#Basically it's harder to pin point who's at fault

[oifaaa]

I want to strangle Ian Wayne. Who tf thought that was a good idea??

Imagining making Damian Al ghul Wayne actually say the lines "I hate the name Damian I want to be called Ian" DC actually hired someone to write that in one of their preteen graphic novels

[naavispider]

I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?

This is a very big question, in my opinion, and seems to have divided a lot of people depending in their answer. I think I can see it both ways. Spider is clearly a child that has grown up without a stable parental figure, and has lived his life trying to fit in where there seems to be no natural slot for him to do so. I do think he is relatively well adjusted, he's formed strong relationships with those his own age and he clearly has strong morals, all of which are accomplishments in themselves given the circumstances. Anyone else in his position would obviously struggle to deal with so much (being displaced by war, not having a stable family, and generally being an outcast by the tribe). If you add the daddy issues on top, which have provided him with a fluctuating sense of identity ever since he was old enough to understand who is father was, it's no doubt that Spider is definitely a special kid and extremely strong to have been through what he has, and come out the other side remarkably 'unharmed'.

We also can't ignore the fact that he was outrightly mistreated throughout his childhood as well. This is more obvious in the comics from the comments made by Neytiri, but there is also all the subtle ways in which he was excluded from the People and made to feel like an outcast. The kind of social isolation he suffered from clearly had an effect on him and is obvious in the way he has a complex about trying to impress, and not let anyone down, ever.

Your question asked about whether it's valid to say that Spider was neglected. In short, I think the answer is yes, but it's harder to pin point by exactly who and for how long. Individually, most of the adults in his life treated him with kindness and respect, and often fondness. I'm sure that Norm and loves Spider, too (and probably Max). But what makes him neglected is that by itself, that kind of treatment isn't enough for an extremely young child. What everyone seemed to miss while he was growing up is the lack of a parental figure. The McCoskers clearly weren't actually interested in raising Spider like their own, so that fell short; as a result, nobody else stepped up and Spider went without paternal or maternal love.

In my mind, the McCoskers are definitely guilty of neglect. The question of the other adults is murkier, because they are not directly at fault and Spider was really not their responsibility. However, in my opinion they did not do all they could to emotionally support Spider through his identity crisis and feelings of belonging. As such, I would say they emotionally neglected him.

That was a long and winding answer and I know that others have hashed this topic over at length before, but those are my two cents! 🥰

Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? Yes, I reckon so. When Spider was very young it would primarily be around safety and where abouts in the compound he should be, when. The McCoskers were probably responsible for bedtime routines and ensuring his basic needs were met, and I can see them being pretty harsh with that (for example shutting Spider in his room). As he got older and the McCoskers' attention turned to their own sons, they started to care less and less about Spider and creating firm boundaries. As a result he became a much wilder spirit and then the scientists would have had to put their own boundaries in place. By this point though, Spider was a young teen and probably all they could do was tell him off (which would work for a while). I can see the other scientists begging Norm to talk to Spider when he accidentally broke a piece of lab equipment.

If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? Jake would clearly be much harsher towards Lo'ak. I can see him just sending Spider back to the shacks, aware that Spider is not his son and nit his responsibility. In fairness to Jake, he personally struggles a lot with how to be a good father and isn't confident with the two sons he already has, so mentally I think he's distancing himself from Spider on purpose, because he's afraid and doesn't want to take on even more parental responsibility than he is already having to contend with. Lo'ak and Spider would meet up after and Spider would ask Lo'ak how bad it was. Lo'ak would probably moan that Spider is lucky he doesn't have to brunt Jake's anger, and Spider would outwardly agree.

Sorry it took me literal months to respond to this ask! I'm working my way through them 💞💙💞💙

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Seven: Dodgeball to the death

You all had been sleeping absolutely terribly the past couple days because Harold fucking snores. So at breakfast, Duncan was trying to eat but could barely move, and you had passed out in your porridge. "Duncan, you look like death dude." Chris's overly cheerful voice rang out.

"Sick it." Ducan hissed before putting his head down on the table. Courtney explained their predicament.

"Wow, four nights without sleep. How much is she hurting dude, how much are you hurting dude? I kinda want to test how far it takes to break, you both." Chris smiled like a maniac. "Want to find out?" Duncan hissed.

Instinctively your whole group hid under the table, getting used to Duncan's anger. But one small snore coming out of your mouth quieted him.

Then Harold walked in with a drawn on mustache on his face causing the place to erupt with quiet giggles.

"That was me!" You raise your hand lazily. Heather began to taunt your team, causing you to throw a knife at her pinning her hair to the wall. "Get your attack dog under control." Heather yelled terrifed trying to get her hair unstuck.

"She don't bite." Duncan waved her off. You smiled weakly flipping her off. "Yes she do!" Heather screamed.

Chris walked in then. "Listen up campers, your next challenge starts in ten minutes, and be prepared to bring it." He announced as you tipped over onto Duncan passing out.

-----

You were playing dodgeball. Everyone had already gotten to the little ring, but Duncan was trudging behind. Once he walked inside he pointed at you looking mildly pissed off. "If you wake me up, it'll be the last thing you do, L/N." You rolled your eyes. Whenever Duncan was tired he got angry.

"This is all your fault, you know?" Courtney hissed at Harold.

Chris explained the rules making it seem harder then it needed to be. You were okay at dodgeball, it was basically like a prison riot. Chris gave you one minute to discuss strategies. Apparently Courtney could read your mind because she said-

"There is no way we are having Little Miss Crazy play. She'll kill them and get us disqualified." The girl whined and you growled. "Don't call me crazy." You hissed dangerously pissed as you stalked over and sat down by Duncan.

The games went on and your team got decimated by the Screaming Gophers. You weren't surprised. Yet, Courtney persisted with her idea of not having you play. So you watched.

You watched as Harold got his ass beat by LeShawna, Heather beat Tyler's ass, Courtney beg for a disqualification, DJ hit poor Gwen, it was a very interesting expierence.

Cody pulled a wild ass move out of his fucking ass. It looked impossible but he used the ball as a boomerang. Everyone was getting pissed on your team, yet Courtney persisted.

You played with Duncan's hair as he slept, and he subconsiously leaned into your hand, mumbling in his sleep. Whenever the other was close, the nightmares seemed to stop. It was... helpful. So when everyone was out on your team... again. Courtney gave this speech. "We need someone, tough, someone who wants to beat the other team to death." Everyone looked at Duncan and you.

"He'll kill us if we wake him up." DJ whispered his fears. "He won't kill us... I hope. He wants to win just as much as us." Courtney sighed not looking so sure. "Now wake him up, Y/N." She ordered. "Why me?" You laughed. "Your the only one who'd stand a chance against him in a fight." She explained and you shrugged. Made sense.

You pushed Duncan off the bench and he stood up growling. "You better have a good reason for pushing me off the bench, pincess." He nearly yelled in your face making you take a step back. "We're down two to zero. If we lose I'm going to make sure it's your ass that gets voted off, sunshine." You yelled back, making him retreat now. He may be your bestfriend, but your fucking Y/N L/N, you don't back down for shit.

He finally realized what was happening around you. "This is dodgeball, why don't you just play, you destroyed the boys last year at the anual game?" He sounded more confused then mad now. "That what's I'm saying, but miss goody two shoes thinks I'll lose my shit." You pointed at Courtney. "That's what I'm here for?" He pointed at himself.

"That's what I said!" You laughed.

"My only condition is that Y/N's co-captain. We both play, or no one plays." He explained to Courtney who nodded. "Here's a stratagey I picked up on our first visit to juvie."

You laughed remembering the event.

"It's called: rush the new guy." Also known as the first time Duncan got his ass beat in juvie rendering him with a broken collarbone and a double concussion. In shorts terms, you all converge on one person while playing dodgeball.

Soon enough you were dominating the game.

It had gotten to the point where it was 2 wins to 2 wins. This was the final game, to decide who won. It went from five players on both sides, to four, three, then two. It was a neck and neck game.

Then it was Harold vs Owen. "Well I can't say it was nice knowing him." You muttered. "Good night, Harold." Duncan sighed squeezing your hand.

But somehow the ginger dodged every ball thrown at him. "Where'd you learn to do that?" Geoff asked the boy. "Figure skating." He replied proudly. "Figures." Duncan shaked his head. Courtney told Harold he was going to have to catch the next ball thrown at him.

Which miraculously, he did.

Your team erupted into cheers. People hugged, but Duncan twirled you before bringing you back into his arms. "Wake me up again and I'll fight you, L/N." He whispered smiled kissing the top of your head. "I'd like to see you try, tiger." You smiled kissing his cheek causing the boy to blush.

You guys were getting closer by the second.

---

|Trending on X right now|

#THEYAREINLOVEYOURHONOR

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#christmas!twodaysaway!

#covid19

#itdontbitememeswithduncanandy/n

--------

"Nice dodge skater nerd." Duncan 'complimented' Harold as you and DJ carried him on your shoulders cheering his name.

----

If you had asked Courtney, or the twin bestfriends, or Bridgette where you had fallen asleep they would've lied straight to your face and said in a bathoom.

If you had asked Geoff, Harold, or DJ where Duncan had fallen asleep they would've lied and said by the lake. In reality there was two people fast asleep their bodies entangled on Duncan's bed.

Duncan layed flat on his back with an arm as an extra pillow, and your head layed out on his chest, your hair falling down your back. You both were fast asleep, he had his hand sleepily playing with your hair twirling it around in his fingers and you had your hands attached to his shirt twisting it in your sleep.

Duncan wouldn't mind.

He never minded when it came to you.

[soleminisanction]

I just went through most of your character rants and analysis and I love them so much!❤️ It’s so nice to find someone with a lot of the same opinions as me, especially after seeing a good bit of Tim hate in TikTok comments lately. I love the animatics and cosplays on there but it sucks that it seems like it’s seen as cool to be nasty to Tim’s character over there, or maybe it's just the comments of the videos I get? It’s usually people thinking he’s a misogynist or that his character steals from and or makes other robins look bad to hype him up. I don’t get these comments because I feel like all of the bats have been written with misogynistic dialogue at some point, even the girls! I don’t understand why people latch this on to Tim as some big character trait. Maybe it’s some joke I’m just not understanding. Also with the bringing other characters down to prop his character up, isn’t that what pretty much every character that is currently in the spotlight does at some point (like Steph’s Batgirl run infamously does to Babs and Tim)? Why do they attribute this only to Tim? Also, all the robins steal traits from each in adaptations and other comic runs, again why do they act like it’s a Tim only thing? Basically, all the other Bats do what they claim they hate Tim for?! It’s genuinely mind-boggling to me!

TikTok's algorithm is the worst thing about that app, because it's got a terrible tendency to send peoples' feeds into negativity spirals, and that in turn fosters a community of people who are either looking for rage-bait, are mad because they can't get away from the rage-bait, or try to bait other people to rage because that gets them engagement. There's no way off the merry-go-round once you get on it either, it's just miserable; it's why I eventually had to drop the app and now only watch the videos ported over to YouTube or Tumblr.

For my money, the reason Tim specifically gets blamed for this thing that is very obviously a problem with comics as an industry, not with his character specifically, comes at least in part from the drama involving Steph.

Because see, defenses of Steph tend to start from a seed of truth -- she was the subject of sexist writing in War Games, both in the fact that they chose to fridge her for Bruce's manpain and that artists during cuts away to the infamous torture sequence (which did not need to be as long as it was) drew her in a highly sexualized manner. But some people took that truth and ran with it, leaping onto this frustrating, stupid second-wave feminist idea that women are inherently innocent and can only ever be victims of The Patriarchy and therefor if anything goes wrong in the life of a woman, it MUST be the fault of A Man. And since it can be hard to pin-point which comic creators are responsible for these things, the brunt started to fall on the in-universe men.

So all the men around Steph became scapegoats, and Tim is the man she's both around the most and whom she has wronged the most. And then that attitude got amplified by her Batgirl run, which does this really manipulative bullshit where it only brings up Steph's past in terms that make her look like a helpless victim with no agency, without acknowledging or even mentioning any of the things she chose to do of her own free will. It especially went out of its way to demonize Tim and paint him as unreasonable, judgey and sexist, because the alternative would mean acknowledging that Steph had done some really fucked-up shit to him in the last days of Robin, and it was in fact perfectly reasonable for him to want her out of his life.

But see, that would mean that a good guy (gasp) didn't like her. And had a good reason not to like her. And trying to write a character who rises to become a true hero because they're fighting to make up for the shitty things they did in the past is so much harder than writing a innocent widdle victim who only has the best intentions and whose only problem is that the world is unfair to her specficially. White women with no self-awareness can project themselves on the latter, but not the former.

Amplify that by the faction of Damian stans who treat fictional rivalries as Deadly Serious Business and the fraction of Jason stans who hate him for existing as the result of Jason's death, both of whom will jump on and amplify any criticism no matter how baseless and uninformed just to score points against their perceived "enemy," and there you go. That's what I've observed unfolding since about 2007 anyway.

[ihopesocomic]

I feel like another instance of abusive actions that go unchallenged by the narrative in MP is the way Sunce treats Asra. I feel like it's sort of in this weird gray area, because gods doing terrible things and getting no real punishment for it or deeper narrative analysis is pretty common in religious mythology. Where I feel MP fucks up is by making the goddesses actual characters that play a deeper role beyond the religion, even down to the main lead interacting directly with them. It makes them more tangible as characters and thus Sunce's abusive actions towards her sister harder to write off. Especially with the plot hook that Nothing basically has to deceive Asra into interacting with her abusive sister again, the way Sunce was portrayed in the mythology just left a back taste in my mouth.

I don't think I even thought of that, that's a really good point. Sunce has basically been a villain throughout all of this, not just with how her being angry is the real explanation for why dry season is exponentially harder, but especially with how she treats her twin sister. Sunce killed Asra's lover and then blinded her with a lightning bolt (which, isn't that more of a Storm goddess thing? Ugh... put a pin in that...) and now she's.... just making everyones life miserable with no one to tell her not to.

Sure Cansu made Sunce repent for the lightning thing, but alot of good that did when she ended up getting angry at Asra later for "interfering with the lives of mortals" which, okay but they apparently handpick leaders of each kingdom, and Sunce's chosen one was directly involved with the homicide of the Storm Kingdom. And then later Sunce herself allegedly killed everyone in the jungle by setting it on fire. So what counts as interference here exactly.

And Cansu comes along and is telling Nothing to manipulate Asra into seeing people she for all intents and purposes cut off. Okay it's throwing off the balance of nature and no one can go to Lion Heaven, but whose fault is that lawl

I have a theory about Cansu actually being Sunce since Sunce is an alleged "trickster" and Nothing used the word "trick" unprompted, and it would explain the uncharacteristically cruel suggestion to abandon Feather in the desert (cruel for an alleged goddess of wisdom who's under the guise of a prideless lioness), so it has me side-eyeing the idea because it's stupid enough to probably have been true for the story. Which would work if it wasn't essentially an abuser using someone to gain access to their victim, which the show sees no problem with as they're doing the same thing with Powerstrike, Farleap, and Hover lol

Which further makes me wonder if Cansu was the one who blinded Asra, because lightning/storms more her thing. So if Rain/Cansu is more of a villain in disguise and is actually framing Sunce for everything, could she be behind dry season as much as Sunce since she controls the rain itself? Could it be revenge for her fallen kingdom? Like she blames Kyoga and Asra as well as Sunce and Lite, since they couldn't work shit out and it was her disciples who ended up getting killed for it?

I dunno, there's grounds that exist without the theory that puts both Sunce and Cansu in a bad light. Sunce for being awful and Cansu for thinking they're entitled to see Asra and not actually taking any sort of responsibility, and using the greater good as an excuse.

And then episode 8 happened and it's purpose essentially calls into question the legitimacy of all the stories Nothing has been told by Sharptongue, which naturally isn't brought up, but it basically leaves it open-ended enough to change everything entirely. It just makes it all the more frustrating to think about when undoing everything we're told in the show happens more often than it should.

But then I remember the last time I had a theory on this show and it ended up not even happening despite the set up LOL - Cat

[chaosmultiverse]

2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10, and 11 for salil on the childhood trauma asks

2. does your muse suffer with nightmares of their trauma?

yes, Salil often has a lot of nightmares ranging from ones based around the fear and self hate he was taught for monsters, to the events around his mother's death to when his father took him. Salil doesn't like talking about them, especially the ones about his lingering fears of other monsters or the ones about his father.

He fears that the nightmares make him weak, make him bad.

3. what triggers does your muse have from their childhood?

Here's a basic list:

Being made to feel weak/like a victim: this was something that was drilled into him to the point it went the opposite way. Salil cannot handle people implying that he needs to be protected and he finds the idea of relying on someone else for safety to be panic inducing. This is naturally a pretty big problem given that he is very much in need of help.

Most fairy tales: his mother read to him a lot when he was very young, these stories were a part of how he was taught to hate his monster part. Thry won't cause the same panic as other things but still can be enough to mentally drain him for a day or two.

Some potion smells: while first with his father he was made to drink some very dangerous things, he cannot handle smells of these potions or slimler without going into fight or flight.

Doors opening while he is laying down: this came from when he was taken, in the present he has to sleep either with the door open or in a room without a door as the sound can make him flat out fear for his life if he was already not doing well.

Some types of soup/stew: in the few weeks post his mother's death but before leaving he and Ravi were mostly living off food that had been frozen for later, mainly soups and stews made in big portions. Salil can't really have them or smell them without going mentally back to those weeks.

His horns being grabbed: it only happened once when he was a child but it was enough to mark it as a trigger as it made him feel so powerless and like he was being treated like a animal, not like a person. He will attempt to stop people from touching his horns due to this.

Falling great heights: let's just sum this up by saying that his father's idea of training Salil to fly resulted in several broken bones.

Probably more but that's what I have rn.

4. who in their life was most responsible for your muse’s trauma?

That is a harder question to answer than it would seem, sure one could point to his father and say it's all his fault but... Salil was already emotionally abused, already had self hate and unhealthy coping skills put into him, had his mother lived Salil would have grown into someone just as messed up, just displaying different traits.

I cannot in good faith pin how his mother treated him purely on his father, she had some choices, she was a adult and even if their relationship left her unable to rise Salil and Aaravi she could have given them to someone else to rise them.

But saying his mother feels unjustified when his father took him in already traumaized and then put Salil though inhumane training to become a weapon, Salil suffered more physically under his father's care.

Not to give a non answer but truly it comes down to the world Salil was boen into, esp in my own lore. Had he been born in a world where humans and monsters were at peace he would have been mostly okay, there would have been support for his mother, the fae court would have the guts to cast out a powerful but immoral member, neither of his parents would have gotten the same treatment that led to them abusing Salil, his mother would have been okay and his father would have no social power.

6. what was the worst / most traumatic moment in their childhood?

Probably the death of his mother since it destroyed any chance of their relationship healing, put Salil in a mental space to be taken and lastly it was really just the last thing in a long line of things that destroyed Salil's sense of innocence. He couldn't ever really feel safe again, after all the best slayer died, what luck did he have?

8. how does your muse react to being triggered? ( disassociates, becomes angry, etc. )

In the present day he reacts with anger and sometimes flat out violence, if someone is making him feel 'weak' he will make them wish they weren't born. This is something that he tries to work on since it's resulted in lashing out at fellow monsters which terrifies him but he lacks the tools to make progress.

9. what coping methods  ( healthy or unhealthy )  did your muse learn during their childhood?

There are two phases to this:

When Salil was trying to be a good son to his mother he took up a bit of a victim role, if he was weak, cried and relied on his mother for physcial safety but kept his emotional needs to himself then she would light up on any comparisons to his father. He'd cope by just burying everything.

But with his father he learned to put his feelings into anger since that could fuel a fight, he learned that to 'survive' he had to be strong so no more acting like a victim in the making, instead he would cope by becoming what sacred him, because then it won't hurt him, would it?

10. does your muse want their abuser(s) to face consequences? Or would they rather forget any of it happened? 

Honestly he wants neither, while he wants Ravi to not be a slayer like their mother or idolize her that's less about consequences and more so they can be close again without anything in the way. Salil doesn't really care about revenge for himself and he feels that what has happened to him shaped who he is, he'd fear he'd have no identity without his trauma (which isn't true but y'know it's a common fear for abuse victims.)

11. was there anyone who was a shining light for your muse? Ie. was there any adult who they could genuinely rely on / trust? 

No, there wasn't; while Salil at present would say his father was, that couldn't be farther from the truth. that's a part ofthe tragedy, a lot of this mess would have been avoided if there was even just a totally weak and powerless adult who was regardless a caring force in his life, because then after his mother's death he would've turned to them which would mean he'd either avoid going with his father or would at least resent his father for taking him them.

But there wasn't anyone, his mother died and wasn't safe to start with, his nana was off only coming home when it was too late and his father took advantage of this void in his life

[fanfic-cave]

Foul Play

Fem!Jedi Reader x Hunter

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hand to hand combat, kiss, angsty Jedi, (only proof read it once) nothing else I can really think of

Summary: Kinda fluffy. Hunter decides you need combat training in order to stay hidden from the empire. What happens when you decide you don’t want to play by the rules?

This is also my first fic to post publicly on tumblr, critique is welcome just don’t be super rude about it

—————————————

You groaned as you shielded your eyes from the bright sun peeking over the horizon. It was a nice morning on Idaflor, or it would have been, if you got sleep for another hour or two.

“Hunter is this really necessary?” You started.

He was dressed for combat, donning his clone uniform. He was facing away from you, staring at the same horizon you were just avoiding. “Don’t start with me again Y/N. You know you’re a target for the empire.”

“Yes, last I remembered we all are. I’m capable though, combat training is one of the last things I need-“

“Wrong.” Hunter interjected. “It’s the first thing you need to learn starting now.” He turned to face you as he said this, a hard expression set on his face.

“I trained as a Jedi.” You added, with a sour tone too. Your time as a Jedi was an unpleasant topic for you, and you preferred to avoid it when possible.

“Exactly,” Hunter started. You looked confused and he took the opportunity to continue. “You fight like a Jedi. And if you keep it up, other people will notice too and you’ll be easy to spot. You’ve got to learn to fight differently if you want to stay hidden.”

You considered his argument and tried to find a flaw in his logic. “But I use a blaster too…” you tried countering weakly.

“Let’s get started.” He ignored your gripe, and you decided there was no getting out of it. He was right, you needed to learn a new fighting style, and who better to learn from than the Sergeant of the most successful clone force in the GAR.

He’s not a Sergeant anymore. You reminded yourself. Just like you’re no longer a Jedi.

You started with basic form. That you picked up on quickly, easily mimicking his stance. Soon he started showing you simple techniques. You thought you already knew how to kick and punch, but you soon learned you hardly knew anything compared to a real soldier, a good one at that.

After another hour had past, you thought you had some of it down. He had pointed out to you that normal people weren’t that agile, or that they couldn’t jump that high when you made your normal moves to avoid attacks. And you learned the little things that you could get away with. Sweat clung to your shirt and you wiped some off of your brow. “Okay, I think I got it.”

“Ready to put it to the test?” He smirked. You raised your eyebrows questioningly as you saw him take a stance a few yards away. “You want me to spar you?”

“You’re not scared are you?” He teased, trying to goad you. You scoffed at him. “More surprised if anything.” You walked a few paces back and turned to face him, dropping into a stance you had been practicing.

You decided not to make the first move, and waited for him to come to you. He noticed this and sprung to action quickly. He ran this short distance toward you in a matter of seconds, and you prepared to take evasive action. You saw his right fist coming toward you. You deftly side stepped it. He threw a quick left uppercut that you blocked. You were caught off guard for a moment when you realized his foot was moving in, possibly to sweep your leg or land a kick. You dove to the side and rolled, attempting to catch his raised leg. You came up and realized you weren’t quick enough, and suddenly his foot hit you square in the chest. You felt the air in your lungs escape and your back hit the ground hard.

“You can’t avoid me forever, find an opening and counterattack.” You sucked in a breath and saw his hand extended towards you when you opened your eyes. You almost thought you saw an apologetic look on his face. You considered his hand, and an idea came to you.

Counterattack.

You took his hand, then in a flash pulled him in and landed a decent kick in his abdomen.

You came up fast and took his moment of confusion to get yourself up and ready, it was very possible he would be pissed that you pulled a move like that. He straightened up after a quick moment of doubling over from the kick you landed. “Oh so we’re playing dirty now?” He said, his tone was amused which surprised you.

“You said find an opening and counterattack. It’s not my fault you gave me one.” You shrugged after you spoke.

He laughed at that and said “We’ll see if you can find another one.” He came toward you, fists up, without warning, but you were ready.

The attacks came more quickly now. Fists coming, you blocking or dodging deftly. He was stronger, you gave him that, but you were faster, even if it was only a marginal difference. He brought his left fist up, and you saw your opening. You swung hard and managed to land two punches into his side, but it wasn’t enough to bring him down. You took a glance at his legs. You didn’t have enough weight on you to sweep his legs, but maybe if you put enough pressure behind his knee, you could bring him down. You dove down, preparing to circle around him and give your idea a try, but his hand caught you and brought you back up. After a quick moment of struggle he had both your wrists crossed across your chest, and pinned you to his chest, your back to him. You tried to struggle but it was no use.

“Not bad, but you broadcasted your move.” He got it out between breaths as you struggled against him. You could feel his breathing against your back, and tried not to focus too much on the thought of how close the two of you were right now, and how you could feel his broad chest against your back. “If you want to make a move, don’t stare and make it obvious.” You knew he was referring to you glancing to his legs. You swore under your breath, frustrated that your plan had been foiled.

I need to break his grip, you thought to yourself. You remember Hunter showing you how to break a grip similar to this. You took a moment to breathe in and relax. You brought your hands in towards each other, then you thrust down hard, using gravity to break his grip. He was prepared for this though. After you took an unbalanced step forward and turned, he tackled you round the midsection to the ground.

You felt yourself land on the ground, but it should’ve had a harder impact. You opened your eyes to searched for a reason why, and quickly saw Hunters face inches from yours. He had grabbed your arms just below your shoulders, holding you up to keep you from hitting the ground hard. He was straddling you to keep your legs from kicking or struggling. He let you come down and easily pinned your arms, and let his weight settle. There was no moving him.

“Well, how would you get out of this one?” He asked, clearly trying to test you. You huffed, and he became amused again as he saw your frustration in defeat.

Then you had a thought.

You almost looked, then remembered what Hunter said about broadcasting. You closed your eyes and gave yourself a moment to breath, pretending you were giving up. Hunter began to say “You were better that time,” and started to dive into giving critiques.

Then your eyes flung open, you lifted your head up, and your lips found his. Your eyes were closed again, so you couldn’t see his expression. Based on the shudder that travelled through his whole body, you knew you surprised him. His lips were surprising cool, and you could taste the salt of his sweat mingled with yours. His grip relaxed, and you felt one of his hands release your arm, traveling up to your face.

Before he could finish his movement you took your opportunity. You quickly bent your legs, and pushed up with your hips. You effectively unseated him, and you broke away from the kiss. You twisted forcefully and he fell off to your left, he hit the ground now flat on his back. You stood up and took a step back, allowing him his moment of shock.

His expression was confused, looking around and then looking back to you. You smiled and laughed, a real laugh, full and bright. “Alright I think we’re done here.”

“H-hold on-“ Hunter seemed to come back to life. “You can’t seriously do that in an actual battle.”

“I just did.” You turned your face over your shoulder to address him as you spoke since you already started walking away, looking forward to using the fresher. Echo exited from the doors of the Havoc Marauder, looking confused at the two of you.

“What happened? Aren’t you two supposed to be doing combat training?”

“I just kicked Hunters ass.” You spoke without stopping and walked past him.

[nsfsprince]

An a/b/o idea thats taken over the brain that I wish to write:

Intruxietlogical A/B/O au that's set in a manor or smth?

Theres Alpha!Logan(cismale), head of the manor and a very rich yet young and respectable individual of the city. Hes like 6'4 and handsome as hell, and secretly knows it(due to Remus's persistent courting) but sees no point in personally flaunting it, letting Remus take the lead in that.

Then theres his eccentric Omega spouse, Remus(nonbinary leaning with he/him pronouns), the (in)famous artist of the city. Hes unusually tall for an Omega at 5'10, crude and unworried about fitting the 'normal' societal omega expectation despite also being born to a rich family. He courted Logan, persistantly, as he loved the fact that Logan treated him with the same respect as he would anyone else and never judged Remus for who he was, and the more Logan accepted the courting the more they fell in love before marrying and bonding at like. 23-25?

Well, Virgil is a 5'1 omega(transman with he/him pronouns), age 24. Hes a feisty little thing thats been surviving the streets for too long, he's parentless and, his high anxiety keeps him safer than most omegas on their own but no ones perfect- he ends up almost getting abducted by a sketchy Alpha when a Beta named Patton storms in and saves him.

That's how Patton, Logan's brother, takes him in to treat the sprained wrist he got from the encounter, and for Remus to set eyes on Virgil and immediately decide he wants to keep and court him, too.

I could ramble alot about the months it takes for remus to flirt and fluster and break Virgil out of his shy terrified shell(because hes gone from interacting with fellow street raccoons to very weathy and very Pretty nobility and its. A Lot.

I could ramble about the way both Remus and Logan coax Virgil into staying in their home for more and more ludicrously simple reasons, just to keep courting him, and how Virgil catches on, and flusteredly does nothing to stop it bc he's slowly falling in love too

But what I Really wanna ramble about, is their bedroom dynamics.

Content warning for under the cut: a/b/o dynamics, talk/descriptions of knotting, polyamourus relationships, kinks. Lots of kinks: oralfixation, dom/sub/switch dynamics, praise kink, overstim(lots of overstim), talk of double penatration, p in v sex, ect. Let me know if i missed anything!

MINORS DNI or you will be fully blocked from this blog and my main one.

Logan is a soft but firm dom, always in control and ready to take control. He has a bit of an oral fixation and loves sucking off his loves as often as he can, happy to sate his loves while getting them to soak themselves in fresh slick. He's easily comanding when needed but also enjoys that Remus is more than willing to take control on occasion(see: regularly). He just really really likes taking care of his loves however he can, and aftercare is super important especially after some of their more intense scenes

Remus is a bossy switch, who Loves riding Logan's cock till hes stuck on his knot, or getting fucked up against a wall till his mind turns to jelly. Really likes a bit of primal play, loves riling Logan up with praising how good Logan could breed him(even tho theyre all on birth control so it really is just for the scenes) if he just pins him down and takes. On the flip side, Re also loves pinning Virgil down and driving him crazy, too.

Virgil is a near complete submissive, he's eagar to give and take as ordered and melts at any praise given. Starting out he'd been touch straved beyond belief(which has since been remedied thoroughly) and thus ended up developing a habit of dropping into subspace the moment Logan and/or Remus cradle his neck with both hands. Hes a very affectionate sub who puts so much of his trust and control into Logan and Remus's hands, and both cherish it as Virgil literally never lets his guard down around anyone else.

So, my favorite thing about their dynamic is that Remus still has a decent sized cock despite being an omega, like is actually rather big for Virgil to take, the draw back is just that Remus cant, at least naturally, Knot Virgil like Logan can. (However, its like one of Remus's biggest fantasies to Knot Virgil, and Virgil is totally in the same boat and would be Very on board with it)

This lack of natural knot doesnt stop Remus of course, infact its encouraging because he has a nearly non-existant refractory period so, literally imagine:

Virgil on his back, Virgil's head and shoulders are cradled lovingly in Logan's lap as the alpha occassionally trades kisses with both of his gorgeous omegas. Virgil's legs spread and cunt gently held nice and open by Logan's gentle but firm hands as Remus repeatedly sinks his cock nice and deep into Virgil. Slick soaks Virge and Remus's thighs, his cunt, and Remus's cock.

Every thrust has Virgil whimpering and his legs twitching with the relentless feeling of the head of Remus's cock just barley rutting against his cervix on every other pass. Just the hot way Remus has Virgil pinned into a mating press and obviously working hard to make that position live up to its name, babbling at how good Virgil feels taking his cock like a good little omega, at how easy it is to breed Virgil over and over and over again.

Then Logan enacts this little idea hes been holding onto the moment Remus starts to get close(hes trained Remus well, having helped him train to stall his orgasms for longer and longer because Remus LOVES overstimmulation). He has Remus slow down for just a moment, causing both omegas to whine, before coating two fingers in plenty of slick and slowly pressing them in alongside Remus's cock.

Virgil is slowly losing his mind(as they find out in later sessions that he absolutely has a size kink, and would happily take both their cocks at once any time hes given the chance) at the width, his eyes rolling. Then Remus is told to start thrusting again until he comes, and to ignore Logan's two fingers outside of being careful.

Virgil and Remus are so keyed up that it only takes another minute or so for Remus to start cumming, following Logan's order of pressing all the way inside as deep as he can get, at which point is Logan's cue to start curling his fingers firmly deep inside of Virgils walls.

Immediately, Virgil starts whimpering loudly as he cums, his body reacting the way it would if he were being knotted by an alpha, cunt clenching tight and sucking Remus's cock deeper as his eyes squeeze closed and his jaw fall lax, overwhelmed as his body draws out his orgasm for as long as hes knotted.

Remus is put in a mind-melting world of pleasurable overstimmulation as hes just climaxed and Virgils cunt is milking it for all hes got and he cant even move or pull out now because hes 'locked' inside. His hips and legs are trembling and he's moaning loudly because it's so hot that hes basically getting to Knot Virgil and it feels so good.

Virgil's cunt won't let him go and wont stop pulsing around the head his oversensitive cock and he really cant be faulted for the way he loses control and just keeps orgasming, his lack of refractory period as a keyed up omega just letting him squirt more and more cum and slick deep into the omega under him.

Logan's gentle and soothing, cooing reassurances to his two loves as he helps them lose their minds & fulfil their fantasies. He even uses his free hand to stroke Virgils little cock slowly, drawing out shaking whines from both of them as it makes Virgil clench harder in intervals. Remus ends up hunched over Virgil, his face tucked into his fellow omega's neck to muffle his overstimulated whimpers.

Logan draws it out for a minute or two, just until pleasured and overwhelmed tears picks at their eyes and their soft begging whimpers and mewls fill the room before slowly releasing the hold, letting the string of tension snap and watching them unravel and relax, finishing their peaks.

Remus cant help the way he struggles to pull out, so oversensitive that his hips keep hitching back in place with the way Virgils body tries to keep him there, needing Logan to pull their hips apart to fully end the scene.

Logan strokes and comforts both exhausted omegas, now fully in his element, cooing soft reassurances to both, getting up to start a bath and carefully guiding them both in and cleaning them up. The sheets are changed and both are put in soft clothing and given juice and cuddles.

Remus would probably make a comment on asking drowsily just how Logan deals with being knotted to him for in upwards of 30 minutes if it feels like /That/ the whole time. Logan would probably just smile sweetly and press a sweet kiss to his lips and say "with experience of course, perhaps we can work on that too, if the both of you would be so inclined?"

Virgil shutters and whines, too tired to get worked up again, Remus in a similar boat but nodding drowsily anyway. Remus probably wakes up sore and gets worked up all over again at the memory of why his cock of all things is sore and sensetive.

Perhaps they do work on it, perhaps Remus is trained to a take it little longer each time, no where near half an hour for the longest time, but he gets pretty close and much better at holding from losing his mind.

Maybe then they explore what it feels like for Remus to be stuck on Logan's knot, while Virgil is stuck on Remus's 'knot' with the help of a toy. Maybe then they also explore working Virgil up to take both of their cocks, and see what happens what Logan's fingers curl just right to trigger that knotted feeling to have Virgil lose his goddamn mind impaled on both their cocks as they slowly thrust in and out despite his body thinking he's already been knotted and reacting as such.

Maybe they even explore working Virgil's other hole open, just enough to take Logan's knot, and give Remus free reign to fuck Virgil's soaking trembling cunt until they can coax Virgil's cunt into taking Remus's 'knot' as well

Idk man. Just. This whole dynamic has so many hot possibilities. 💕💕💕

[sparetimeimagines]

Habits

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

tags; exlovers, hate sex, dwi, smut, degrading, fluff, ok they fuck

Part 2

Masterlist

It’s becoming a habit.

You shoot your shot at the most basic ass man you can find. A man at the club who found your Instagram on the club’s tag. You figure, hell, he’s boring.

He can’t possibly be the one who’s going to screw you over at the end of the night.

He can’t possibly be the one who’s going to later get your Snapchat and spend those hours of getting to know you, just to get your nudes and ghost you after you tell him you’re not down to fuck.

Of course not.

He’s going to be the shame you in front of his friends when he asks to chill and you stupidly agree.

He’s going to call you a whore because you sent him the pictures he asked for not like he has four other girls in his DMs.

Because it’s your fault he’s a shitty person.

Because it’s your fault you fell for his tricks.

“Can I come over?” Your voice cracks as you wipe a tear, acting like you totally weren’t crying over some jerk.

“It’s 2AM.”

“That never stopped you before.”

The line is silent, and you could have sworn he hung up.

“Tsuki... please.” You beg, knowing the sound of your voice being manipulated that way makes him hard.

He sighs and you know he’s going to let you have your way.

“How long?” He clears his throat and you stumble to your car.

“One point five.” Your vision his hazy, the alcohol having less of a toll on your vision than your emotional state. “I’ll be there before sunrise.”

“You better not be driving.” He growls.

“Fuck you, Tsukki, you’re not the boss of me.” You turn the keys in the ignition. “I’m not drunk.”

“Hmmph.” You know he’s rolling his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

The smirk on his lips is contagious, infecting yours that are smeared with the dark lipstick.

“Let me know when you’re close.”

“Always.”

There was nothing new about you driving to the dorms in the middle of the night. College life was something you embraced when you never fully cut the ties to your doting ex boyfriend who is always down to fuck.

He lived in an apartment off campus, not being able to live under the RA’s rules, but everyone neighboring was also enrolled in the school.

Early morning or late night, whatever you want to call it, you show up. His apartment, the one with the glowing window, indicates he’s awake.

You slam the door shut harder than you anticipate, stomping up the stairs to his apartment.

“2C.” You try the door knob but it’s locked. “Tsukishima. Open up!” You bang on the door and he quickly opens. He nearly rips your limb from your body in order to get you inside his home.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” He has one hand around your throat and the other grasping your arm, pinning you to the wall.

You smirk at the thought of him pinning you against the wall and begin biting your lower lip.

“Split me apart, Tsuki. I’m begging you.”

He rolls his eyes, gripping your neck tighter.

“What is wrong with you, Stupid Girl? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I don’t care what time it is. I want you to tear me apart.” Your dazed eyes roll back to his honey colored one with a dare he’s not willing to turn down.

His large fingers tear at the thin fabric of your dress and tugs it down your arm.

“You always wear the sluttiest things.” He stares at you, your body slowly being exposed with each piece he tears off. “You reek. Did they reject you again?” He leans into your neck, teeth sinking into the arch of your bones. “Tell me. What’s his name?” He bites into your skin as you attempt to reply, your gasp ruining you. “Hm? Who did you try to replace me with this time?” His hot breath coats the lobe of your ear, his fingers gripping the messy strands of your hair to the opposite side exposing you completely.

The other hand you were concerned with reappears between your legs, fingers dipping against the damp fabric clinging to your heat.

“Hmm doesn’t matter. Because he didn’t want you. Did he not?”

You ignore his question, focusing on the two fingers that tease you from below, light touches caressing you until you’re suffering with that welcoming ache.

You feel yourself tighten, the kegel trying to hold in the wetness between your folds.

“Mmm what is it? You’re so tense.” He stops petting you. “He didn’t want you, did he?”

He steps back, the hand that had you mesmerized leaves your heat throbbing -begging for attention- and relocates to your bottom lip.

“Answer me.” He demands, the finger dragging your taste against your plump lip.

“No.”

“No what?”

“No he didn-” Tsukishima cuts you off with his finger burrowing back through your lips and inside your mouth.

“I’ve heard enough.” He smirks, him adding another finger to your mouth. “You’ve always talked too much anyway.” His eyes roll, his head shaking with a devilish smirk across his face.

No glasses, no shirt, messy hair, this is the Tsuki no one else knew. This is the Tsuki you knew who would fuck you aggressively until sunrise.

He presses himself against your lower half, his hard cock rubbing against your naked body through his tight briefs.

He scoffs, taking the fingers from your mouth, so wet glistening with your saliva and runs it across the only part still clothed between your legs.

“What’s going to stop me fucking you right now? No one knows where you are. I could fuck you...” He returns to your neck with open mouth kisses sucking on your skin. “For hours. Days if I wanted to. No one is going to stop me from fucking your tight, slutty cunt.”

His fingers graze the fabric once more, pushing it to the side.

His eyes meet yours, his fingers returning to his mouth for wetness, then back to your sensitive, sobbing hole.

His finger to slowly stretch into your body, his eyes never leaving you. He watches your moan, how your lips part, your eyes rolling, your chest rises as he has one hundred percent control of your body.

“Mmm you like that. Look how tight she clings to me.” His free hand caresses your neck, slowly moving to your breast. Goosebumps follow his touch, the warmth of his fingers resting on the bar between your nipple. “I think she missed me.”

He slides his fingers upward, pumping your famished hole for your juice.

“You dirty whore.” He smirks feeling you drip to his knuckle.

Tsuki brings his lips to your ring, lips tongue flicking against your silver barbell.

“I remember when you got these done. Prancing around like some fucking slut with your tits out.” He brings it in with his mouth, sucking the bar for your new found sensitive tips. “Mmm so sexy.” He looks up to you, panting with your head thrown back. “My girl is enjoying herself.” He comes back up, still twisting your ring as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His thumb caresses your clit briefly for the sake of reaction.

Your body jolts and he smirks, bringing you into him.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Baby Girl?” He whispers and you nod unable to catch your breath.

He pulls out from you, his fingers soggy from your wetness.

“Then clean it.” He holds his fingers to your mouth, watching you lick from his knuckle to the tip. “You’re so pretty when you’re wet.” He moans watching you lick his fingers, he grabbing his cock through his tight briefs, it filling perfectly where it should.

Hard, he releases it to his hands, reflexing in your direction.

“If you want me to fuck you, show me how bad you want it.”

He pumps his cock a few times before you smack his hands away, pinning them in between your fingers.

“Shut the fuck up, Tsuki. You’re so annoying.” You scoff taking his shaft between your free hand and your tongue. He moans letting his head roll back, he looking at the ceiling.

Up and down you run your lips along him, his hands tangling with your hair.

“Stop playing with it.” He warns grabbing your face by the jaw. “Do it right.”

It was your time it smirk, taking him whole, him bucking his hips.

You gag against him making Tsuki jolt his cock against your throat again.

“Yes Baby, gag on me. Fuck you feel so good.” He pulls your hair back out from your face.

You watch him, doe eyes watching him relax with pleasure.

“Fuck Baby.” He pulls out from your mouth. “You’re going to waste me like that.” He pulls you to your feet. “Get your ass on my bed.” He points to his bedroom, watching you obediently oblige, his palm smacking your ass on the way in.

“Ow, fuck Tsuki. That hurt!” You rub your enflamed cheek and he meets you in the edge.

“Shut the fuck up.” He smirks. “All fours. Now.”

“Fine fine. Shut up.” You position yourself ready for him when he pushes you forward, your stomach against the sheet.

“You think you’re just gonna get whatever you want.” His hand collides with your cheek again. “Hell no. Shut your bratty mouth and take my cock like a good girl.”

He inserts a finger into your swollen hole, taking it out to his lips. “Fuck Baby.” He grips your hips, bending over to line up. He presses his lips against your cheek then the other, letting his tongue reappear at your clit, letting your body buckle with your moan.

“Mmm just how I remember you.” He leaves a long strip to your entrance, with his index fucking your hole. “You fucking slut. I own you.” He slurps. “I’m going to tear you up.”

He bites your ass, realigning his cock with your core.

Painfully slow, he lets himself into you, bottoming his cock into your body. You both groan as he stays completely still.

“Fuck Tsukki. Move.” You gasp trying to adjust your hips however he has you pinned. “Fuck, you’re big. Move.” You’re breathless as he begins to adjust himself along your tight walls.

“Being nice now isn’t going to make me go easy on your tight pussy.” He slides out, barely leaving the tip in. “Beg for me. Tell me how badly you want me to use you.” He leans forward, his breath on your skin. “Tell me. Who’s gonna touch you like me?”

“N-no one.”

“Hmm? Tell me, Y/n, tell me who’s gonna fuck you like me?”

“No one Tsu- fuck.” He smashes his hips into yours, thrusting harder than he had ever before.

“That’s right. You slut.” He’s thrusting, both hands on your hips keeping him, steady. “You crave me. No one can satisfy you like me.” He bottoms into you, catching your breath with his cock.

“Too deep.” He smirks at your complaint.

“No those boys can’t fill your tight cunt like I can.”

“This is the- the last time Tsuki.”

“You damn liar. You depend on me. You need me.”

He shoves your head into the pillow muffling your moans while he pounds into you. His hand grazes across your ass restlessly, until he pulls out flipping you. His hands pin you down against the bed, his forehead resting against yours.

“I want to watch you cum on my cock.” He grunts, reinserting himself. “You’re so damn gorgeous, you maniac.”

You press your lips against his, your legs pulling him in deep. “Fuck you, Tsuki.”

He smirks into your lips, feeling your walls grip around his cock. Your moans grow louder and he’s pounding harder than ever, wanting you to finish on him.

“Who’s making you cum?” He pants, close himself.

“Fuck. Tsukishima.” You grip the back of his head, feeling yourself release on him, he cumming short after with the throbs of his cock twitching inside of you. His body, wet and covered in sweat, collapses on top of you his breathing matching yours as he lessens in size.

“Fuck.” He says pulling out. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You roll over to your side, feeling him sit up in the bed against the wall.

Moments pass and things begin to calm down, the post nut clarity. The downfall.

“It doesn’t get better than this, does it Tsuki?” Your sad reality hits you as you adjust yourself with a hand under his pillow, still not facing the blond but the wall instead. His covers hide your sweat glazed body and insecurities.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an endless cycle. I get my heart broken and come crying back to my ex to fuck me because at least I know he’s not going to break me again because he’s already done that.”

You stare at the wall, feeling him shift beside you.

Then you feel his hand graze your hips, resting on the highest point.

“Well. Is that what you want? Do you want the endless cycle of me fucking you until you hate yourself?”

“No. Yes? I don’t know.”

“Would you rather just want to fuck me?”

“Like friends with benefits?” You turn on your side catching him rolling his eyes.

“We will never be friends.” He bluntly says searching for his glasses. You nod and he sighs. “It’s obvious you still have feelings for me, Y/n.”

You rest on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Whatever, Tsuki.”

“Don’t deny it. You wouldn’t keep coming back to me unless you wanted something.”

“I wanted to get laid.”

“And you’re a terrible liar.” He runs hand through his drenched curls.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No normal person would drive two hours in the middle of the night to fuck someone, Y/n. It’s not worth it.”

You sit up grabbing the sheet to cover yourself.

“I’m not here for you to shove your opinions at me, Tsuki.”

“You’re right, Y/n.” He grabs your hand pulling you into him. “You’re here because you still have feelings. You’re here because you can’t accept that you’re not over our relationship. You’re here because you keep throwing yourself at random losers to substitute the feelings you have for me because you can’t admit it to yourself that you never wanted our relationship to end.”

He calls you out leaving you stunned. Not one word can come to your lips because deep down, you know he’s right.

Deep down, you keep going back to Tsuki because you know he won’t let you down. You know, that deep deep down in your chest, the beating organ is still beating for Tsuki but like him, you’re too stubborn to admit it.

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“Say what, Tsukishima?”

“Say that you miss me. Say that you still want me.” His lips brush against yours, his whisper barely audible. Those hands he cuffed around your wrists flip you on your back and he’s hovering over you. “Say you still want me. Say that us breaking up was a mistake and say you still want me. Just admit it.”

“Tsu-“ before you could say another word, his lips silence you, the pressure of his naked body atop of yours, but inches away from joining with each other. “I’m a terrible liar.”

“Then tell me the truth.” He whispers his lips closing in on yours.

“I love you, Kei.”

[blindbeta]

Why “It Was Just a Question” and “It Was Just a Joke” Are Not Defenses For Ableism And Why Your Reaction Is the Most Important Thing

When someone is disabled, neurodiverse, etc people can sometimes ask really ignorant, invasive, or invalidating questions that take emotional labor to answer. And sometimes there is a lot of pressure to answer. This is even worse if it is a joke instead, and the options are to ignore it or say something and risk being yelled at because “it was just a joke, gosh.” Confronting people and setting boundaries gets you called over-sensitive, over-reacting, childish, etc.

I’ll make this clear: it isn’t about your questions or jokes - it is about the assumptions you made when you opened your mouth and the reaction you had when you were corrected.

Let’s Talk About Questions.

I first want to say, I started this blog because I wanted to. You are more free to ask me questions than random blind people on the street. The questions I receive here are also good, researched questions where I can tell someone has read my blog or some articles. I’m not posting to give my followers or anyone else anxiety. The whole point is that these people don’t have an interest in learning, doing any of their own work, or challenging their false beliefs. They want me to endure them and confirm them. I haven’t had to do that here and if I did, it would be easier than in real life because I can choose not to answer a question by deleting it. My followers are also already respectful of and educated on blind people, and so if I have a response that is less than perfectly polite, readers will know why. That is not true outside of this blog.

Now let’s talk about questions and why they can be used in a bad way. What makes a question bad? What is the difference between a genuine and ignorant question? What if you don’t have time to research?

A Bad question here is one that is based on a usually false assumption that prompts a desired answer. An example would be, “Are you really sad that you can’t read?” or “Why would a blind person need a phone when they can’t use it?”

I see a lot of these on tumblr. For example, one blog I followed received an ask that basically said blind people couldn’t be in the orchestra because such and such limitation. These questions have, at best, an obvious assumption along with, at times, a confrontational tone. This person does not want education. They want to defend their belief. A better way to truly ask such a question would be something such as, “I read that people in orchestras and choir have to sight read music. How do blind people navigate this?” No assumption is made about a blind person’s ability. The question is asked in an open manner. The asker has done some research.

Now, in real life, people don’t always preface it with how much research they have done. And let’s be real, it usually isn’t much. But someone asking, “Do you prefer Braille or do you use a computer to read?” shows at least some knowledge. They aren’t trying to put me into a box or use me for confirmation bias. It isn’t so much about getting the perfect wording. It’s about not expecting the blind person to confirm something for you, argue with you, or educate you without you putting in any effort. Even “I was wondering how you do assignments,” is open and allows for my response. If you aren’t able to research in the moment, make your question open or be transparent. To be honest, I feel better about people not doing research in person than online, because being online usually shows you have some time and tools to research. If resources are not available to you and you don’t have the internet for long periods of time, preface your question with that and acknowledge that the person does not have to respond if your question is offensive. Again,it isn’t about getting it 100% right, but truly trying and prioritizing the comfort of the person you are asking.

When I confront people for asking a question with an assumption, I often receive an angry response. The fault is placed on me for not educating people, for not being cooperative, for being mean. This happens whether I answer or not. If I try to explain to someone assuming I can’t read that I, in fact, can read or use a phone or whatever, this is seen as rude or not cooperative. Even confrontational. This person comes away from the conversation now believing blind people are rude and angry. Usually they assume the blind person is jealous of them for being able to see. Which, in that instance, would not be true.

Making assumptions that a person cannot possibly do something because of their disability, especially when you are ignoring what that person says, is ableist. Pointing this out is not attacking you or even, necessarily, judging you. They are not calling you any other name, no matter what else you claim it means to you. (I once had someone claim that when I said the word ableism or ableist she heard the word bitch.)

Let’s Talk About Jokes.

This one is much harder to navigate, especially because blind people often make jokes themselves. However, I want to continue to consider the underlying assumption and judgement some jokes can contain. The joke is usually bad when it contains an ignorant assumption and falls apart when that assumption is corrected.

One example is that picture that often goes around with a person holding a white cane is using a phone. The joke asks what’s wrong with the picture. The problem is not that it’s a joke, as most people assume. The problem is the assumption underneath this particular example, which, by the way, can result in blind people being harassed and even hurt. Read my post here.

But it isn’t even the joke that is the problem. The reaction is. Instead of being accused to attacking someone for an innocent question, someone who points out the problem with a joke or even that it was hurtful, gets someone accused of not having a sense of humor or being mean. I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that in real life, not outside of this blog. It is, honestly, too difficult and too uncomfortable.

The reaction people sometimes have is one of defense. They aren’t ableist, it was just a joke, can’t you take a joke?, why are you so serious?, you are ruining the joke, etc. People also assume disabled people can’t tell when someone has made a mistake and when they are genuinely asking a question or trying to call attention to something by making a joke. Disabled people are not trying to take all jokes away. They just want to point out when something is harmful. Doubling down about how that person can’t take a joke is a big problem.

Again, it isn’t that someone made a joke about disabled people. It’s the assumptions inside the joke itself that are harmful. For example, jokes about blind people going to cinemas don’t land because blind people do watch movies. The joke falls apart when you remove the assumption - and not knowing that it was an assumption is part of the problem in the first place.

What Now?

Again, this post was never about not asking questions or not making jokes. It is about ways they can go wrong and how people can make it worse by getting defensive instead of being open to learning and moving on. Everyone makes assumptions or repeats jokes sometimes, and whether or not it becomes an argument is about being open to learning.

Disabled people aren’t out there looking for people to confront. Most of the time, they just want to go about their day or have a nice time with friends. If someone corrects you, no matter the setting, treat it as an opportunity for your growth and to make others feel more comfortable. Listen, apologize, acknowledge your mistake, and change your behavior.

My aim here is not to complain or to make people feel bad or even worry excessively. My goal was simply to share my thoughts on why these things can be a problem and offer suggestions on how to avoid them.

I hope this helps.

-BlindBeta

Note: I provide sensitivity reading for blind characters. See my Pinned Post for information.

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

I was supposed to write this yesterday but I got food poisoning 🥰🥰 so that was fun. Anyways here it is

/tw: non-con/

"It's all you"

Sam could feel deans heart beat through the blade. The blade that was currently pushing into deans neck, not a position you'd ever hope you'd ever have to be in, but yet, here they were. Dean staring Sam down with a terrifying smirk on his face, Sam's hand shaking as he struggles to keep a firm grip on the blade, his sweaty palm making it seem useless. It was pushed up against deans main artery, one good slice and he'd be done. He could hear deans blood pumping through his neck, pulsing against the cold metal. Sam's brain was screaming at him to do it already, make the cut, but could the demon blade even hurt dean? Was that just bravado in deans eyes or did he actually not care because he knew that this knife couldn't hurt him?

If he had more time he'd go over his options. It's not like there were many though. He doesn't want to hurt his brother, doesn't want to draw any blood. He could try to knock him out, but his left arm isn't that strong. If he had more time he would go over all his mistakes, put the blame on himself, try and figure out where he went wrong and fix it for next time, but staring into deans black eyes, he knew there wouldn't be a next time.

One of them would have to make a decision soon, and turns out, Dean did. He always did call the shots in this relationship, except Sam wasn't expecting this one. Dean threw his whole body against sam, both of them landing to the floor with a bang and a few grunts from Sam as the air was forced out of his lungs. Sam's head smacked against the hard ground, and Dean took that moment of weakness to pin Sam's hands above his head, but not before throwing the blade across the hallway, way too far for Sam to reach.

Dean was basically straddling him. He had a leg on either side of Sam's body and was making himself pretty comfortable in Sam's lap. His big brother was heavy on him, it was getting harder to breathe. He tried to yank his arms free but deans hold was just too strong, he tried to buck up but it was no use, Dean was holding him firmly down. Sam was on the verge of crying. This was how he was gonna die, by the hands of his own big brother. The same guy who raised him, fed him, hell, even sold his soul for him. Now he was gonna kill him. Sam tried to look away, he really did, but he wanted Deans eyes to be the last thing he would see. The pitch black covering the green was his fault. He failed his brother. He let him get stabbed. It was his fault, this death is what he deserves.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy" dean purred out. He used one hand to brush Sam's hair out of his face, making it fan out around his head like some sort of crown. He bent down and trailed his nose across Sam's exposed neck. It made Sam flinch but he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to, he was frozen in fear. "You smell so good." Dean whispered against Sam's skin before licking down his jaw. And that was, certainly, unexpected. Deans tounge was warm and wet on Sam's skin, but it sent shivers down his spine like he had just jumped into the Antarctic ocean. And honestly? Sam would be rather doing that right now, because the way Dean was looking down at him, well to say the least, it was absolutely terrifying.

He'd seen Dean hunt, he knows what he's like. Like predator on prey. It's scary to watch, but at least then he was the good guy going after bad. At least then Sam knew that kind of wrath would never be directed towards him. But that was then, and this is now. And right now Sam felt like a small kitten being pinned down by a wolf. Even though Deans eyes were as black as the sky, you could see the hunger and the want in them. And he knew that Dean could smell the fear coming off of him in waves, which was making this all worse.

"You remember that bitch, Ruby?" Deans hand trailed down Sam's injured arm, rubbing at his shoulder softly. "How you ran off with her, while I was in hell for you?" He gripped Sam's upper arm and yanked down, hard, kinda like how Cole did. Sam tried his best to keep his scream of pain in, but demon strength is much worse than what he experienced with Cole. But Dean continued to talk over his cries of pain. "I went to hell for you, Sammy." Pull, scream. "And that's how you repay me?" Another yank, another scream. Just as Sam thought he was about to pass out from the pain, Dean pulled his hand away.

"Dean, I'm sorry-" Sam tried, but after a swift and hard punch to the jaw from Dean, Sam decided it was best to just keep his mouth shut, even if his blood was pooling up in it now. "Oh shut the fuck up. I know you're not sorry, but that's okay." A smile from Dean, it seemed just like how Dean would smile after cracking a stupid joke and getting a bitch face from Sam for it, but it also seemed so off, so wrong. It was too cold, too out of place on Deans face. "I'll make you sorry." Sam was sure Dean could hear, and feel his heart rate speeding up.

"See Sammy, you whored yourself out to her, became her little bitch, did whatever she wanted just so you could get some of her blood." Sam tried to shake his head, to deny the accusation, but he knew they were true. And he couldn't move his head anyway, not with the way Deans hand was gripping his jaw so tightly. "Well that's just not fair to me, since I bought your soul, all those years ago." Dean tightened his grip, tears streamed down Sam's face. "So it's only fair if I make you my bitch." Now Sam was really close to hyperventilating. What was that supposed to mean? What did Dean want from him? Was there any human left in him, could Sam even try to talk to him, get through to him?

Deans eyes searched Sam's body, looking up and down, taking everything in. The amount of weight he had lost, how he wasn't as strong as he should be, the dark shadows under his eyes, his stringy dirty hair. Sam was in this state because of Dean, and Dean wouldn't deny that he felt a little bit of pride from that, he didn't even try to hide it. Sam was so messed up because of him. It was perfect.

Deans right hand was holding Sam's hands above his head, and he couldn't risk letting go. Sam might be weaker now, but that boy is fast. He needed to cut into his hand or arm or wrist, something. He needed to draw blood, but he couldn't do that one handed. Luckily, he came up with a great idea. Sam might hate it now, but he will be very appreciative later on. Probably.

Deans jaw clenched, hard. Sam tilted his head as best as his could to show his confusion. What was he doing? He only got it once he heard a wince of pain from Dean and got a look into his mouth. He had bit down on his tounge, his mouth pooling up with blood, fast. The metallic smell flooding the room so quickly, Sam felt dizzy. The scent of the blood was so damn strong, he couldn't help the way he stomach begged for it.

Truth be told, he had never gotten over his addiction. He just got better at hiding it. Every demon hunt was hard. Every time they cut into a black eyed bitch he had to restrain himself. Over the years it got easier and easier to hide, but god, the way the scent of Deans blood just filled his nostrils and made him drool for it so quickly, it was quite embarrassing. He could tell just how powerful Deans blood was. His body craved it, but his brain, his brain was warning him, flooding his mind with memories of pain and detox. It was enough to get Sam to slam his mouth shut, well, as best as he could with the way dean was holding it open. Dean frowned at him, blood staining his lips.

Dean lowered himself. Faces close, noses touching. The smell was even worse now, it was overcompensating. The want to taste it, to have the warm liquid drip down his throat was so painful, was so hard to push to the back of his mind, ignore it, don't give it. But damnit he couldn't even close his mouth, what hope was any of it?

Dean opened his mouth, and the first few drops dripped out, straight into Sam's mouth. And god, did it feel amazing. He'd never admit it, but the way he moaned didn't really hide it. It tasted amazing. Better than ruby's. He could feel the power as soon as it touched his tounge, it felt like fireworks were going off inside him. The way it travelled down his tounge into his throat was so heavenly. Sam forgot how breathtaking this whole experience was. But it was short lived. Once he came back to and left the high, he opened his eyes to find Dean grinning down at him, still so incredibly close. Sam wanted to cry. All those years of learning self control, of trying to contain himself, he did it all for Dean, and now it was Dean that grabbed him by the neck and threw him back into his addiction.

Before Sam could even say anything, Dean smashed their lips together. At first Sam didn't do anything, didn't gasp, didn't cry, didn't scream. He was frozen in pure shock. The dried up blood on Deans lips were now staining his lips. Dean was shoving his tounge, his bleeding tounge into Sam's mouth. Sam laid there in shock and horror as Deans tounge was filling up Sam's mouth with blood. He was dragging it around all in Sam's mouth, across his teeth, his tounge, Dean was basically marking his territory.

Dean had let go of Sam's jaw, but Sam didn't close his mouth, couldn't. Deans blood was dripping down his throat. He could feel it. He could feel it going all the way down, and he could feel his addiction rising to the surface again. His mind was screaming at him, trying to get him to fight, to pull away, anything. But Sam knew it was a losing battle. He was already hooked again, he could feel it. There was no point in fighting it.

Something inside of him snapped, he grabbed the sides of Deans head and started sucking on his tounge, biting down on it, trying to get as much blood from Dean as possible. He thought Dean would lash out, hit him, kill him. but he didn't. He just hummed his approval and allowed Sam to keep drinking from him. He wrapped his arms around Sam's torso and lifted him up, seating him in Deans lap now. It's not like Sam noticed, or even cared about what Dean was doing. There was only one thought in his head right now, and his whole body was overcome by want and need, greed and lust.

Dean tangled his fingers in Sam's hair as his little brother continued to drink from him, suck on his tounge. Dean was smiling. They were truly fucked up, but at least they were together. They've given so much to the world, sacrificed so much for undeserving people, why can't they have something for themselves for once? They deserve it. They deserve this.

[uwuwriting]

Todoroki, Shinsou and Iida protecting you

Request: Hello can I request todo, shinsou and iida protecting their girlfriend from cat callers or something like that? Basically her being in a really uncomfortable situation and even though she is a fearless hero in the field because of past trauma she freezes up in these situations? Thank you - anonymous

This post might trigger some people since they might have experienced something similar both in the cat calling and past trauma department. I’ve never really written anything so serious and triggering before so this might suck. I’m sorry in advance. So TW beware. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: trauma, PTSD, semi non-con but not explicit, cat-calling, harassment, ends in fluff

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto is really protective of you. 

-Not an overbearing type of protective, he just wants you to be safe and sound. 

-Also he knew about your abusive past.

-When he shared his family background you shared your own trauma and history with physical abuse. 

-It hurt him to hear you saying that someone you trusted, someone who used to be in his place, betrayed you like that. 

-If he could find your ex and beat him to a plump because of how he scarred you, he would. 

-But you reassured him that you were alright now, that he showed you what being loved felt like even though he himself didn’t really know how to love and that your past is what pushed you to be a hero. 

-Your relationship lasted even after high school and now, one year into the adult world, you two lived together. 

-It had been a tough day for your boyfriend at work, having to fight three major villain attacks and a mountain of paper work to tackle. 

-Fighting along side you was the highlight of his day. 

-He was the first to arrive at your apartment and had gotten to preparing dinner for you when his phone rang. 

-You smiled back at him from the screen as he accepted the call. 

- “Hey, love. I making so-”

- “Sho someone is following me.”

-He heard the panic in your voice and immediately turned off the stove walking to the door to put on his shoes. 

- “Y/N where are you?”

-You gave him your location and he was out the door in no time. 

-He kept you on the phone, talking to you, trying to restrain your panic. 

- “H-he was outside of the pharmacy near the a-agency.” 

-You never stuttered, oh god he was going to kill the man. 

- “I walked past him and he grabbed my arm a-and pushed me on the w-wall. Shouto he tried to t-touch me.”

-He was running now, his rage making his quirk go crazy as flames rose from his left shoulder. 

- “Baby I’m almost there, go into the convenience store on the corner and wait in there.”

-Your weak okay from the other line pushed him further. 

-He knew how certain acts reminded you of your ex, even after all these years. 

-They would send you into a small panic and even though you were one of the top upcoming heroes , you were still human at the end of the day your own past haunting you. 

-He was always there to chase those fears and memories away, never letting them get to close to you. 

-And now that’s exactly what he has set out to do; chase away the man who tried to hurt you. 

-Rounding the corner he was met with a sight he wished to never ever witness again. 

-It seems that you hadn’t made it into the store when he hang up and he slapped himself for not keeping you on the call for longer. 

-He heard your sobs as the man had you pinned to the wall his hand trying to unzip your jeans. 

-Shouto was fuming. 

-Without a second thought he grabbed the man by his jacket and shoved him to the ground, grabbing your elbows to steady you before pushing you gently behind him as the man stood up. 

- “Want a taste of her too boy?”

- “Get the fuck away from her!”

-Shouto kept one of his arms behind him pressing you onto his back as the other activated his quirk frost forming from his elbow to his palm. 

-He could feel your trembling as you clutched onto his shirt, on of your hands grasping his own squeezing it. 

-The man backed away at the sight of Shouto’s ice raising his hands in the air admitting defeat. 

-Shouto however had other plans. 

-Freezing the man on the spot he growled as he fished his phone out of his pocket and called the police reporting what the man had done and his location.

- “If I ever see you again anywhere near her I’m not going to be this kind got it?”

-And with that you two left as the police sirens sounded in the distance. 

-Back in your apartment, Shouto helped you get undressed and then ran you a bath, wiping away the man’s touch and leaving small kisses were his hands used to be. 

-He helped you get dressed in one of his hoodies and a loose pair of sweatpants before setting you down on the couch and ordering your favorite food.

-He heard your small sniffles and sat down beside you, bringing you on his lap and letting you cry it out, rocking you back and forth as he kisses your hair.

-You calm down after some time but Shouto won’t let you leave his embrace.

- “I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again. I don’t care where I am you will always call me when something happens. I love you.”

-For the next month or so Shouto was at your beck and call, never leaving your side and even going as far to take some days off to spend as much time with you as possible.

-He kept his promise as he kept you safe for the rest of your lives. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Hitoshi was there for you when he found out about how one of you family members had hurt you. 

-He was there when you would wake up with nightmares while sleeping in his dorm. 

-Or when you had panic attacks after someone came at you in a way that seemed all too familiar. 

-He was there every step of the way. 

-Hitoshi was really amazed at how you zoned in on your work and those thoughts never held you back. 

-PTSD was hard to battle and even harder to deal with in a work place such as yours. 

-After high school your panic attacks fell in numbers, leaving you to rest peacefully at night.

-Shinsou was sure he had chased your demons away, that you felt completely safe with him and that he would never see your trembles of fear ever again.

-But he was wrong. 

-You two were out on a date, walking along the beach on a sunny day enjoying each others company. 

-Shinsou went to buy you two ice cream leaving you to wait for him on a bench.

-You were minding your business, checking up with your agency to make sure everything is alright; after all it’s not everyday that your main two heroes are out of commission for the day. 

- “Damn girl where’d ya get all that ass!”

-It came from a group of man behind you who were staring at you like a piece of meat.

-You tried to ignore them switching to your messages ready to text Hitoshi.

- “Those shorts look so tight on you sweetheart.”

- “I bet it’s not the only thing that’s tight about her.”

-You had frozen up at the nickname.

-It brought back everything you and Shinsou had managed to scare off, pushing them down your throat making your insides twist in disgust. 

 -He isn’t here it’s just some awful cat callers, Y/N calm down. 

-You tried to calm yourself down using your common sense, separating the two situations and pointing out the differences, a  technique Shinsou had taught you while you were still in high school.

-You were so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed the three men hovering over you, one of them reaching down to grasp your thigh. 

-That’s when you started to tremble.

- “Aw look at her, she’s so excited..”

- “Let’s go have some fun pretty girl.”

- “We’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to walk home.”

-You shoved the man’s hand away and went to get up only for an arm to snake around your waist  pulling you back down on the bench. 

- “Now now sweetheart don’t be naughty.”

-You wanted Hitoshi. 

-You wanted your Hitoshi so bad right now.

-And as if you had summoned him, purple hair could be seen above the men’s heads. 

-Shoving them off of you one more time you pushed through hitting Shinsou’s chest as he wrapped an arm around you. 

-He pushed you behind his back before scanning the three men, leveling them with a glare so sharp it could slice right through them. 

- “You better leave my girl alone before I get really angry.”

-The men scrambled to their feet before running off, terrified from Hitoshi’s structure. 

- “Kitten! Kitten are you alright? Did they hurt you? Please kitty talk to me.”

-Tears ran down your cheeks and Shisnou just pulled you gently into his chest before telling you that he was taking you home.

-This man will do everything in the house after that. 

-He undresses you and helps into the shower to clear their touch from your skin, then he dresses you in one of his large hoodies and lays you on the couch. 

-He can see you are still trembling so he comes back and takes you into his arms before going back to doing whatever he had in mind. 

-Now this is a scene to behold. 

-Two of Japan’s strongest heroes are walking around their house cosplaying a panda and its bamboo stick. 

 -He orders take out and then lays on the couch, still having you on his lap drowning your sobs in his chest as he says over and over again how sorry he is for leaving you alone and how much he loves you. 

-He knows you haven’t had an episode in what felt like ages. 

-It really shook him seeing you so helpless and terrified again. 

-He swore he would never see that petrified glint in your eyes. 

-That was his new mission. 

-And he was willing to do anything to accomplish it. 

Iida Tenya 

-Iida is well aware about how your ex had forced you to do certain things with him. 

-He also knew how you believed that what had happened had been your fault. 

-He had reassured you that nothing was your fault,that your ex was to blame and to never see yourself other than the victim in this situation. 

-It hurt him to see you suffer so much. 

-He had provided you with a shoulder to cry on and soon enough you two were together.

-When during your last year of high school, his comfort and words didn’t really cut it he encouraged you to see a therapist. 

-And that helped you a lot. 

-It untangled the parts Iida couldn’t reach on his own and coupled with his support you managed to pull yourself fully out of the whole that your ex had dug. 

-Now Iida knew that somethings still triggered you. 

-He knew what he should and shouldn’t do while you two are being intimate and what he should watch out for. 

-So when you two are taking the train to visit Deku in his agency for his birthday and he feels you squeezed his hand a little too hard he knew something was up. 

-You had buried you face in his shoulder, something he wouldn’t allow if you had asked, squeezing his hand as your breathing became uneven. 

-Iida looked around expecting to see your ex somewhere thinking that he was the reason for your small attack. 

-But he found no one he knew in the crowd. 

-Then his eyes fell back down to you and from the corner of his eye he caught movement under your dress. 

-Following the source of the movement with his eyes he was met with the lustful eyes of a grown ass man, his hand under your skirt groping and squeezing you. 

-He saw his hand trying to separate your thighs and that’s when he fully snapped. 

-Grabbing the man’s hand he shoved it in his chest before placing himself between you and him. 

- “How dare you touch her like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

-The whole train was looking at the man at this point and Iida could see how the vein on his forehead popped. 

- “Being an adult, you should know better.”

-Others chimed in insulting and shaming the man while others asked you if you were alright. 

-At the next stop the person got off a chain of angry comments following him out. 

- “Y/N honey are you alright?”

-You buried your face in his chest and he let you stay there for the rest of the ride. 

-He placed on hand on your back rubbing soft circles over your sweater and talking to you not allowing your thoughts/memories to creep further into your mind. 

-He kept your hand in his for as long as you were away from your apartment. 

-You would squeeze his hand every now and then, grounding yourself. 

-Once at home late that evening he pampered you. 

-He ran you a bubble bath and cooked your favorite food. 

-He made a small pillow fort on your couch while you were in the bath and he waited for you to finish. 

-The rest of your day and night was spent in your boyfriend’s arms never letting you go once. 

-He provided his warmth and comfort. 

-Just like when you were in high  school.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[pretty-face-breaker]

Maybe Not Now

During Pavel’s daily torment of him, Emir sees something in him that he hadn’t seen before.

c.w. military whump, sadistic whumper, forced exercise as punishment, insults, degrading language, captivity, alluding to death as an alternative to torture

 —

“That’s all for now, soldaty. Back to your dorms and make it neat,” General Levkin called. 

With a raise of his palm, collective relief could be heard above the fading grunts. Men rose from the field and dusted their palms on their trousers, snatching up their rifles. Twenty of them clicked sharply as they swung over various shoulders. Some grabbed a drink of water they had been meaning to get for hours as clouds swept over the barren training grounds. 

The drills of the day were over. 

As the soldiers filed after one another, murmuring too fast and foreign to be kept up with, Emir followed behind with a dry throat. His arms ached. He could hardly remember making that many mistakes in his basic training or what were supposedly called mistakes by Stanislav Levkin’s eye. He always seemed to catch him doing something wrong. Inaccurate aim. Sloppy position. Poor posture. 

But he had taken the admonitions, the hits and laps, nodded obediently, straightened his back or concentrated harder on his aim. He didn’t feel like fighting the corrections in front of fifty others and with the amount of sleep hardly managed each night, he didn’t doubt some were his fault. That, and for other reasons. Emir winced as a now clear head focussed on the burning in his bicep. 

The place Pavel had rubbed the salt earlier that week. 

Maybe yes, sir-ing his way through the drills had been also to spare his throat from overexerting itself more than he had torn in, wailing wordlessly among laughter and pleading in broken Russian to a man who likely hadn’t heard the word in his life. Emir grimaced and, feeling a bump of a body behind him, sped up to climb the stairs. Until he felt a hand pulling him aside. 

“Not so fast. Hey, you.” Pavel grinned as he pulled him from formation and back down the steps.

Emir froze and his hand shot to his collar, trying to keep his balance. “Podozhdite—” But Pavel wasn’t one to wait and pulled him fiercely until he tripped on the rocks, barely catching himself on the stone railing. Humiliated, he straightened up glaring. Pavel’s leer was ever present with that same colour of resentment, his eyes cold and devising. 

The taller man chuckled. “Did you even complete your recruit training? With how today went, I thought Stas was going to pin you to that target.”

Emir swallowed, trying not to dignify that with a response. 

Pavel’s face darkened in silence. “Follow me then get on the fucking ground. I’m not done with you.” 

His heart slammed in his throat as he followed without a word, feeling his fingertips grow cold as the group’s noises faded. With each moment, he pushed his feet further to the edges of the terrain where voices ended and the forest began and each step felt harder to take, the closer those trees got. He sucked in a quiet breath when Pavel stopped. 

“Drop. Feet together.” 

Emir obeyed, falling tense to the pushup form, and dug his nails into the earth for a brief moment, just to feel the cool of the grass, to ground himself. Once, he let his lungs expand with a breath and plunged. Pavel didn’t have to say a word for him to begin and he figured he could save him the trouble. Save it for himself too so he wouldn’t have to pay for it later again. 

He bent his elbows, breathing evenly and keeping them tracking alongside his body, until his chest dipped just below the angle of each elbow, then pushed back up, expelling the air. Slow, controlled so his throat wouldn’t burn like it had last time. His eyes were fixed on the trees across from him, the endless stretch of wood and darkness that he watched from his bed sometimes. 

It reminded him of the trip he had taken years ago, camping with his cousins after having convinced his mother that he would bring a gun and that everything would go well. Even now, he remembered the distaste in her head shake and the veiled worry in her tone as she had thrown up a hand in defeat. 

Fine, abni, but if you get mauled by a bear, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

A smile graced his mouth. It was like he was hardly there anymore. Though a few reps more and he felt a shift in breathing as Pavel sunk down onto the log next to him. 

“Feel like this has gotten easier for you. A hundred and fifty reps, nothing, eh?” He chuckled and patted him on the shoulder with enough force that Emir briefly swayed. “Fast learner. You don’t piss me off as much.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me?” Emir asked coolly. His jaw tightened a bit, hearing the huff. As if the question was a challenge. 

“Because you’re fun to hurt. You make fun noises, give me—all of us—a good time.” 

Pavel’s eye caught a nearby stone and he tapped on his knee thoughtfully as Emir plunged into another graceful pushup. The leer he wore quickly grew crooked and he revelled in the tiny spark of fear that stuttered Emir’s breathing. Hearing it was always wonderful because it meant the little shit was listening to him and on his toes more often than he had been. 

“I noticed your back was all fucked up,” Pavel admitted, reaching for the rock which could have easily been five pounds, “when we changed.” 

Emir’s eyes stayed frozen on the hollow of a nearby tree. His chest was beginning to burn with the onset of faint panic but he was surprised as it wasn’t his fiftieth repetition yet where the burning usually started. “Is that new?” 

The pressure of the rock came fully and at once into the small of his back and he jerked and tightened into a plank. He couldn’t move for a few seconds, realizing Pavel’s intention. 

“You haven’t finished. Keep going or the next one goes into your head.” 

Admittedly, the next few repetitions of the pushup were only slightly less comfortable, just a tinge less familiar with the weight on his spine and he felt his elbows wobble only the slightest amount. Still, Emir persisted. He had gone no more than ten before the next rock, larger this time, sat in front of the first. Hearing Pavel’s snicker, a silent rage caved in his chest. 

“You just had to fall into my hands, huh?” he laughed, patting the ground for another. “Unlucky bastard.” 

Emir was beginning to feel the onset of exhaustion seeping into an already worn body. He knew if he collapsed, Pavel would have something to say about it, presumably with his shoe. He winced and exhaled on the wrong motion, had to pause for a moment and focus his breathing before the next plunge and all while ignoring the wry laughter of the man next to him. 

“At least I’m not dead,” he muttered. 

Pavel stirred before he was about to lay the third rock on the next few ridges of his spine. At first, he scoffed off the response but didn’t resume the motion. He stayed silent for a few moments, letting Emir dip into the next less-than-graceful pushup and watched a bead of sweat roll down his dark temple. Something akin to cynical admiration passed across his eyes.

“You’d rather be alive, here?”  

This time, Emir stopped too. He kept his eyes forward, trained as usual, but too long had passed for it to feel like Pavel’s routine. His gaze gradually flickered over to the green eyes and tan skin beside him that so typically fixed him like prey, now staring at him in annoyed curiosity. “Yeah,” he admitted. 

The trees rustled softly in the background, dampening the mechanics from the camp as if they were unpleasant, fading memories. 

“You’re an idiot.” Pavel let the stone go and smirked to himself at the wince but it was less self-satisfied. “For getting caught and for thinking this is going to be better.”

“My pilot got shot and we crashed directly in front of you,” Emir grumbled, feeling a pulling need to defend his honour and that of his late pilot’s. “Didn’t get caught.” He glanced at Pavel warily and breathed out, seeing no brimming violence under his expression. “Besides, I-I have a family at home to think about.” 

The green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not going home.” 

He swallowed, not quite yielding. “Maybe not now.” 

“Maybe not ever.” 

Emir waited in silence for a minute more, saying little besides the soft, stuttering breaths that whistled in unison with the pines, gull calls, and the dirt twisting under Pavel’s shoe. He sensed it was an exercise to relieve boredom with how often he did it. He didn’t want to think about what Pavel had just said.

He thought about it too often, already. 

Slowly, he exhaled and pushed down again under the weight of three rocks, elbows bending alongside his body, and inhaled like it would be his last breath on his—shit, he had lost count. He mechanically continued, hoping that at a certain point, Pavel would stop him and let him go when he had fulfilled the day’s quota of entertainment but then, froze completely upon realizing that it had always been his responsibility to count. 

Pavel noticed his uncertainness. “What? You lost count or something?” 

Emir did nothing for a minute before lapsing into silent despair and nodding. What was the worst he could do, really? Kick him in the ribs? Big fucking whoop. He waited for the blow anyways, feeling that it would be a welcome relief to the incessant burning in his arms that threatened to have his entire body give out at that moment and crash to the ground onto that asshole’s boot. 

But in the meantime, Pavel had been quiet and uncharacteristically thoughtful. 

“Get up,” he ordered. “That’s enough.” He pushed himself up from the log and stretched to the clouds, wincing himself at the unwise angle he had been slouching in since Emir had begun the exercise. “Go back to your dorm and don’t let me see you again today.” 

Too stunned to move, Emir fixed him with a fearful look until he realized it was a serious order. He could have let himself fall to the ground and really, it was tempting. To lay there and let the exhaustion seep into the dirt but Pavel’s patience already seemed stick-thin and he didn’t want to push today’s generosity. He rolled to let the rocks fall off and bolted to standing, starting his journey back to the camp. When he turned for Pavel’s approval, the man wasn’t moving. 

His eyebrows pricked up. “Maybe not now,” he muttered. “Idiot.”  

Tagging: @straight-to-the-pain @heathenville

 Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!

[nagito-kissmaeda]

I really don't know if requests are open so I'm sorry if I didn't noticed they're closed 💔 However if they are open could you please write Nagito with female s/o that lost bet to Hiyoko and running around island in maid dress?

ミ☆ Sorry this took me so long! Also it got very nasty and i hope that is okay lol. I can’t help myself when it comes to Nagito. Word count: 2024 Contains: NSFW, fem reader, they/them pronouns, explict sexual content, voyeurism ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

This is humiliating. 

The Jabberwock island sun is burning down hot as always, you can feel the skin of your bare arms already starting to burn and your legs are getting sweaty under the thick thigh high socks. This outfit was not designed for this weather, but clearly Hiyoko Saionji cared very little about that fact.

She is walking beside you, snickering behind a hand. The six inch heels she has forced you into makes her seem even shorter than usual.

You sigh, “How much longer?”

“I told you! One whole lap of the islands!” She taps a finger to her chin, feigning thoughtfulness, “We’re about...halfway done.”

You huff and cross your arms. You don't usually wear heels, your feet are already starting to ache, and the unpaved path on central island makes it even harder for you to walk, “Can I at least take the shoes off?”

Saionji scoffs, “Uh, obviously not. The heels are essential. You think i'm just gonna let you run around in sneakers? What would even be the fucking point?”

“Yeah, yeah, Okay. I get it.” 

To be fair, this was all your fault. After waking up from the Neo World Program, you and the rest of your classmates found that the island was a mess and had spent the past few months slowly making it livable. It must have been rotten luck that got you paired with Saionji to clean out the back room in the diner on the second island. Apparently the waitresses who worked there before the island was abandoned used to wear sexy maid costumes, and there happened to be one in your size. Saionji had said something about a bet, that if you were game enough to walk around in the maid costume, she would take on your cleaning duties for the next three days. It was a bad idea, you really should have said no.

There's a gust of wind and your short skirt flutters around your thighs. You clench your jaw and try your best to keep your panties from showing. Saionji laughs again. 

“Remember when we bumped into Hanamura earlier and he said that he thought you looked-”

“Shut up, Saionji.” You hiss, walking a little faster as you cross the bridge over to the first island, “Withstanding your ridicule was not part of the deal.”

“Yeah, but it wasn't not not part of the deal.” She sticks her tongue out. 

The heels are so loud on the wooden slats of the bridge, and it takes a decent amount of effort to stop yourself from getting stuck in one of the gaps and tripping. You can tell Saionji thinks it is very funny how hard you need to focus on your own feet. 

“Okay.” She says as you step out onto the island, “One loop here, and then back to the second island. You might actually manage it if you dont trip and break a leg on the way back,”

You shoot her a glare, “Was that a threat?”

She shrugs, “Just saying you should watch where you walk” She playfully taps your shin with the side of her foot, you manage not to stumble, but it was still a dirty move. 

Before you are able to call her out for her nasty trick, Saionji laughs again and nods her head in the direction of the cabins. You’ve just made your way in through the front gate, and are about to head down to the restaurant, “Look who was lucky enough to leave his cottage right as were walking past.”

Saionji’s intonation on the word lucky makes your stomach twist and turn. You’re too afraid to follow her line of sight, swallowing nervously and looking down at the ground, “Hey, uh, i think I’m calling it here. You win.”

You move to walk away, buy Saionji grabs you by the wrist, “What are you chickening out for? I didn't realise you were such a loser.”

“Saionji” You warn, glaring down at her, “You better let me go or else i will-”

“Ah, hello!” Komaeda interrupts. You freeze, heart racing at the sound of his voice. This is literally the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Your cheeks are burning “How lucky it is that I get to see the both of...ah…” His voice slowly trails off as he notices what you are wearing. It's with a newfound desperation that you struggle to escape Saionji’s grip, but she holds fast. 

“Hey, Weirdo.” Saionji jeers, her hand still tight around your wrist, “Do you like this cute outfit I found?”

“Oh...I...uh…” 

You let your eyes slip up to his face. Komaeda has his hair up in a ponytail and his cheeks are burning red as he stares down at the length of bare thigh peeking out from the top of your stockings. You can hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

You like Komaeda. As in, you really like Komaeda. 

Seeing him getting all flustered is doing strange things to your stomach, but you are still frozen with embarrassment. 

“I think he likes it~” Saionji taunts, smirking up at you. 

His eyes are combing over you, his lower lip pulled in between his teeth. There's warmth between your thighs, your fingernails are digging into your palms. You barely even notice as you start getting bolder, gently brushing the hemline of your skirt with your hand, tugging it a little further up your thigh. Komaeda’s throat bobs. 

“Did...did Saionji make you do this?” He asks.

You nod, still feeling too overwhelmed to actually say anything. He must see the way you are looking at him, the way his blush runs all the way down to his collarbones, the way you want desperately to see more of his skin. His eyes meet yours questioning, but hungry. 

“You look…” he heaves a shaky breath, eyes quickly flitting over to Saionji  like he is trying to remind himself that she is still there, “...good.”

You grip onto the fabric of your skirt to stop your hands from shaking, “Thank you. Um-” you look down at your toes for a moment,  “Hanamura got kind of weird about it, but i'm uh…” you look back up at Komaeda, his eyes are perfect and green, “I’m glad that you like it…”

He’s just staring at you now, and you hope that he understands the meaning of your words. That maybe this whole embarrassing ordeal is worth it if he finds you attractive. You want him so badly, you want him to want you so badly. The way his eyes roam over your body makes you quiver with something. Nerves? Excitement? 

“What the fuck is happening right now?”

You and Komaeda are suddenly pulled from a trance and forced to look back down at Saionji. She’s staring up at you with a mix of horror and confusion.

You feel a bolt of arousal shoot down to your center when Komaeda turns to her and says, “Would you mind leaving us alone, Saionji-san?”

Saionji blinks, “Huh? We’ve still got to walk all the way back to the second island or they lose the bet! I'm not going anywhere in case she cheats!”

“Bet’s off.” You say, pulling your wrist from her grasp and taking a step closer to Komaeda. God, even with the heels on he is still taller than you, “You should really go.”

Saionji barks a laugh, “Fine, but you better not complain when you have cleaning duty all next week.” 

He is very subtle about it, but you feel the cool touch of Komaeda’s fingers on your bare thigh, he stares at Saionji over your shoulder and is much less polite when he says, “Saionji, leave.” 

You don't turn around, but you hear the sound of sandals clattering on wood as she dashes out of the hotel area. The second she is out of view, Komaeda grabs you by the shoulders and pins you up against the wall of the closet cottage (Souda’s? It really doesn't matter) breathing so heavily that you can see his shoulders shaking.

“I’m...I’m so sorry...I” He back pedals, letting his arms fall to the sides, “I don't know what came over me, I'm such garbage i-”

Fuck it, you think. Grabbing the front of his coat and tugging his lips up against yours. It takes him a moment to recognise what is even happening, but the second he does, his large hands grab tight on either side of your waist and he kisses you back in a fervor. You can feel him moan against your lips, and it’s too much for you. So you spin him around until he is the one with his back up against the wall, jamming your knee in between his legs and shoving one hand up under his shirt. His skin is smooth, you can feel his ribs under your fingers. He whimpers under your lips when your tongue enters his mouth, tangling with his, and one of his hands creeps down to the short hemline of your skirt, slipping his fingers up underneath. You hear him choke on a moan when he finds that your stockings are being held up by a garter-belt. 

“You’re killing me.” He hisses against your mouth. 

You lift up the knee between his legs and grind it against his crotch. He makes the cutest little noise, hips wriggling against the pressure of your knee until he is basically fucking himself on it. You moan at the sight of him, cheeks red, hair mussed, writhing against you desperately. 

“That’s a good boy.” You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat, “Does that feel nice?”

“Hng-I….I…” he throws his head backward until it collides with the wall, “What about..ahhAH...what about you?”

Watching him like this is getting you wet enough as it is, you smirk and suck gently on his pulse point, “What about me? I want to watch you cum, sweetheart. That’s what i want.”

His green eyes are blown wide when they meet yours, he swallows, “Out….outside?”

“Yeah, baby.” You press your knee up even harder and relish in the choked sound he makes, “Right here.” 

You aren't sure what it is about the maid costume that gives you this confidence, but you feel powerful. Watching Komaeda moan and drool as he grinds furiously against your stocking-clad knee is only making you feel sexier. 

The hand you have under his shirt sneaks upward even further, he squeaks when you rub one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger, “You think you can cum for me, sweetheart?”

He nods furiously, hips quivering as you continue biting and sucking your way down his throat and over his shoulder. You can feel him growing more desperate, you can feel his pressing his throbbing cock harder and harder against the unyielding pressure of your knee. His mouth is hung open, drool is dripping down his chin and he is flushed all the way down to his chest. You moan just from the mere sight of him, your sex clenching with desire, but that would have to wait. You wanted to watch him come undone.

“I…I’m” he whines, writhing and panting against you, “I’m so close…”

“You’re going to cum?”

Komaeda makes a noise of affirmation, but it mostly just sounds like a moan. You grin and push your knee up even higher, leaning in to lick up the shell of his ear.

“Go on, then.” You whisper, “Cum for me, pretty boy,”

A moan rips through him. So loud that anyone nearby must have heard it. His hips quiver and shake against you, grinding and wriggling and then finally coming to a stop. He looks godlike, his hair fucked five ways to hell and his eyes glazed over with arousal. A shaky giggle escapes his mouth, and then he licks his lips. 

“Okay. Your turn”

You don't resist when he grabs you by the hand and pulls you to his cottage. Maybe Saionji actually helped you out for once, even if she didn't mean it. 

[tickly-trashcan]

The Best Medicine {IwaOi}

A/N: I hope you don’t mind but I decided to have Iwaizumi join Oikawa in this fic! Love to my bestie who helped me come up with the idea, your brain is huge, muah muah. I enjoyed writing this one, Oikawa is always so fun to write! (even if he ended up a little bit out of character in this fic, sorry!) I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Oikawa is sick, and when he refuses to take his medicine, what will Iwaizumi do?

Word Count: 1.2k (under the cut)

Oikawa sneezed, whining as he reached for another tissue. 

He felt so pathetic, catching a cold in the middle of volleyball season. All he could do was sit here and do nothing as he laid on his bed, mumbling to himself angrily. He hated not being able to play volleyball, it made him upset since volleyball was basically his life. He looked out the window in his bedroom, slightly sad as he sighed.

“Hey, Oikawa, I got your medicine,” A voice came, and Oikawa immediately perked up, looking towards his bedroom door to see Iwaizumi walk in with a plastic shopping bag. He set it down on Oikawa’s bedside table, sitting on the bed next to Oikawa who made grabby hands at Iwaizumi.

“I’m not hugging you when you’re sick,” He said quickly, but Oikawa gave him puppy eyes, and against Iwaizumi’s better judgement, he gave Oikawa a quick hug.

“I feel better already with you here,” Oikawa said, grinning as Iwaizumi flushed, reaching into the plastic bag for some cold medicine, the kind that you drink. Oikawa inched backwards, shaking his head.

“I am not taking that,” He said as soon as Iwaizumi pulled it out, and Iwaizumi clicked his tongue.

“Yes, you are. They were out of the regular stuff, so this is grape flavored.”

“I can already feel myself getting sicker,” Oikawa said, faking a gag as he pointed at his mouth, shaking his head.

“You’re not gonna get sicker from this, it’s going to make you better, now take it.”

“Make me,” Oikawa said, crossing his arms across his chest. Iwaizumi frowned.

He poured the medicine into the cap and held it out to Oikawa, who cringed away from it, shaking his head and biting his lips.

“No way in hell am I drinking that, I bet it tastes like barf.”

“I already told you, it tastes like grapes. Here,” Iwaizumi took a sip of the liquid, despite not needing it, and nodded his head assuredly. “Yeah, it tastes just like grapes. Nothing to worry about, just take a sip and be done with it.”

He refilled the cap with the medicine, handing it to Oikawa, who refused to take it. 

“I’m not taking it! You’ll eat anything, I’m sure you didn’t mind the taste!” Oikawa whined, pushing the cap away from himself and back to Iwaizumi, who growled angrily.

“It’s not my fault you’re so picky,” He complained, and Oikawa gasped.

“I am not picky!”

“Then take the medicine!”

“No!”

Iwaizumi had had enough, and he set the medicine down on the side table and jumped onto the bed, startling Oikawa who cried out suddenly as Iwaizumi sat on top of him, pinning him to the bed with his legs.

“Wh-What are you doing?! I’m sick!” Oikawa exclaimed, and Iwaizumi looked up at him, scowling.

“You’re sick, which means you should take your damn meds! But since you won’t do it willingly, I’m gonna have to do this,” Iwaizumi said, latching his hands onto Oikawa’s sides. His eyes widened as he looked at Iwaizumi with pleading eyes.

“Iwa-chan, don’t! Dohon’t!! Wahahaha, you’re so mehehehean!” Oikawa wailed as Iwaizumi started to tickle his sides, Oikawa flailing around as he pounded his fists into Iwaizumi’s chest.

“Hey, you know what they say. Laughter is the best medicine,” Iwaizumi said with a sinister chuckle as Oikawa shrieked, kicking his legs as the blankets he was currently tucked in started to fly everywhere.

“Yohohohou can’t do this to mehehehe! I-I’m sihihick!” Oikawa whined, laughing harder as Iwaizumi moved up to his ribs, kneading his ribcage as Oikawa threw his head back.

Iwaizumi had always done this to help him get what he wanted, ever since they were little. This was the one way that Oikawa would do whatever he asked, even just the mere threat of it could make Oikawa crumble. He used it during practice meets a lot whenever Oikawa wasn’t cooperating with the other team or with his own teammates. But sometimes, like now, Oikawa would feel rather stubborn, and it would take more than a little tickling to get him to cooperate.

Oikawa squealed when Iwaizumi started to dig his fingers into his ribcage, prodding as he wiggled them between his ribs, Oikawa shaking his head back and forth as he laughed loudly and openly. 

“Iwahahahaha-chaaaaan! Stahahahahap!”

“Take the medicine and I’ll stop,” Iwaizumi said simply, rubbing his thumb in circles on Oikawa’s upper ribs as he shrieked, clamping his arms down, kicking his legs frantically as hysterical giggles continued to pour rapidly from his lips.

“N-Nehehehehehever!” Oikawa wailed, squirming around as he continued to cackle.

“Suit yourself then,” Iwaizumi said flatly, burying his hands under Oikawa’s arms as he screeched, arching his back off the bed as he snorted, laughing harder and louder than before as his body shook. 

Oikawa shook his head, laughter bubbling out of his throat like an uncontrollable fountain as Iwaizumi tickled the living hell out of the poor, sick boy. 

“Plehehehehehease, not thehehere! Anywhere but thehehehere!”

“You know exactly how to make it stop,” Iwaizumi said, scratching his fingers under Oikawa’s arms as he squeaked before dissolving into more hysterical laughter.

“I-I don’t wannahahahaha!!”

“Then we’re gonna keep going.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t hide the smirk on his face no matter how hard he tried. It wasn’t like he didn’t tickle Oikawa often, he definitely did, he just never got bored of it. It was always nice to see his friend let loose and laugh sometimes, especially when he wasn’t having a lot of fun like right now. Volleyball was his favorite thing, and when he wasn’t able to do it he would be upset.

Iwaizumi had known Oikawa for years at this point, it was easy for him to pick up on his friend's mood. He could tell he was feeling a bit down since he wasn’t able to play, so Iwaizumi was trying to cheer him up as well as get him to take the medicine.

“Ahahahahalright! Alright, I’ll tahahahake the medicineee!” Oikawa finally wailed, squirming from side to side as Iwaizumi slowed his tickling and pulled his hands away. Iwaizumi puffed his chest triumphantly and Oikawa shoved him, whining.

“You’re so mean…”

“I have to be with you,” Iwaizumi responded, picking up the medicine and pouring it into the cap. Oikawa cringed but took the cap from Iwaizumi, not wanting to spawn another tickle attack as he downed the medicine quickly, making a disgusted noise after he swallowed.

“Blegh! That was awful!”

“But it’s over now. You don’t have to take any more until tomorrow,” Iwaizumi explained, and Oikawa grinned.

“You sound like a mom.”

Iwaizumi sent Oikawa a glare, who only giggled innocently and shrugged his shoulders. Iwaizumi sighed, though he couldn’t hide the smile that creeped up his face at Oikawa’s antics. He got off the bed and waved to Oikawa, about to walk to the door to leave when he felt Oikawa grab his wrist, something akin to a pout on his face.

“Can’t you keep your poor, sick friend company?” He whined, and Iwaizumi chuckled fondly at Oikawa.

“I guess I can,” Iwaizumi said, sitting down once more on the bed as Oikawa was already telling him about some crazy dream he had the night before, Iwaizumi listening to him intently. Oikawa was lucky to have a friend like Iwaizumi…

[kj-1130]

Bullied

@youngjusticeimaginesus​ here is your request!

Main Masterlist

     You had been adopted by the Danvers family when you were quite young; barely a year old. They had been there for you basically since the beginning and you did consider them your family, regardless that you weren’t blood related. 

     While Kara and Alex had been living it up in National City, you were still stuck in boring Midvale. You were still in high school so you couldn’t exactly move with them. They visited every now and then, but you wished you could see them more. They made life so much better. 

     Midvale wasn’t the most exciting place to you. There wasn’t much for you to do--or much that Eliza allowed you to do-- and honestly, the people sucked. A lot of them were close-minded assholes who couldn’t care less about anybody. The students at the school you attended were somewhat bearable, but there was always that handful that thought they were better than everyone and ruled the school. 

     Unfortunately for you, your mouth had put you in the situation you were in now. Some guy--that you were pretty sure had been in eleventh grade for the past three years--had you pushed against the locker, your collar in his hand. 

     Apparently, you were in the wrong when you corrected his grammar and took the last apple all the same day and you guessed it pissed him off. 

     “Got nothing to say now, huh?” 

     You simply scrunched your nose and reached into your pocket to grab something. You held out your hand and in it was a mint. 

     “Your breath stinks. Do you want it?” 

     ‘Ooh’s’ rang out as he punched you in your jaw. Probably shouldn’t have said that. 

     “Ouch.”

     The boy(?) chuckled darkly and shook his head at you.

     “That ain’t nothing. I suggest you learn to keep your mouth closed unless you want some more?”

-

     You didn’t keep your mouth shut. 

     You were currently limping home while holding your jaw that still ached. Your backpack hung loosely on your left shoulder, your right one still sore from when he slammed you into the lockers. Your stomach hurt and you were pretty sure it was bruised black and blue. 

    You stayed the rest of the school day after the fight happened because you knew Eliza would have your ass if you were home early regardless of the situation. And it’s not like the school would call her. They turned a blind eye to every incident, fight, just about everything really. You thought they just didn’t want to do the paperwork. You didn’t blame them for that though; paperwork sucks. 

     So you just sat through it. You tried to make it straight home, but you were tired and in pain and you just wanted to rest, so you stopped at a bench that was on the sidewalk to take a breather. 

     You really could’ve handed his ass to him if you tried. Every now and then, Alex would teach you some self defense moves, but you knew fighting him would give him another reason for him and his buddies to target you. Also, the school system sucks and you would most likely be at fault for ‘agitating the student first’. And for some reason, the dude was a golden student at the school despite being like, three years younger than the youngest of the staff.

    “That’s probably why he gets away with it; bribes ‘em with sex. He’s probably not even that good. Shrimp dick,” you muttered while getting up from your spot. 

     Eventually, you made your way up to the driveway and got the key out to open the door. 

     “Stupid motherfucker. Stanky ass breath. Oompa loompa, noodle head looking ass. Got me fucked up.”

     You were so busy muttering insults, you didn’t notice your sisters sitting in the living room with your mom. You simply stomped--well the best you could--your way upstairs still mumbling any rude remarks that popped up in your head, most of it just angry gibberish at this point. 

     Both sisters looked at each other, then their mother with questioning looks on their faces. They all jumped when the door slammed closed. Alex decided to go check on you and Kara followed. She knocked and waited for you to answer.

     “Mom, for the last time; I don’t want to go to your weekly book club meetings. Who willingly reads Fahrenheit 451 anyway? That book gave me a migraine.”

     Your siblings both chuckled at your comments and opened the door. 

     “Not mom.”

     You pulled your head up to look at your sisters and furrowed your eyebrows.

     “You’re here?”

     Kara nodded her head and took a seat at the end of your bed and Alex watched as your face contorted in pain as you turned to look at them. 

     “Yes. You were probably too busy mumbling and stomping to notice.”

     Alex nodded in agreement and gained your attention.

     “Speaking of which, why were you mumbling and stomping? What’s going on?”

     “N-”

     “And don’t say nothing because I can see you cringe every time you move.”

     You sighed and realized there was literally no point in lying because they could tell if you were.

     “So there’s this dude in eleventh grade; I’m pretty sure he’s like 20 though. My question is how fucking dumb are you where you fail like three times? What type of sense does that make? Okay, maybe once is understandable; the school system sucks major ass and the material is absolutely useless anyway. Like why are we not learning how to start loans or do taxes. What is the point of school anyway? I’m not going to need to know the area or perimeter of the building I work in. The history is all bullshit too. Like I’m supposed to believe Christopher Columbus discovered America. ‘Discover’ my ass. That cracker wasn’t nothing but a racist and rapist. And I’m really supposed to believe Pocahontas willingly married that man? If they don’t go on somewhere with all of these lies. They always said lying is wrong in kindergarten. Why the fuck tell us that when all they do is lie? History is all a lie. All they do is-”

     “(Y/N)!”

     “Right! Sorry. Anyway. So he said something and I legitimately almost had a stroke trying to process it, so I corrected him and tried to make sense of what he was saying. Also I think I was in front of him in the lunch line one day and I got the last apple. I’m pretty sure he was like ‘leave it there or else,’ but I wasn’t worried ‘bout him. A bitch was hungry and I wasn’t about to starve at his expense. So like today he pinned me against the lockers. Lowkey thought he was about to eat my face off cause he was real close. I guess he was still hungry, but whatever. And he was like, ‘got nothing to say?’ And I was like ‘your breath stinks.’ And I handed him a mint. And then he punched me. In the jaw. And then he was like, ‘I can do a lot worse if you don’t shut up.’ I didn’t shut up. He punched me in my guts. I threw up in my mouth a little. Not gonna lie I wish he had hit me a bit harder so I could’ve thrown up on his new shoes. I’m pretty sure my shoulders are bruised too. He’s probably a kinky motherfucker in bed. He was like, an inch away from choking me now that I think about it.”

     You shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your Dork Diaries book. 

     Alex and Kara both slowly blinked, trying to process your fast rambling. 

     “Hold on. You got beat up?”

     “Mhmm.”

     “You didn’t tell the teachers?”

     “Nope.”

     “So you sat in pain. All day.”

     “Yeah, pretty much.”

     Kara looked at you concerned. 

     “What about those self-defense moves Alex has been teaching you?”

     You put your book down and gave them your full attention. 

     ‘Well, when I thought about it, I was like ‘schools think my shoulders are too sexy and can be a distraction, so I can’t wear tank tops.’ I can’t blame them though. My shoulders are beautiful and apparently they give guys boners. Anyway, I was thinking, ‘if they’re so sexist when it comes to clothing, how far are they willing to take that?’ And the more I thought about it, I was like, ‘wait, that dude is like only 3 years younger than the youngest staff member. So what if he’s like paying them with sex or something?’ And then I thought about it some more, and started thinking of all the times he was late to class and his clothes and hair were messy. And that time when I caught him and the calculus teacher sneaking out of the bathroom. I could probably catch them in the act. That’d be great blackmail…”

     You trailed off, starting to make a plan in your head.

     “What was the point in telling us that?”

     “Oh! I’m saying it’s hard for him to get in trouble. Like I’m pretty sure he’d convince some teacher that he’s innocent and that teacher would convince the principal he’s innocent and boom! I get suspended for no reason.”

     Kara and Alex looked at each other, already knowing they had the same idea about this whole situation. 

     “Well, let’s just get you patched up and talk to mom about switching schools. I don’t know about you, Kara, but I don’t feel comfortable with you going back there.”

-

     That same night, a special someone got a visit from Director Danvers and Supergirl. That same special someone also got their shoes burned to a crisp.