 @haniyaasads @bellethesleepypotato @izarosf1833 @izarosf1833 @alwaysholymilkshake @iamapotatoe @cxcilla @revelintales @nuttyrebelflower @sra7riddle-malfoy @obsessedwithfanfiction @pearlyribbons @creat0r-cat @nickey-diano @craulo13 @moonstonedust24 @anamiranda7383 @fto6 @burningkittenprince @senhoritaapple @plus-ultra-girl @oliviaewl @dragons-h0ard @1abi @lonely-star2044 @smiller975 @feedthefandoms995 @wpdarlingpan @type-ink @91-kya @lovebug-apple @cqerrz @zomqiez @hearts4mica @godoreo22 @wonderlace19 @bi-forest-fire @rainschnael @hopingtoclearmedschool @lover-girl009 @doggyteam2028 @shinning-stars @vrsin @k-sv @unearthlykara @biscuitsx @sleepy-sapphic-hooman @needstotouch-grass @ashxmulti

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I think the taglist is getting kinda long, I don't know if I should close it.

A/N: So, yeah. I've been letting this marinate for a while because I felt like words weren't enough to make Bruce pay. We needed action consistent with Reader's character. (I laughed for two days after the idea of shooting Bruce in the dick struck me.) Also, we really getting into the creepy bits now. Been mentally playing with my spidersona and the Batfam while trying to my energy levels back up post treatment. Plus, May is just a really busy month for me.

Ko-fI Link

[schizononagesimus]

also hey can we talk about violent psychosis for a sec. cause i really appreciate all the talk surrounding psychosis positivity and stuff but a lot of it is "we're not all violent! sometimes hallucinations can be positive!" like sorry mine are not. im scary psychotic.

im "cant have anything that even remotely could be used as a weapon in the house" psychotic. im "if i miss my meds one day i have to go to the hospital for homicidal and suicidal thoughts that literally aren't my own thoughts but theyre controlling my actions" psychotic. im "im seeing horrors you cant even imagine to the point where i dont exist in the same world as you anymore" psychotic.

im not going to hurt you, i just need help. when im rocking in the corner talking to myself at 3am, remember that i am in a state of terror. im afraid for my life. i either genuinely believe everything is trying to kill me, and i only know one way to deal with it; or something is telling me to be violent or else it will kill me; or i have dissociated so hard that i autopilot myself to violence to try and wake myself up.

some of us are violent, and that's okay, because it has to be, because it's the truth. just get us help.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

you'd never let me fall ・b.c

—Bangchan who carries you home while your a little drunk and your feet a lot a bit hurt

paring・bangchan x gn!reader // genres・fluff, established relationships // words・900 // warnings・drunkenness, if you don't like rambles or tooth-rotting fluff than you won't like this

a/n・i needed something soft and fluffy after a pretty big fight with my dad and i found this also @sunnysdiary istg i dont know what i would do without you ilysm. p.s. lowkey proud of myself for finally just writing (i only edited once for like an hour :))

You were exactly two blocks away from your apartment when the handful of shots you had thrown back earlier really started to hit you. The sun had died hours ago, the sky now sparkling with stars that seemed to dance and tangle with the streetlights in your vision.

Wow.

You were really fucked up.

You sigh, leaning deeper into the crook of Chan's neck, his hand pressed protectively against your back as he holds you up. His breathing is soft and calming when the world begins to shift again, sharp pain shooting up your legs thanks to the stupidest decision you made all night—wearing high-heels.

The only thing that could be heard over the harsh click of your foot-shaped-death-traps is your pained groan as you loll your head against Chan's shoulder and stumble over the sidewalk mindlessly.

"I'm tired, carry me home," you slur, a slight whine in your voice. He simply smiles, looking down at your dizzy gaze with tender eyes before effortlessly scooping you up bridal style.

The moon grins with you.

Your heartbeats intertwine as you squeal, lovesick giggles pouring from your lips as you hide your face in his sweat-coated neck.

There was no way he was real.

You pull away, blinking up at his sharp jaw and shiny lips, and you swore if you looked just long enough you could find the stars hung on his lashes. There was something about him, something that spread warmth underneath your ribs. You could never quite place it—the feeling bursting within you before settling down like sweet rose perfume fading off your shirt as your nose acclimates to the scent.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that made you so sentimental, or how in a rush of emotion you remember days when you used to assess others by their expressions, the tone of their voice, and the heaviness of their footsteps. You had gotten so used to living on the edge of disaster the thought of certainty deemed to be an impossible feat—that was until you met Chan. He was something special, he loved you softly, with gentle fingers and adoring gazes. He wasn't loud, not with his words or his actions, and sometimes from the outside, society might have deemed he didn't love you at all, but you knew better than that.

Just because it was subtle didn't mean it wasn't there—it just meant it was safe.

The notion alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, drunkenly choking out: "Thank you for always carrying me."

His gaze softens before he faintly tilts his lips, muttering, "Thank you for letting me carry you."

You were almost to the house when, mindlessly, half-asleep, you mumble, "You'd never let me fall," before going limp in the comfort of Chan's strong arms.

If you weren't so drunk, you might have noticed the shift in his stride, how a shy blush falls over his cheeks and he fights the urge to spread a smile so bright across his face it would put the sun to shame.

But you were far too gone to notice. And he was so focused on keeping you safe that he didn't sense how deeply in love with him you were right then.

You were correct; down to his very last days, he would never let you fall.

You hadn't realized how close you were to the apartment before he steps through the unlocked door, your vision blurring into the darkness of your shared home. It was the silky sheets you felt first, the warmth of his hand leaving you only before he gently pulled the covers over your body and right underneath your chin.

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering there before, hesitantly, he whispers, "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't get to carry you."

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your eyes as you crack them open only to smile, lopsided and silly. "I guess we'll never know."

Bangchan stares at you for hours after that, admiring you in all your tranquility. He knows he should stop, but he also knows he can’t. It had bottled inside him for so long, and it felt as though the rug had been ripped out from under him, and suddenly his feelings flooded out of him all at once. This wasn't what average love felt like—it was pure, gentle, and, best of all, entirely absolute.

In the novels, love is described as something maddening, profound, and disorienting. And while there are moments where it felt as though the galaxy had been sewn into your fingertips, it was more than that. Chan quickly came to find that love lived in silence—the intimate moments where words didn't matter. There was no pressure or unrealistic expectations when he was with you, no anxiety about being perfect all the time. Being with you made his world feel... lighter.

He breathes, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. You shift, instinctively leaning into his touch. A small smile tugs at his lips when the moonlight catches your face just right; you were peaceful, angelic like spring flowers fluttering in the breeze.

There are very few things in this world that are truly poetic. Some may say the stars, the sea, humanity, and the very depth of our emotions. And while Chan could agree with all of those, his love for you outweighed them all.

please don't forget to reblog with tags or comment what you think your feedback makes my day 😁

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐬 — 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: Chris is obsessed with your tits.

Warnings: Smut, pervy Chris, obsessive Chris, body worship, and more.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00: Pretty Tits

Your chest was something your boyfriend was very fond of. He couldn’t help but ogle you, sometimes forgetting you were his girlfriend as you stripped and changed in front of him. Every inch of your body was absolutely mesmerizing to Chris, but your tits…they had that man under a spell. 

The relationship had still been so new when you realized how much your body affected Chris. You weren’t even official. Light teasing had Chris turning red as you called him out for staring at your cleavage. 

01: Teasing

“I…–’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I–” he rambles on, trying to save an ounce of dignity. There’s a fear that’s telling him he’s making you feel uncomfortable, but you’re more than comfortable when you realize the dynamic. 

You have all the power over that man. 

You pet his bicep, sitting on his lap as he swallows thickly. He gulps audibly, his eyes watching your tits bounce as you get comfortable. “--’s okay, just couldn’t help yourself, hm pretty boy?” you taunt. Chris nods with wide eyes, trying to maintain eye contact and miserably failing as you push your chest up against his. 

“Oh my, fuck…what are you doing to me…” he grunts out softly as you laugh into the crook of his neck. The hairs on his arm stand. Every teasing breath you leave lingering on his skin leaves him breathless, heaving at the fact that you’re pressed up against him. 

Tracing the tip of your nose along his jaw, you grasp his cheek. His eyes look at you with a lustful glance filled with awe. “--’m just havin’ fun, Chris,” you purr with a slight grin. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Chris squints his eyes shut in an attempt to calm his filthy thoughts–-thoughts that were all about your breasts. He imagined how you’d moan while he got to suck on them, how you’d squirm. The sensitivity of your nipples was flashing through his mind with a desperation to find out. He needed to know how hard he could nibble on the buds with you gripping his hair hard. 

“Fuck,” His response is dry, but his shaky tone makes your heart pulsate with excitement. 

02: Hurts

Progressing further into the relationship, Chris became more comfortable in his fascination with your tits. He showed zero shame most of the time, but sometimes…the shame he held while begging on his knees was inspiring. 

“Please, ma. Just…I jus wan ‘em in my mouth,” he whispers while staring down at your nude breasts. 

Sure, he had sucked them plenty of times, but nothing quite as hungry as this. 

You’re grinding down on him, his briefs covering his hard cock that seems to be profusely leaking excessive amounts of precum. The movements of your body had made your tits so enticing to him, so intoxicating. He already had begun sucking them, but you pulled him away as his teeth kept nibbling with more aggression on the sensitive buds. 

“Chris, no biting—”

Shaking his head, he starts adjusting your position. Gently laying you down, he crawls up your body, leaning his weight between your legs against your pussy that radiates heat onto his lower abdomen. He can feel how wet you are, he wants to see how wet he can get you with just his mouth on your tits. 

“Relax,” he litters small affectionate kisses, softly fondling your breasts. “--m gonna make it hurt so good, baby. Just–pull my hair and tell me if it’s too much, m’kay?” 

“I–” his lips suction around the bud of your tit, sucking with loud slurps as his fingers pinch your other nipple teasingly. “--oh–okay,” your hips have a mind of their own as you subconsciously start grinding against his lower abdomen slowly. 

“Mhmmmm…” Chris hums, not releasing his mouth from your body as he smirks from your reaction. Your soaked pussy desperately trying to create friction on his lower stomach has him filled with pride, progressively letting his actions increase in passionate motions and intensity. 

Broken shrieks and moans leave your mouth as he lets his teeth clamp with just enough pressure, it’s almost unbearable, but it feels fucking good. It really feels fucking good. Chris is able to analyze this by your pussy dripping hot slick down his abdomen as your hips increase in pace.  

“Mmmm, yeah?” There’s a slight lisp to his words as he only pulls his lips open, not his teeth. The pressure around the sensitive bud makes you melt in blistering euphoria. You could cry. It feels so good. “--so wet, ma. Drippin’ down to my cock, shit,” he rasps.

03: Hurts More

It’s further down the line when Chris develops a slight annoyance for your bigger chest. He hates how much they poorly affect you at times. 

Your first sign of your period arriving was your breasts becoming so sensitive they felt like bruises. It hurt. Sometimes even walking too fast down the stairs nearly had you in tears from the pain and discomfort. 

Chris was trying to comfort you. Usually, he’d lay in your chest while you pet over his hair at the end of the day, but as soon as he had let any weight fall onto your sensitive body, he jolted up when he heard the pained shriek leave your mouth.

“What’s wrong? Baby, what was that?” he asked, his eyes searching your body for any bruises or signs of pain. 

He’s listening intently as you explain your body’s way of warning you about your upcoming cycle. The scowl written over his face is for a multitude of reasons—he’s upset you’re in pain, he’s upset he caused some of that pain, and he’s livid that he has to be cautious and keep his distance because of some bodily function that doesn’t quite make sense to him. 

“That’s fuckin’ stupid, I’m sorry. Want me to massage you, baby? I can be extra soft on ‘em,” he offers. You nod, desperate to find some sort of relief in your aching joints and tense muscles. 

After massaging your entire body and taking his time, he finally gets to your chest. He’s delicately letting his fingers soothe the oil into your skin, his facial expression relaxing as he hears you hum with relief. 

Your body in his hands is mesmerizing–the obvious tent in his pants confirms this. He can’t help it though. It’s his body's natural reaction to having such pure perfection in front of him. 

“Want me to suck you off or something?” you suggest, half-joking. 

Chris shakes his hand, continuing his ministrations as he plants a very gentle kiss on the mound of your breast. “Mm-mm, wan make my girl feel better. Don’t worry about me, just relax,” he says.

04: Worship

Years together and Chris still worships your body. His hands grip your hips as he thrust himself into you slowly, sucking on your bouncing tits as he keeps a steady rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck–right there!” 

Your scream encourages Chris further. His dick pounds into just the right spot over and over again. Teeth clamp down with passionate lips surrounding your tit as he sucks the skin in harder. 

“Right here, baby?” he taunts. Crying out, you moan loudly as you feel the buildup of pleasure combust with too much bliss spreading blistering heat throughout your body. Your bones are practically vibrating as your pussy squelches against his cock. “Yeah,” he speaks with his words falling from the corner of his mouth, his mouth unrelenting as he praises your tits with attention. “--righhhht fuckin’ there…” he coos. 

“Oh, Chrissss!” you whine out, beginning to become overstimulated. Chris tuts as he pops your tit from his mouth. Holding your hips, he drags you down to his hard length, hitting deep inside you as he furiously chases his own orgasm. 

Noticing his sputtering hips as he becomes compliant to his bodies unrelenting squirms and writhes, you take over. Your hands clasp on his shoulders as you ride him with complete control and lazy huffs of air escaping through strained moans. “Fuck, Chris, can’t take much more, please,” you urge. 

His hands both reach out to your tits, groping them harshly as his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Oh my god, baby, oh my fuckin’ god,” his mouth slides open further as his head whips back. “--m cumming, cumming for you, fuck,” his hands are squeezing onto your bouncing tits desperately as he hisses and lets out a string out hard moans. “--my pretty fuckin’ girl and her big tits, hm? Mmmm—my big tits, all for me, huh? Oh shitttttt…” he trails off, his hips slowing and breathing becoming slower as he finishes inside of you. 

Harsh heaves of air slowly calm as you sit still with his dick still inside of you. Chris peeps open his eyes lazily, leaning forward to kiss your breasts. Laughing at his antics, you ruffle his hair. 

“What are you doing?” 

Chris is quick to answer your question with zero shame. 

“Kissin’ my pretty tits, ma. Duh.” 

[yzzart]

YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.206!

Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.

Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?

But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.

Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.

At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.

He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.

Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.

That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.

The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.

“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.

Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.

“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"

Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.

Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.

“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.

“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.

“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.

A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.

When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.

Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.

"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.

Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.

Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.

You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.

“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”

Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.

“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.

[crowofmidnightsworld]

In your dreams | Caleb

Caleb x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: You and Caleb had fallen asleep in your bed, watching movies. In the middle of the night you wake up by something, or rather someone, rubbing against you. Warnings: MDNI, needy/desperate m, cursing, possessive m, finishing inside, love confession

Word Count: 2.4k

He couldn't take it anymore. It had started off so innocently. You and Caleb decided to spend the night in, watching movies, since it had been raining all day and there had been nothing else to do.

It had been a fun night, especially because you had recently started to trust Caleb more again. You're slowly letting him back in, but sometimes it truly felt like you couldn't live with or without him. He made your mind go crazy, because he wasn't your brother anymore and you were starting to doubt if he ever really was, confused about your feelings for him.

And now you're lying in front of him. His arms wrapped around your middle and you had felt so safe, that you dozed off. Unlike Caleb. He has been awake the entire time and relished the feeling of you lying in his arms. Pressed against him as tight as humanly possible and his mind couldn't stop going into overdrive. He had realised years ago that he had never seen you as his sister. At first it had scared him, because the thoughts he had had about you were something no brother would ever dare to think of his sister.

When those thoughts first entered his mind, he tried to distance himself from you but as soon as he noticed how much that had hurt you, he stopped, even if it had been torture for himself. Over time he started to justify his thoughts. His cravings. And he realised that he hadn't seen you as his sister, even when he was a young boy. You were like sunlight that had to be protected, and that's what he did. Especially when he realised how many people wanted to hurt you. He was content with killing anyone who dared lay their hands on you or even look in your direction. You were his. His obsession. His sunlight.

For the hundredth time tonight the smell of your coconut shampoo enters Caleb's nose and he can't stop himself from burying his face in your hair again. He hates that he feels like this about you, his mind and his feelings contradicting in every possible way, but as long as you don't know about it, he's content with how things currently are. Until you start talking and moving in your sleep.

At first a chuckle bubbled out of Caleb, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake you up, but your words start to become more clear. An incoherent string of words like "Yes", "Right there" and even quiet moans coming out of your mouth fill the room, and Caleb immediately goes rigid. He can't believe what he's hearing right now, not sure how to deal with this situation, but then you push your hips against his. And you say his name. His name.

Every colour in Caleb's face drains, his mind going a thousand miles an hour, when he notices that familiar feeling of his pants tightening around him. Fuck. His first thought is to pull away from you a little bit, but the second he moves even an inch away from you, he hears you whining in protest and he immediately stops. Caleb's heart is about to burst out of his chest, because that's what he had been imaginging almost every night. Every night he was alone at Skyhaven with his cock fucking into his fist, or even back when he was training to become a pilot.

Only a few seconds later he realises that he has started grinding his hardness against you, needing to feel that friction. Needing to feel you. Does he feel bad about it? Yes. But you're making all these pretty sounds and you're saying his name, so he tries to justify his actions with that. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, slowly moving one of his hands under your shirt. The need to feel your skin, to feel you, overpowering his rational thoughts.

And that's when you start to wake up. At first you think you're still dreaming and you feel this pang of guilt. You always felt it when you had these dreams about Caleb, but they just wouldn't stop. Too afraid to deal with those feelings, you never really tried to think about what you truly felt for him. And you are so scared of losing Caleb, if he ever found out about this.

The grogginess of sleep slowly lifts from your brain and that's when you feel it. Strangely the feeling of someone grinding against you, touching you, doesn't leave and you're completely confused. Until you hear the shaky breaths of Caleb so close to your ear. Your face instantly feels like it's on fire, considering how good his movements make you feel. And you hate yourself for a second for wanting him to keep touching you. Feeling the need to let him know that you're awake, that you know what he's doing, you finally speak up. "Caleb?".

Caleb hears you but he's already too far gone. His grip on your stomach only tightens and his mind is at war. He should stop, he knows that, but then again, he has been waiting for this for so long. "Please...Please...Just this once, Pipsqueak". The sound of his whiny voice, begging you to let him continue, almost makes you dizzy and now your entire body feels like it's on fire. Caleb is still grinding against you and from that alone you just know he's packing. He just makes you feel good and you honestly don't want him to stop. That's why you gently grab his hand that has been under your shirt for a while now and you guide it up to your chest. That's your answer.

As soon as Caleb realises that you're allowing him to keep going, that you actually want this, he feels like his brain is about to explode. The soft and warm skin under his hand feels so right and he immediately notices the hard nipple, brushing against it. "Fuck, you really want this, huh?". Now his lips are brushing over your shoulder and the slight growl in his voice makes something deep inside you tighten. If he only knew for how long you've been cravingthis.

Caleb's lips feel so soft on your shoulder and you move your head a bit to the side, just to give him more room to play with, which he immediateyl takes advantage of. His lips trail over your shoulder to your neck and he gently starts to suck on that sweet spot, drawing more of those sweet sounds out of you. The sound of rain pattering against your bedroom window disappears, drowned out by your quiet gasps and by Caleb's erratic breathing.

Everything about this situation is overwhelming you, but you need even more. You need to feel him. That's why you grab his hand again, with which he's currently gently flicking his fingers against your hard nipple. "Don't make me stop... I can't...". He sounds even more desperate than before, biting into your shoulder to make you stop, as his hips start to grind against you even harder, but you have other plans. "I won't. I just need you to...". Not being able to finish your sentence, a small part of you still feeling like what you're doing with Caleb is wrong, you wordlessly guide Caleb's hand down to the hem of your shorts.

For a second Caleb stops everything. With a tight grip on the hem of your shorts, he's now just breathing against your neck and you can feel his heart hammering against your back. He won't stop. He knows that, but he also knows that once you two cross that line, it'll never be as it was. Your heart also feels like it's about to jump out of your chest, the mixture of anticipation and need making your own breath speed up. And that's when Caleb slowly pulls down your shorts. His fingers are grabbing your shorts and panties at the same time and suddenly you find yourself lying in your bed with Caleb behind you, completely bare. Never in a million years did you think inviting Caleb to a movie night would end up like this, but you're so glad that you did it.

Moving his hand away from you, you can hear Caleb pulling down his own pants and before you can even feel his cock anywhere near you, that intense feeling in your middle grows stronger. Before you can think about what you two are about to do, Caleb pushes his hard cock in between your thighs and he can only growl, when he feels how wet you are. How your slickness is already covering him and his hand quickly moves to your hip, holding on tight. "Tell me, Pipsqueak. What were you dreaming of?". That question alone makes your face heat up again, but at the same time only whiny sounds leave your lips. He feels so good against you, rubbing his tip against your pussy at such a fast pace, hitting your clit with it every time. How could you tell him that you had been dreaming of that one night a few years ago, when you two kissed. That you wished he would've done more that night?

"How long have you been dreaming of me like that? For how long have you wanted to be mine?". He just won't stop. Caleb had always loved teasing you but now is not the time for this. All you want is for him to take you. To finally still that hunger you've felt for him for years now. You simply start to grind against his hard cock, willing him to accidentally slip inside, but Caleb's hold on your hip just tightens. Holding you in place. Another whine escapes your lips, but Caleb doesn't chuckle. He is just as much of a needy mess as you are right now, but that doesn't stop him from teasing you. His breath feels hot against your ear, making a shiver go down your spine and it's the most infuriating yet delicious feeling you've ever felt.

"Because I've been wanting to do this for years.". Without any other warning, Caleb finally pushes the tip of his cock into you, not entering you completely yet. A loud groan rumbles through Caleb's chest and all you can do is throw your head back a little bit, moaning. He only has his tip in you and yet you already know that he's big. Just like you knew he would be from the beginning. After a few seconds of letting you adjust, Caleb continues pushing into you in the most agonizing, slow way, as his teeth sink into your shoulder again. Rolling back your eyes at that sensation, feeling Caleb inside you to the hilt, you take in a deep breath.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust and kissing your neck again, Caleb starts to move. His thrusts are slow at first and it feels so good. Way better than it has ever been in your dreams. "Imagine how many times I had to fuck myself in the past years because of you.". Caleb knows exactly what he's doing with his words and you know he's saying it now to get a reaction out of you. Despite not wanting to give in so easily, you start to clench around Caleb's cock, earning a haughty chuckle from him. He's filling you out completely, drawing more moans out of you but it's not enough for him. "You really had no idea how much I wanted to fuck you, make you mine, all these years...".

His thrusts become faster after this. In this moment Caleb can't be the sweet boy for you. He need you to know that you're his and only his. That you always have been his, even though you didn't know it. The sound of your skin slapping against his, satisfying something primal in Caleb and he's just pistoning in and out of you. Your moaning and whining gets louder in response to that, since Caleb is also hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You definitely can't think straight anymore. All you know is that this is right. This is where you're supposed to be.

With how fast and rough Caleb is pounding you, you feel that familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, and from how Caleb is groaning and breathing against your ear, you know that he must be close too. "Caleb, please... Finish inside". For a second Caleb has to force himself to keep moving, even though his brain is short circuiting right now. He has been wanting to fill you up with his seed from the beginning, but he never would've thought that you'd allow it or even beg him to do this. Something snaps inside him and somehow he manages to pound into you even harder. His grip on your hip tightens even more, sure to leave marks on you, but you don't mind.

After a few more thrusts, you finally feel that tight knot deep inside you breaking, and you cum like you've never done before. Starting to see white spots in front of your eyes out of pure pleasure, you throw your head back even more, your eyes rolling back. Your entire body is shaking, as you scream out his name and your pussy starts to clench around Caleb's cock. And that's it for him. "Oh fuck, I love you.". Groaning out those words, Caleb spills his seed inside you and he repeats those three words over and over again. You can feel him twitching inside you, as he fills you up and you feel like you could come again, just because of his confession.

Ever so slowly Caleb's thrusts slow down until he isn't moving anymore, but he stays buried inside you. His sweat covered forehead rests against your shoulder and you're both trying to catch your breaths. You have never felt like this for someone before and you realise that you don't want to anyways. If you could you would stay here with Caleb forever. Never letting him go again. "Did you just say you love me?". Your question is exactly what Caleb expected but he doesn't mind. His breath is still heavy as he gently kisses your shoulder again. "Mhmm, I've loved you for years, Pipsqueak.".

[luna-azzurra]

Emotionally reserved characters

Instead of openly sharing their emotions with others, they keep their feelings locked inside, letting their inner thoughts do all the talking. You get a glimpse into their mind, where a storm of conflicts, doubts, and desires brews quietly beneath a calm exterior. This internal monologue allows readers to understand what’s going on inside their head, even if they don’t show it on the outside. It’s like seeing the world through their eyes, where every little thing stirs up a wave of emotions that they never express out loud.

For these characters, actions speak louder than words, but even their actions are restrained. They communicate their emotions through the smallest of gestures—a slight tightening of the jaw when they’re angry or hurt, a brief flicker in their eyes when they’re surprised, or a controlled change in posture when something makes them uncomfortable. These tiny, almost imperceptible movements can say so much more than an outburst ever could, hinting at feelings they would never openly share. It’s about what they don’t do as much as what they do.

When they do speak, every word is carefully chosen. Emotionally reserved characters don’t ramble or spill their feelings in a flood of words. Instead, they speak in a measured and controlled manner, always keeping their emotions in check. Their sentences are concise, sometimes even vague or indirect, leaving others guessing about what they’re really thinking. It’s not that they don’t feel deeply, they just prefer to keep those feelings close to the chest, hidden behind a mask of calm and composure.

For these characters, what they do is often more telling than what they say. They might not say “I care about you” outright, but you’ll see it in the way they go out of their way to help, the quiet ways they show up for the people they love. Their actions reveal their emotions—whether it’s a protective gesture, a silent sacrifice, or a kind deed done without expectation of recognition. It’s these unspoken acts of kindness that show their true feelings, even if they never say them out loud.

They often have strong personal boundaries. They keep their private lives just that - private. They don’t open up easily and are cautious about who they let into their inner circle. They might deflect conversations away from themselves or avoid sharing personal details altogether. It’s not that they don’t want to connect, it’s just that they find it hard to lower their walls and let others in, fearing vulnerability or judgment.

When they do show vulnerability, it’s in small, controlled doses. These characters may have moments where they let their guard down, but only in private or with someone they deeply trust.

Sometimes, emotionally reserved characters express their feelings through objects that hold special significance to them. Maybe it’s a worn-out book they keep close, a piece of jewelry they never take off, or an old letter tucked away in a drawer. These symbolic objects are like anchors, holding memories and emotions they can’t express in words. They serve as tangible reminders of their inner world, representing feelings they keep buried deep inside.

When these characters communicate, there’s often more to their words than meets the eye. They speak in subtext, using irony, implication, or ambiguity to convey what they really mean without saying it outright. Their conversations are filled with hidden meanings and unspoken truths, creating layers of depth in their interactions with others. You have to read between the lines to understand what they’re really saying because what they leave unsaid is just as important as what they do say.

Despite their calm demeanor, there are certain things that can break through their emotional reserve. Specific triggers - like a painful memory, a deep-seated fear, or a personal loss - can elicit a strong emotional response, revealing the depth of their feelings. These moments of intensity are rare but powerful, showing that even the most reserved characters have a breaking point.

Over time, emotionally reserved characters can evolve, gradually revealing more about themselves as they grow and change. Maybe they start to trust more, opening up to those around them, or perhaps they experience something that challenges their emotional barriers, forcing them to confront their feelings head-on.