#I don’t care enough to really call anyone out or anything. It’s not worth harassing anyone or being rude to actors or show runners

[hazelcephalopod]

Listen. So 911. Imma be honest Buddie ship is great, I’m here for it, I think they should do it. In the canon of the show -bonus if the relationship is 99% the same except they kiss now. Do I really believe that has always been the endgame for them? No. Absolutely not -and maybe I’m wrong idk the deep lore I’m just a slightly more than casual viewer whose recently noticed the fandom. That said… to be clear this isn’t me trying to call the show out but just analyze the text in a colloquial way. This is normal mainstream tv and my expectations are real low*.

The show has that old school “look how close these two guys are. Like sooo close. Mm if they were different genders this would 100% be a will they won’t they dynamic” thing, the “this probably started as, a little bit of a joke about how close these two guys -or sometime girls!- are” while being a genuine friendship but there’s a vibe. (Or the oopsie option, also possible here tbh. S/x actors just do a thkng but imho it’s the other creatures responsibility to work with that?) Which, later the show starts to play into that more and more, usually creating a queerbait. Now, to be clear I’m using that descriptively. No judgment here, just that’s what I’m seeing. As I said could be an accident, coulda dig themselves into the old QB hole.

Because. Let’s go over it. You’ve got these two guys, they meet. They click instantly. They become the most important people in each other’s lives. They do all the other things the romantic couples do in the show. Meta the creators clearly know people are shipping them and play into that a bit while backing off by pairing each with random woman. In canon there’s jokes and comments about their really close relationship. One of them adopts the others child basically. Sometimes when one is hurt the other looks like they might weep or cry in agony. Sometimes you swear the looks they give each other have no straight explanation possible. Canonicly they are still just really close bros*. These. Are all hallmarks of a queerbait.

Now, maybe they have shifted to making it end game, at some point, during all this. But tbh, bc of all the history of queerbait in mainstream tv for the past idk, minimum 20-30 years? Really hard to tell the difference. Without some obvious signs it isn’t just queerbait, it’s just looks the same! Until one of them… has… queer experiences, and clearly is like “hmm. Maybe I. Am not straight.” Some obvious “this relationship is indeed being teased. As a real possibility and not just a joke” then I remain skeptical. It’s ok, I’ve been on the great queerbait train many times, and I will take those ships to my -and the characters- grave! But it means I am on the look out for them. *theres several points im going to cover under the cut

Yes this show has. A lesbian couple, maybe a gay side character. And some queer characters on the spin off show, which is run by different people -at least enough it’s different, and now it’s on a different network, also there’s 1 same sex couple last time I checked. Tbh. While there’s some wonderful exceptions. It I commons for a mainstream show like this to have a max of one same sex couple per show. It’s a bad thing, I don’t like it, there should be room one these shows for multiple main queer couples. But it’s pretty standard for 1 max.

Yes men can be friends. Bros. Very close platonic bros. Absolutely.

You know who are also very close friends? Hen and Chim, I’ve never ever thought they were anything but close friends. Or even Athena and Hen -tbf I imagine there’s some shippable stuff there and go for it have fun- they seem really close, but not really like they’re gonna become a couple tbh.

you know who seems way closer than that? Bobby and Athena, or Chim and Maddie, or Hen and Karen, and Buck and Eddie often seem closer than them tbh.

Also. Let’s be honest. I also like QPR Buddie, but this is mainstream TV. I repeat. They can barely have more than one lesbian couple and a gay side character so, I have little faith they are going to grapple with, asexuality or aromanticism and QPR’s, especially with long standing cis so far het man main characters. But maybe I’m wrong and they might go there, and I’d be delightfully surprised. I’ll settle for just make them kiss already plz. (Tbh I admit the vibes of premier of season 7, increase my belief a little.)

I admit. Shippers are gonna ship. People like doing it it’s fun. S/x on almost nothing at all. Here I really do think, there’s some good reasons people are shipping these two characters. People can bring receipts. Anyway. I can only advise, not being an asshole. Either to shippers or shippers, shippers don’t be an asshole.

Personally I just needed to hash all this out. Get ready to be kinda disappointed and know… it’s just how it goes. Idk.

Also. Tbh. If they don’t do some of the “this isn’t a queerbait” signs soon -and this part is a criticism- than they are either ignorant, incompetent, or if not irresponsible, rude. Imho. Or at least like fully… explore that idea of them being in a romantic relationship and then reject it. I won’t like it but I’ll respect it.

[rotzaprachim]

one of the things that’s so grotesque is like, never in my life have I ever felt people en masse really cared very much about Jews or wanted us to be safe, and that includes Israelis. They don’t care about us but we can be used to justify so so much mass death on people who never hurt us at all. I spent four years living in a horrific Antisemitism Country, a now “neutral” Western European power which killed Jews, expelled jews, banned Jews for hundreds of years. There were large Eastern European and middle eastern diasporas there and I was almost always the First Jew anyone had ever met - or that had admitted to being Jewish. People regularly assumed jews controlled the world media. I got harassed for - yes- the idea of Zionist infiltration, for being one of the evil Zionists people knew controlled the world. One time I left shule with a friend who had forgotten to take his kippah off and a group of drunks coming out of a bar physically shook us as we walked by. To get to Jewish events I walked over the literally former “Jewry” where Jews had lived in the medieval era but were expelled and which had me ember been rebuilt or returned to Jews. When I was in university the most famous fascist family in the country donated money to one of the most famous universities in the country in order to have a building named after their fascist family name and people agreed to it! In university someone gave off a long Hitler impersonation at a general event and the manager of the event refused to end it or call him out. We always always looked over our shoulders. My friends who were Israelis, who came from Iraqi and Indian and Persian Jewish families, described racial and ethnic harassment that occured to them all the time from people who saw Brown people and decided it was time for racism. Even Ashkenazi Israelis I knew were harassed for being Too middle eastern, too foreign, their language Hebrew too strange. We just lived with it all. relatively speaking this is small stuff. *minor.* it’s not like what’s happening in Gaza and it never will be. But what it was was years of accumulated pain, and the understanding that the country did not love us and was unwilling to do much but the bare minimum to let us live. And then three weeks ago the leader of that country got up and declared support for the state of Israel because of his support for the Jews. And he’s stood by that. He’s stood supporting the state of Israel as they’ve killed over seven thousand people, including thousands of children. My safety wasn’t important enough when I lived in *their* country to be much worth doing anything about, anything that might slice into the rind of how awful and alienating and antisemitic that culture was, but it’s also important enough to be worth the violent murder of thousands of children. NO ONE EVER FUCKING ASKED ME WHAT WOULD MAKE ME SAFE, BUT THEY DID DECIDE THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN NEEDED TO DIE, and they decided they needed to put my name to it. I’ve gotten to watch world leaders pull off a “the people of yisrael live” over and over again these last three years ago to justify arming a right wing dictator I never voted for in a country I never set foot on kill thousands and thousands of people. And I’ve gotten to see the hordes screaming for my death in response. Because it’s in our name and we asked for it and after all we do run everything. I’ve yet to get the feeling that western powers like Israelis all that much. The coverage really isn’t like us and uk based terror attacks. But they certainly don’t like Jews at all. No one cares about Jewish lives but they can collectively be used to justify non stop murder of a civilian population. The leader of that country I lived in will support all this forever. There’s no horror greater than that.

[books-and-catears]

Hey, Hey, Hey! It’s been a minute but I didn’t wanna spam ya with requests while you have life stuff to deal with ☺️

This is similar to my Savage!MC ask but the brothers reacting to MC snapping at them and defending Mammon before calling the brothers out whenever they go too hard on him. Let’s be real, Mammon just acts on his sin and gets punished but when Lucifer’s a prick and threatens MC; crickets.

When Beel eats everything and damn near causes everyone to starve as well as threw a tantrum and nearly injured MC over custard;everyone turns a blind eye.

Levi guilt trips and whine over the smallest things but says the worst insults to Mammon and tried to kill MC over TSL.

Asmo acts like he’s above everyone and prefers to tend to his looks than help others (such as during the castle tour) but he gets no scolding.

Belphie routinely harasses Luci with Satan (who loses his temper) AND they all either threatened/killed MC but should Mammon do anything, he’s the worst. Even though Mammon:

- Never threatened MC

- Does shit for his brothers when asked (he may joke of needing a grimm but he’s an Avatar of greed and still gets the job done)

- Is very loyal to them

- And is a good brother to take falls for them. He knows how to sacrifice for them and the slightest inconvenience gets him thrown under the bus

These guys ain’t shit and I wouldn’t wanna be around them until they learn how to treat him better and equally work on their flaws rather than rip on Mammon, who’s a whole ass victim despite being the second strongest brother who takes it because he genuinely loves his brothers yet gets shit on by them so much.

Ooh this savage MC has nothing but heart eyes for Mammon and it's adorable. Right this one is going to be angsty and it's going to sting. I'm doing this in a short story instead of a headcannon cause it just seems right that way. Hope that's okay?

It was just another one of those days Mammon tried to steal his brothers stuff and sell it again. Another day of being upside down and being laughed at. Normally he wouldn't care - it was the usual routine. But something seemed off this time.

"Mammon.. are you okay?" You approach him. He was rubbing his shoulders and arms as if to comfort the pain. He looked more tired and pained than usual.

"Ah I'm alright MC. Just the same old ya know?" He laughed. It sounded hollow yet it pierced your heart.

Enough. Enough of this. You weren't going to stand by and watch this happen again.

"You should rest." You place an arm on his shoulder and take him to his room. Making sure he's asleep, you leave. You have some problematic demons to deal with it.

"Ah MC? What brings you here? You seem rather disturbed." He asks as you storm into his study, fuming with anger.

"You tell me, you sadistic peacock." You had lost all sense of self-preservation and normalcy. Just echoing the rage in your brain.

"Excuse me?" Lucifer said, half-amused, half-shocked.

"Either you stop treating Mammon this way or I will make your life hell." You grit your teeth.

"I already have my brothers doing that what more will you do MC? Besides Mammon had it coming. He went stealing Levi's and Asmo's things again." Lucifer said nonchalantly.

"What do expect from the Avatar of Greed? He's just acting how he's cursed to. Just like the rest of you, nicompoops. Stop listening through the door and come inside." You said loudly.

The other brothers were still in the corridor nearby overhearing the whole thing. You could hear them gasp loudly at your boldness and scutter inside one by one.

"Now let me elaborate, so you rotten cucumbers understand me clearly." You cleared your throat.

Leviathan

"This little snake in tried to kill me because I may have known a little bit more about his favourite anime than him. Where's his punishment?" You point at Levi.

"MC I'm sorry...I couldn't help it was too new to me." Levi started. "But Mammon keeps stealing my things how is that fair-"

"And you keep throwing us into new kinds of disasters with your game hoarding problem."

"If you're still mad about the TSL incident I swear I take it all back-"

"Shut up snake, we know the reason. You're the Avatar of Envy. Getting jealous is your whole point. So you didn't get punished. Moving on..." Your finger now points to Satan. "This wild cat."

Satan

"He also threatened me cause I didn't want to make a pact with him. And when he actually flies off his handle, he wrecks his room and half the house down."

Satan seemed like he wanted to say something but he scowled and looked away.

"However I won't be too hard on him, cause he tries to keep his thing in check. And the whole reason he even has Wrath is because of Lucifer. So I get your hate towards Lucifer, but Mammon doesn't deserve any of it."

"MC you know I can't tolerate stupidity-" He grumbled.

"Oh must be hard looking in the mirror then, with all your failed pranks. And speaking of mirrors, this over- perfumed mannequin." You turn to Asmo.

Asmodeus

"How have I possibly hurt anyone MC? You know I stand for Love too right?" Asmo said, batting his pretty little eyes.

"For someone who stands for LOVE, if you can even call it that," You make a disgusted face, "You surely love making a mockery out of your elder brother and revel in his misery, you over- perfumed potato."

"But I never cause problems do I? Why must I be punished just for standing by?"

"Your high and mighty sense of worth is an illusion you live in. You dress up pretty and act social to validate yourself, trying to conceal the ugliness within. Truly you are nothing but Lust. Also you're the reason we almost got eaten by a giant snake." You shake your head. "Now speaking of eating..."

Beelzebub

"This giant food vaccum." You point to Beel. "He tried to eat me over a custard. Like excuse me? There's still plenty of food outside? And let's not forget that week we all had to eat cup ramen for a week cause he finished the whole pantry."

Beel softly muttered and apology and looked down.

"He even ate the walls and pillars once! Surely those renovations cost way more than however much Mammon steals? Where's his punishment?!"

"MC enough. He's sorry already." Beel's twin spoke up. You glared at him and smiled. "Don't worry I saved the best for last."

Belphegor

"This lazy murderous cow." You walk up to him slowly. "Not only does everyone have to your chores - you love causing chaos."

Belphie laughed, "That I do. But that's only with Lucifer. What else did I do?"

"Oh you want me to go there? I surely will." You say with a sting in your eye. "In your plan to avenge your sister, you killed what was left of her in the first timeline. And your brothers just stood by and watched. Where's your penance, you murder hornet?"

Belphie's eyes grew wide. Everyone looked shocked and uncomfortable. You never brought this up before now.

"But why bother asking you about it. I should be asking the ultimate punisher of this family." You turn to Lucifer.

Lucifer

"Ah! If it isn't Diavolo's pet dog! How is your master today? Does he treat you the way you treat Mammon? Is that why you come here to take your revenge on your little brother instead? Tell me Lucifer does Diavolo punish you then?"

"MC, I understand you maybe upset but you are crossing a line here." Lucifer stood up with a gutteral growl.

"Sit doggie. I didn't ask for you yet." You commanded. Lucifer sat back down as with great force. He stared at you flummoxed.

"Did you forget about the pacts already, you pompous goat? You have threatened and tried to kill me more than anyone else in this family so congratulations! I will use my pacts way more generously now." You mock bowed in gratitude.

"You might win in a fight against him but let me tell you this..." You stared back at the others.

"Mammon is the second strongest in this family. If he wanted to - if he REALLY wanted to, all of you would be turned to dust. He is stronger than all of you - but he hides it. He supresses his powers and his anger because he loves you too much. How could he ever hurt his little brothers?" You felt tears in your eyes at this point.

"AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HIM? He's only acting on his sin! Just like the rest of you! Why must he be singled out and mocked at? I won't allow it. Never again."

"If you hurt Mammon again, I swear you will have to face me. And before you think you have a chance against me, do remember the pacts you all happily made with me I will not hesitate to use them against you dysfunctional lot-"

"MC... Stop." You felt Mammon hug you from behind.

"Mammon? I thought you were asleep." You say looking back at him. His tears were misty but his smile more full.

"And I thought I was supposed to protect ya, human! And you're out here protecting me..." Mammon trailed off and held you closer.

"We can protect each other."

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal /Betrothal AU: Take Two

So here is the second part of the betrothal AU that I decided to name "A Failed Betrothal. This takes place before Part 1 which in hindsight should have been done first. Part 2 got too long so I cut it and started Part 3. I have no idea and nothing planned on how long this will go. Hope you enjoy ❤.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)

PART 2

Marinette also wasn't having a good day or a good week.

Lila Rossi had been up to her usual tricks. You know, spewing lies from her mouth. How she met these awesome celebrities during this trip and they worship the ground she walks on for her amazing and humbling help. There were stories of these charities, trips and galas that she had been to or was invited to. She has problems with her wrists and can't do simple stuff like carry her own bag or do her homework. She has tinnitus in her ears so she needs to sit in the front where the only seat available would be next to Adrien.

And for the finale.

The desert after feeding the class a banquet of lies.

"Mari...nette..has been bullying me, she...told..me not to tell anyone..*sobs*..that she would kill me if I did.."

Lila dramatically gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Turning on the waterworks for a more dramatic effect. They all ate it up, jumping on the ‘let’s hate Marinette, a bad person’ train.

"She is going to kill me now and I am so scared." That snake managed to snuck an evil smirk past her glaring, oblivious classmates.

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

Marinette, at this point of her life, had frankly given up caring for them due to the class's lack of brain cells and Agreste's spineless 'High Road' Approach.

For Kwami's sake, she went through a brutal torture that was training in some jungle temple in Asia before Sabine Cheng, former mercenary/assassin, kidnapped her (Little Marinette took a risk. She ran away and followed her around until Sabine begrudgingly accepted that she was now the 6- year-old girl's mother because screw it, Tom said he wanted children.) to raise/train as her own while she settled down with a baker whose mother may or may not have ties with the Mafia and other illegal activities.

(Mother-daughter bonding days became much more fun once she had Guardianship of the Miraculous. Sabine was ,at first, furious at Master Fu for dumping everything on the girl and losing his memories before swearing to help protect the jewels. Adopted or not, Marinette is her daughter and no one should let a child, even one with training, fight a war. A good thing to come out of her reveal was that her mother was a great tiger to have as back-up. But now, her training regime had become harder and challenging.)

The point was that Lila Rossi would be dead and body missing since that first time she threatened Marinette in the bathroom. The Italian was in perfect health despite what she claims otherwise, because Marinette didn’t want to be the person she was raised to be and also she didn’t want to disappoint Tikki, she was fond of the little red kwami. But sometimes, she just wanted to give into the urge to kill.

She had met and dealt with unsavory characters of all types and she can safely say that Lila Rossi was a manipulator that thrives on attention and like a parasite, latches herself onto the fame of others. None of the unsavory people she had met get under her skin like Rossi had.

Marinette had enough self-preservation to drop the nice girl act and sometimes let the dragon underneath to surface. She stopped doing last-minute favors and giving away free stuff which Lila uses to her full advantage to further destroy her relationships with her ‘friends’. It was better than sticking her neck out for classmates that were no longer worth her time. Attempts to expose Lila had backfired due to the denial they are in, believing the liar to be a sweet, nice girl living the high life.

Adrien with his rose-tinted glasses firmly stuck to his eyes was not happy at all with her decision. That may also have to do where she suggested he shove his advice after he tried to reason her to take the high road for defending herself for the umpteenth time. She felt like the biggest idiot to ever have a crush on him. Every time, Rossi blames Marinette for a problem, he would shoot disappointed looks in her direction.

Alya being Lila's biggest guard dog tore into Marinette for her newfound 'bad' behaviour. The rest of Lila's supporters backed her up with "How could you do that to Lila","I can't believe you changed." Nearly all her so-call friends had turned their backs and lost all common sense to the Italian's manipulations.

(Alya was supposed to be her best friend, aren’t you supposed to listen to your ‘bestie’ over a complete stranger)

The designer took it all with a bored expression on her face, used to the lecturing which was a waste of time because her behavior isn't going to change, no matter what, Lie-la will keep up the act of being the bully's (*cough*Marinette*cough*) victim.

Her heart that cracks the tiniest bit at the accusations. A small part of her, she admits, is hurt that they think so low of her.Was she really that worthless to them? All those times and efforts helping them out on last-minute favors and giving them free treats. Were they not enough to earn their friendship? Their trust or at the very least, a benefit of doubt?

The only ones who didn’t join the berating to 'correct' the raven-haired girl’s attitude were Chloe (who had proven herself to have changed after the miracle queen incident and Lila stole the spotlight and Sabrina. There were a lot of apologizes, gifts and ‘making up to do’) Alix (she came to her senses when the supposed bullying started) and Nathaniel (Lila blatantly claimed to be the artist for the Ladybug comic to his face).

“Girl, Marinette, are you even listening to me?”Alya demanded.

“Maybe. Did you say anything that doesn’t have to do with Lila or how I did her wrong or how I am no longer the person you knew?”

Marinette knew that being sarcastic would backfire but nothing she does or says will change what they think of her. One word from Lila and they will turn back on her. As much as she hates to admit it, Lila’s threat has fallen through and she was alone. Mostly.

She still had Chloe, Nathaniel, Alix, Luka and Kagami as friends. The trust-worthy and loyal kind.

“Girl,” Alya says in a disappointed tone, shaking her head,“when I look at you, I don’t see that girl who stood up to Chloe the bully-”, Chloe snorted, she had changed but they were too blind and prejudiced against her to notice her efforts, “-Picking on Lila, threatening and harassing her. This isn’t you and you know it. Just get over your jealousy on Lila being close to Adrien and apologize to her.”

If Alya had talked to her in the past 12 months other than demanding things that took away her time or anything relating to Lila, she would know that her infatuation had turned into annoyance.

Marinette sighed, too tired of this routine, tired of trying to knock heads so the brain cells can work again. Apologizing would mean that Lila had won. She was petty and stubborn enough to allow that to happen. Lila said she will take the class and Adrien. Fine, she can have them but Marinette Dupain-Cheng will not admit defeat. Bigger men had fallen to the ravenette for lesser offences. A year has passed since the expulsion and the class still hasn't regained common senses, so they can deal with the consequences after the inevitable downfall of Lila and Marinette will be there to see them lay in the grave they dug.

Steeling herself for the pain that will come with the execution of her plan,

“What if I don’t. I won’t apologize to her because I have not done anything to her or even interacted with her. If I apologize, it would be insincere and a lie. And I hate liars.” The former assassin said evenly.

“Lila is not a liar. I don’t know why you are like this.” Alya said, frustrated.

Marinette knew there would be a small chance of an akuma with Gabriel Agreste having an important meeting to attend on this day that would last for the next hour. This was the small window of opportunity to start the plan and also further confirm the identity of Hawkmoth. Killing two birds with one stone.

“Alya, this has always been me, you just never took the time to get to really know the real me.”, she replied, the last part with an icy tone.

“Well-... I- ..You-, fine, then if you can’t say those simple three words, we can’t be friends. I clearly don’t know what a selfish bitch you are. God, I can’t believe I wanted to be best friends with you. You are now replaced by Lila because unlike you, she is genuinely nice and selfless.” Alya declared. The rest of Lila’s supporters murmured in agreement.

Phase 1, complete. Lure the Lie-la into a false sense of security by making her think she won.

Marinette tried not to show how hurt she was, to be replaced by the scheming bitch. But at the same time she felt relieved, she no longer had to walk on eggshells in fear of losing the friendships of people she used to care about. It felt final as she maintained her stoic expression, hoping they didn't notice the glassy sheen her eyes had.

“Then, it is official. We are no longer friends.”

They haven’t been friends for a long time.

Mme. Bustier finally walked into the classroom to start the afternoon classes, signalling the end of the conversation. After class, Marinette resolves to inform them that she was resigning as class president which she was sure the class will be glad for. She was right.

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

Ladybug was, as the Americans say, pissed at Hawkmoth which was nothing new. He had sent out another akuma just as Marinette was back home and trying to relax after the stressful day. The akuma was not any of her ex-friends which she wasn’t sure to be thankful for or not.

Louise Martin was a boy about Luka’s age and mad at his friends who had blamed their fifth loss-in-a-row on him despite the fact that it was his skills that were getting them any progress. They were playing one of those recently released 5V5 skills and strategy battle games. (League of Legends or Mobile Legends. Take your pick, I am going with the latter)

He was akumatized into Hayakuma as proof of Hawkmoth’s lack of creativity. Hayakuma was a bleached out version of Louise’s chosen hero avatar, Hayabusa whose outfit was basically what the media portrays ninjas to look like with some samurai aspects.

Unfortunately, he also had the hero’s ultimate special powers which were making four shadow copies of himself and being able to switch positions with them. Thanks to Rattlesnake’s Second Chance, they know that he can only make a switch once every two minute. Hayakuma also wields a sword, showing off his skills.

Just lovely.

Hydra and Ladybug were the only ones able to counter his attacks with Hydra’s sword and Ladybug’s summoned one. (Let’s go with that headcanon(?)/trope that she can summon weapons for plot convenience and the others can too but just don’t have enough practise yet.)

The others managed to dodge and shield themselves from Hayakuma’s really sharp sword.

The shadows themselves were annoying as they would distract or hinder the miraculous users by grabbing them by their shadows and making them unable to move. Until Bunnix had the brilliant idea of shadow boxing which gave the heroes gain more even ground.

With how strong and handful the akuma was, it was code ‘all hands on deck’. Ladybug, Stinger, Rattlesnake, Hydra, Bunnix, Trickster. Well, nearly every hand. Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was busy with the bakery. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen or very late which had been the norm for the last year ever since Ladybug wanted to form a new miraculous team consisting of permanent heroes.

(He didn’t show up for the first few months because the first permanent member was Ladybug’s mother who did not like his attitude towards her daughter. He ran away with his tail between his legs once he found out how she was related to Ladybug. His face when he realized it, was something Marinette will cherish forever)

At least when Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was around, he would not dare act out of line. When she is gone however, he is back to his old ways.

After saving one of Louise’s teammates from Hayakuma’s sword, they gathered the rest of the team and hid them someplace safe. Using Trickster’s illusions to trick all the shadows and the original to one place, the heroes were going to surround and ambush them and get the akumatized item. The plan would have been a success if it weren’t for Chat Noir hugging Ladybug from behind, making her miss her cue.

“Hey~ Bugaboo~ Did you miss me~? Your Chaton~?”

Thwack! Smack!

Chat Noir was on the rooftop, groaning pitifully in pain. Especially his crotch area. Ladybug glared at him and looked to the ambush point to see the illusions had disappeared and everyone else gone from their hiding place.

She sighed and turned on the comms, (Thank you, kwamis)

“Sting, did you venomed the akuma?”

“No, he escaped before I could. What happened, LB?”

“A certain cat got me delayed. What’s the status update?”

“Hydra is holding him off and Bunnix found that an umbrella is a good substitute for a sword. The rest of us are keeping track of the shadows. They split up but none of them are getting near where we hid the targets.”

“Where are you? I will meet you later with back-up.”

“Near Notre Dame and tell Mama Tigress I said hi.”

“Tell her yourself.”

She looked down at Chat No-, no he is not worthy of being a hero anymore with the amount of times he had derailed and hijacked the plans to defeat the akumas just so he can ‘earn’ Ladybug’s heart.

She looked down at Adrien Agreste, who was sitting and sulking like a child that was unfairly punished. (Once she got over her crush and started looking at the right things that she managed to piece together her ‘partner’s’ identity by accident. Tikki’s confirmation sealed the deal.)

“Chat Noir, this partnership of ours,” she said, gesturing to the two of them, “ is going to change tonight. Meet me at the ‘spot’ at 11 sharp. Now, go home.”

He left with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes at her words. She felt a little bad about the subtle manipulation but with the way things were now, it can’t go on. He was hindering more than helping and the people of Paris that weren’t shipping ‘Ladynoir’ saw that.

As she jumped towards Notre Dame, she called the bakery with her yoyo.

“Mama, are you free now? I need a little help with the akuma and can you bring the horse miraculous.”

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

Chat Noir waited excitedly at what they both dubbed at their ‘spot’, in the good old days when it was just the two of them. Maybe Ladybug was finally open to the idea of dating. Or maybe she must have seen what a great hero he is and was going to get rid of the team. Or realized that having her mother on her team was a bad idea. Parents are the worst and they both can be two rebellious teenagers in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. So romantic~.

He was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t hear his lady land.

“Chat Noir.” Startled, he nearly fell off the roof. No, don’t make a fool of yourself in front of Ladybug.

“Yes, Bugaboo.” Hoping she didn’t know that he was very distracted. His attention will always be hers 100%.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo. Tikki wants to talk to Plagg about Kwami stuff. So you go over and hide behind that chimney. Then, we can talk about why I told you to be here.” Adrien frowned and then smiled. His lady must be very embarrassed about her mistake that must be why she is taking her time. He tried listening to what they were saying but the kwamis were talking in their special Guardian Language. Was it him or did Tikki’s voice sound more like his lady’s voice?

Whizz!

Adrien was tied up with Ladybug’s yoyo. “M’Lady? Bugaboo!? LADYBUG! WHAT IS GOING ON?!! PLAGG-”

Ladybug cut in, “Adrien Agreste, you have been slack in your hero duty and choosing your own feelings over supporting your partner, me, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous and current Grand Guardian, in the efforts to defeat the enemy of Paris, Hawkmoth. Due to those reasons, you are no longer worthy to be the Holder of the Black Cat Miraculous” in one swift motion, she took the ring off his finger, “As such you are hereby revoked of Plagg’s Ring.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I LOVE YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME BACK. WE ARE SOULMATES, WE ARE MEANT TO BE-”

Adrien went slack at Lady Tigress’s pinch on his pressure point.

“I don’t what you ever saw in the boy.”

“I don’t know either. I think I dodged a bullet here. Can you carry him back to his home? I think I have dealt with enough of him tonight.” Ladybug muttered, as she erased Adrien’s memories of being Chat Noir.

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

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe.

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

(Part 3)

[shigarakis-cumdump]

Needy Mission

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary:  You were siked to hear that your new mission was to hunt down the League of Villains. Maybe Shigaraki would want your date to be early that day? You haven't seen your boyfriend in a minute, anyways.

Cw: dubcon, exhibitionism 

Word Count: 1.7k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

There was an important mission you were grouped up to do with your coworkers: find and hunt down the LOV. It wasn’t easy, of course, but as a pro, you had to take on tasks like this. You and a few other pros left the commission earlier and split up to find their hideout. You aimlessly walked around town, pretending as if you were looking for this place that you had actually gone to every other night for the last 5 months. If word got out that you were dating the leader of the League of Villains, you would be locked away for sure. You forget how you got so infatuated with Shigaraki. The USJ attack was probably it. His recklessness just to get what he wanted; he was a lot like you, and you liked that. When you “captured him” during that fight, you told him to pull something to be able to get away- that you wanted to save him. He didn’t really understand, but the second he knew you were being honest, he fell in love. After that day, he stalked you for a bit. It would be weird if you started to randomly mention him during meetings and such, so you waited for Shigaraki to come to you.

“Someone miss me already~?” you hear from behind a building. Your face lights up and you hurry back to not be seen.

“We’re actually trying to find you guys today. I’ll lead them in the other direction, don’t worry. No one’s taking you or your league today, my love~” you kiss him on the cheek when he slaps your ass.

“There’s my obedient girl. Can’t get enough of this villain cock, huh? You might even lose your job if they find out. But my stupid bitch couldn’t care less..” he chuckles. You smile and nod, happy to please him. He gropes your ass, pulling you in tighter to smell your freshly washed hair. You used his favorite scented shampoo, in hopes you’d see him today. He trailed small bite marks from your ears to your neck, leaving some visible ones.

“Shiggy, you can’t make them noticeable..I’m supposed to be working right now, it’s not professional..” you lecture him. Shigaraki sighs and grabs your chin with his hand.

“Since when has any of this been professional? I’ve harassed your coworkers and students, yet you still seem to love me. Maybe I should fuck you right here so everyone can hear and see how much you love being my “heroic” little cock sleeve.” he said, crimson eyes staring into your soul. You hated when he used the word ‘heroic’ in a condescending tone like that. It made you feel like your line of work was for nothing. You took a deep breath and averted his gaze, whispering a small sorry. “What was that, slut? Might have to speak up, I don’t think anyone could hear you,” he lifts your chin up harsh-fully.

“Sorry, Shigaraki!” you shout, afraid you were too loud.

“Good girl, let them hear you submit to me..” he said, shoving you down to your knees. You watched him as he quickly pulled his pants down and let his cock out free. He tapped your cheek with it, and you opened your mouth like he trained you. He shoved his cock down your throat, immediately making you gag around his large member. He grabbed the back of your head and forced himself further down your throat. He throatfucked you for what seemed like forever, only letting you breathe every minute or so. Drool, sweat, and tears coated your face.

“Let’s paint that pretty face of yours, huh? Then I’ll ruin your pussy so you can barely walk the rest of the day~” he groans, taking his dick out of your mouth before releasing all over your pretty face. You scrunch your eyes shut as you feel his hot load trail down your face, getting caught in your eyelashes. You hear a phone camera shutter, and the flash turns your eyelids red. “Such a filthy girl, really,” he scoffs, and you wipe the cum from your eyes to look up to him. Your glossed over eyes shine up at him and he caresses your face. “Get up.” he tells you. You swiftly stand on your feet. Shigaraki throws you around like a ragdoll, turning you over so your ass is up in the air. He slaps it harshly a few times, loving the pathetic whimpers you let out. He lines his cock up to your wet hole, and without warning starts fucking into you mercilessly.

“Shigaraki- please! Someone will come back- ah! Here!!” you cry out, trying to cover your own mouth to muffle yourself.

“I thought you wanted everyone to see you look like a slut for your master?” he bucks his hips into your ass, rough enough to leave bruises.

“Master, please!! It’s too much!!” you whine. He shows no signs of stopping before he cums inside of your tight cunt, not soon after his first on your face. Anyone could walk behind the building to see this wanted villain fucking the pro hero who’s supposed to catch him. It could ruin your career- it could ruin your whole life. So why were you getting wet to the thought of someone finding you bent over like this? Shigaraki could feel your spongy walls clamping down around him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

“Calm down, baby, I’m not going anywhere~” Shigaraki chuckles. You hear a group of people walking close to the alley and you try to pry Shigaraki’s hands off of your waist. His grip only tightens, and to make it worse (or better) he slams into you, another involuntary shriek coming out of you.

“What was that?”

“Not sure, but hero’s are lining the streets, someone will help her.”

“Hear that? No one cares about you getting fucked by the most dangerous villain; but I’m sure my slut wouldn’t care..” he said, slapping your ass. You mewl out, feeling your release coming.

“Shiggy, I can’t!! Fuck I’m gunna cum..!”

“No you’re not,” Shigaraki never slows down his pace, but he grabs the small radio you have stationed in your pocket and says, “I think I found one of your little friends, she’s a real cute one; It’d be a shame if anything happened to her~” you hear your coworkers from the other end call your name and ask if you’re okay, but if you open your mouth, something other than words will come out. Shigaraki drops the radio and pounds into you a few more times before you feel his cum filling your dripping cunt once again. He quickly pulls out and starts to walk off, leaving you exposed and needy in the alley.

“Good luck explaining this one to them, honey~ see you soon..” he finishes before a warp gate appears for him.

Your coworkers rush into the alley to see your tear and cum soaked face, speechless. God, you loved Shigaraki’s games.

[chiliiscereal]

Well my standards have really lowered when I comes to writing fanfiction a XD

First I didn’t want to write any at all, then I didn’t want to write for any cartoons, then I didn’t want to write for cartoon turtles... and here i am.

Here I am starting a x reader fanfiction... with the 2014/2016 version of Raph

Still a bit uncomfortable with this but I had an idea so here we go! If I like it then I’ll keep going :p

Lol what am I doing with my life XD

Too tall

Raph x tall! Fem! Reader

Summary: yes this is me self projecting. Reader is 6 foot 4 inches tall and literally every boy she meets is too insecure to date her when she’s that tall. After a while of being treated like she unbreakable and a giant she gets tired of it. Luckily there’s someone else out there who understands how she feels.

———-

You tapped the cafe table impatiently, trying not to watch your friend and her boyfriend across from you. You attempted to look at the door instead. Maybe if you stared at it long enough then your date would show up.

“It’s okay! I’m sure he’ll show up.” She tried to console you as her boyfriend held her tiny little hand.

Perfect.

Small.

You looked at your own clenched hands and wished that yours could fit so perfectly in someone else’s hands. But, sadly, big hands come with height.

No boy your age ever came close to you.

It’s not that you minded.

It’s that they did.

You didn’t care that practically every boy you met barely went up to your shoulder. You wanted companionship. You didn’t need them to be a hulking giant. You needed someone who loved you.

This wasn’t Tall Girl for goodness sake.

You weren’t waiting around for some tall man to show up.

Unfortunately no guy was willing to step up to the plate.

Why might you ask?

Insecurity of course.

The last three guys that turned you down all said they weren’t comfortable with being shorter than their girlfriend. Others said they weren’t looking for a girlfriend.

Funnily enough they all ended up with girlfriends maybe a week later.

The other girls were incredibly tiny. They barely even made it to the boys shoulders. If that.

But you thought maybe this boy would be different.

He seemed like he was.

He seemed interested at least.

He SEEMED like he was excited when you asked him on a double date with your best friend and her boyfriend.

But an hour passed already and he wasn’t there.

You sat up with a bit of a huff. “It’s fine. Let’s just... let’s just enjoy dinner.”

Your friend frowned at you but decided to let it drop. She knew you hated whenever anything like this was addressed so she bit her tongue and changed the subject.

You couldn’t enjoy dinner or pay attention to anything brought up.

Oh you tried.

You gave it the old college try.

But you found your mind wandering back to the lost date way to often.

After another thirty minutes you stood up. “You know what? I’m kind of tired and I still have some homework to finish up. You two enjoy your date!” You grabbed your bag and walked out before your friend could even call you back.

You just needed some time to yourself.

Time to think.

You walked down the sidewalk slowly, half heartedly wishing that the boy would call you and give an amazing reason as to why he was two hours late.

You stopped yourself from reaching for your phone to check for a text.

No it was his loss.

Not yours.

Surely there was someone out there for you... waiting for you to come along.

Someone that wouldn’t care if you were a little taller than them.

You huffed and zipped your bag shut. Whoever they were, they definitely weren’t that boy.

“Hey girl, who you all dressed up for?” Came a voice from the alley you were about to pass.

“No time to talk.” You answered quickly and continued walking.

You weren’t about to give them the time of day. There was a tub of ice cream and a sappy romance movie waiting for you back at your apartment.

“Come on, a girl like you with legs like that? Surely you’re dressed up for somebody.” The man stepped out of the alleyway and leaned against the brick wall. “I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s me.”

Oh you wanted to turn him around and hit him with your bag.

But it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Hell no.” You stated curtly and walked by him briskly.

He snatched your wrist, effectively making your skin crawl. “Look at me when I’m talking to ya.”

He pulled you into the alley before you could stop him.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” You growled and tried to rip yourself away. “HELL. NO.”

“Come on, baby! Give me a chance-!” He attempted you sweet talk before he was interrupted.

You caught his hand before he could grab you anywhere inappropriate. “I have had a REALLY terrible day. I am a MINOR and if you don’t get lost RIGHT NOW then you’re gonna have some serious problems.”

He was close enough that you could smell the bitter alcohol on his breath.

He was probably a head shorter than you and had no idea what he was getting into.

“I don’t care if you’re a minor-.” He started.

Your fist smashing into his nose stopped his words.

“Like I said!” You growled as you shook the pain out of your knuckles, “I have had a really really REALLY bad day. And YOU are some little gnat just buzzing in my FACE!”

He gripped his nose with a cry, blood dripping down it like a waterfall. “YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“YOU PULLED ME INTO AN ALLEY AND TRIED TO TOUCH ME!” You shouted back, hitting him with your purse before he could charge at you. “YOU MADE THIS CHOICE AFTER I WARNED YOU!”

It felt good to take your rage out on somebody. And it was justified to! It wasn’t like you were just beating this man. He wasn’t letting you leave! He kept grabbing you before you could go.

————-

Turtles pov

They crouched above the alleyway, watching the man pull you into the alleyway.

“We gotta get involved man.” The red masked one whispered. “This doesn’t look to good.”

“I told you, we only get involved if it gets really bad.” The blue one responded with an eye roll. “We can’t risk being seen!”

“It already looks really bad!”

“If she gets anymore hurt then we jump in!”

The orange masked turtle jumped into the conversation. “I don’t know, I think my money’s on the girl.”

“Mikey shut up!” The purple masked brother whispered. “This is serious!”

“So am I! Look at her! She isn’t even scared!”

“I think she at least looks a little scared.”

“Probably cause she’s trying to keep herself from beating the shit out of him!”

Raph rolled his eyes and shoved his younger brother. “It’s our job to do the protectin’ round here. Shut up and- HOLY SHIT!”

The all gasped as you reeled your hand back and knocked your fist into the creeps nose.

“Damn that looked like it hurt.” Leo observed. “Maybe she doesn’t need our help.”

“I say we stay here in case it goes south.” Raph argued, waiting for Leo to argue with him.

“Fine, but we leave when it looks like she’s safe.” Leo nodded and looked back to the fight.

Raph didn’t have time to feel proud that he’d been listened to. Mikey was inching closer to watch. “What the hell are ya doin’?” He reached forward to pull him back. “She’s gonna see ya!”

Mikey leaned over the edge anyway. “Look at her go! I told you he didn’t stand a chance!”

“Who knew using a purse was so effective?” Leo nodded. “Think she’s got it?”

“Looks like it to me!” Mikey laughed and watched with glee. “This is real entertainment.”

“Mikey you’re too close to the edge!” Raph tried to grab him but was shoved away. “You’re gonna fall-!”

————

With that you shoved the man into the wall. “Are you FINALLY done? Have you FINALLY learned your lesson?”

He spit out the blood from his mouth and nodded. “Fine! Please just leave me alone!”

“Good choice!” You shoved him away from you. “Go before I change my mind!”

He was gone before you could even blink.

“That’s right! Get out of here!” You shouted to him as he scurried away.

You lifted your chin triumphantly.

Maybe you hadn’t gotten that date but you sure did beat the crap out of a creep.

You dusted your hands off and snatched your purse off the ground.

“If I catch you harassing anyone else you’ll get it twice as bad!”

No answer of course.

He was long gone.

Still, it felt good to shout.

You could finally go home.

You turned back to the edge of the alleyway with a sigh of relief.

You took one step forward.

Then, the least expected thing happened.

“OH SHIT!”

Next thing you knew you were on the ground after something very large crashed into you.

“What the hell!” You sat up and rubbed your head. “Who just sits on a roof above an alleyway?!”

You grabbed your purse quickly and stood up, ready for another fight.

It wasn’t another creep.

And from the looks of it... it wasn’t even human.

Well, THEY weren’t even human.

You didn’t know what they were.

Green...

Huge...

And shells...

The finally looked at you.

Why were they wearing masks?

What even were they?

Why were they there!?

The one in orange immediately scurried behind the one in red. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit!”

The one in red looked at you and then looked at the guy behind him. “You dragged me into this! You fix it!”

He pulled him forward.

Honestly you had no idea what to think.

There were two GIANT turtles right in front of you! And they were talking!

You gripped your purse a little tighter, waiting to see what they would do.

The one directly in front of you tried to speak only to look back at the red masked one and then back up at where they had fallen.

You looked from him to where he was looking quickly. “Are there more of you?”

He gulped quickly and attempted to hide behind the bigger turtle. “Uh... yeah?”

You took a small step to the exit. “Are you... are you gonna try to take my purse or something?”

The red one glared at you. “No! We’re just.. just here to protect the city. We ain’t monsters!”

You noticed him getting defensive immediately and nodded. “...okay then. Well, if you’re not going to rob me then I’m going to pretend I saw nothing and go on my way.”

The red one frowned.

You were acting waaaaaaay too casual.

Surely there had to be some other motive.

“Hold on a minute... you ain’t goin’ anywhere yet.”

You glared at him and held out your purse. “Are you gonna stop me?”

Mikey took a step back and Raph rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think a purse is gonna do much against someone like me.” He stated.

“I don’t even know who you are.” You stepped back again and tightened your grip. “I didn’t even know people like you existed until now.”

You looked them up and down, taking them all in.

This couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t be.

“You say anything bout this and you’re dead, got it?” He pointed around you as if aggression could make you quiet.

“Can you at least let me go home and finish my ice cream before you decide to kill me?” You backed up again.

You were so close to running away.

So close to escape.

Before you could back up any further, two more creatures dropped from the sky behind you.

You jumped and scrambled away, nearly running into the red masked turtle.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the way my brother phrased everything.” The new turtle glared at his companion. “What he meant to say is that we protect the city. We were watching that man just in case he tried anything and these two,” he glared at the first two again, “fell off the roof.”

The one next to him pushed up his glasses. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from fear yet. The first person we met did just that!”

Your back hit the wall and you had no where else to go. “I’m not too sure if I won’t do that.” You glanced between the four of them. “What even are you guys?”

“Turtles!” The orange one spoke up before the red one could shush him.

“Mutants as well.” The purple one joined.

“And ninjas.”

“And teenagers.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Mutant turtle teen ninjas? I think you need to rebrand that.”

Maybe you were insane.

Here you were cracking jokes with large turtles at dinner time.

But so far they were harmless, despite their stature. According to the blue one they protect New York.

“Ya got a problem with it?” The red one grew even more tense.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Just... surprised.”

“And scared?” He added. “Scared of monsters like us?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you just said you weren’t monsters.”

That seemed to stop him.

So you continued with a deep breath. “You’re all just... really huge. I thought I was tall but standing next to you...” you swallowed and tried not to let your nerves get to you. You turned to the blue one since he seemed to be the leader. “...can I go now? I won’t tell anyone you exist or... whatever it is you want.”

The blue one was skeptical but the purple one butted in.

“Do you have a way home? Like a friend you can call?”

You opened your purse. “Yeah I should be able to call an Uber with my...” you pulled out the broken device. “...my phone.”

Well crap.

You stuffed it back in quickly. “It’s okay I’ll just walk-!”

“I can fix it.” He offered. “Besides it’ll be an extra security measure for us if we have your contact information.” He gestured loosely to the hand you’d punched the creep with. “We could also bandage up those cuts.”

You brought up your hand and inspected the blood with surprise.

Well... when were you gonna get another opportunity like this? It’s not everyday a girl gets invited into the homes of local mutants.

Besides you really didn’t want to walk home with your phone destroyed.

The red one looked at the purple one angrily. “You wanna being ‘er back??”

“Our job is to help people, Raph.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m with Donnie. It’s only fair since we broke her phone.” The blue one nodded.

“Well if it’s not too much trouble...”

—————

Next thing you know you were whisked away to none other than the sewers.

Well that kind of made sense.

No one would ever really want to go down there anyway.

The purple one, whose name you learned was Donnie, had your phone in his three fingers the moment you stepped foot in their home.

“I’ll do a little fixing up, maybe an upgrade, and Raph can take a look at your hands.” He muttered as he started to disappear into a lab like room.

Raph...

He was the red angry one wasn’t he.

The tallest and biggest out of them all.

He didn’t seem too happy about it either.

“Why me?” He protested. “What ‘bout Leo? Or-or Master Splinter? Heck, even Mikey!” He gestured to his orange masked brother as if to showcase how he’d be better at it.

You couldn’t help but silently agree with him.

Mikey seemed the most open on the way here. He’d talked your ear off the whole trip, asking questions about what it was like to be a human and bragging about all the people he’d saved. He’d even wanted you to play a video game with you when you got to their home. He’d been a bit overbearing but that was better than Mr. miffed muscle mountain.

“Hey you’ve broken the skin on your knuckles before. You’ve got experience in it. Just fix her hand and be done.” With that, Donnie was gone.

You shared an awkward moment of eye contact with Raph before he sighed.

“Well, I’m gonna go play my game.” Mikey dashed over to the tv. “Let me know when you two are done and we can play!” He grabbed Leo by the back of his shell and pulled him along.

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously.

It was just you two.

You and the giant turtle boy beside you.

“Aight well...” he cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll take you up to the work out room then?”

He stopped and you realized he was waiting for you to say something. You quickly tried to scrounge up a comprehensible sentence.

“Y-yeah, sounds good with me.” You followed after him quietly, holding your hand so the blood wouldn’t drip everywhere.

The room was smaller than you imagined but still... it was huge to you.

He began rummaging through a box on the table, fumbling with objects. “You can uh... you can sit down while I grab the-the stuff.” He told you quickly.

You didn’t know where to sit so you interpreted his words to mean that you should sit on the work out bench.

You watched patiently as he found the roll of gauze.

Clearly he was just as nervous as you.

You didn’t know why HE was nervous though. He was a giant turtle for goodness sake. He could snap you in half easily.

“Here lemme see that hand.” He shuffled over and reached out.

You gave your right one to him, trying to hold in your nervous shaking.

“Ain’t gonna bite ya.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know.” You commented, watching him start applying disinfectant. “Just never been in a situation like this before.”

He snorted and continued his work.

You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his. Ha. That was new. Usually it was you watching little pick me girls compare their hand size to their crushes. How strange it was for it to be you.

“And I thought I had big hands.” You couldn’t help but blurt out.

He kept his eyes on your hand, examining it a little more. “Ya call this big?”

“Yep.” You glanced around the room, taking in the ‘scenery’.

He snorted. “Damn tiny to me.” He pulled out the gauze and began wrapping your knuckles. “Look, I’m uh... I’m sorry ‘bout the way I handled earlier. My dumbnut brother got us exposed when ya clearly had the situation handled.”

You cringed, remembering that they’d seen you beating the creep. “Yeah I could have handled that better as well.”

He paused for a half second, as if considering his next words, and then continued. “Heard ya say you were havin’ a shit day as well.”

You weren’t exactly sure if you wanted this brought up in the middle of the weirdest experience ever but you were desperate for a smooth conversation. “Yeah, some jackass stood me up.”

He frowned and momentarily made confused eye contact with you. “Stood ya up?”

“You know, as in he said he was gonna go on a date with me and just didn’t show up.” You forced out a laugh. “But it’s fine I got ice cream at home.”

“Mmm.” He muttered. “Sounds like a douche bag.”

Well outta room! Part two will be up I had too much fun :)

[volleychumps]

Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!

S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama 

Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes

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

Kuroo

“Kitten, I’m waiting~” 

“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.” 

“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”

“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment. 

“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?” 

“In your car?” 

“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.” 

You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient. 

“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-” 

“It’s nOT A-” 

You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure. 

Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you. 

The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket. 

“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?” 

Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately- 

“You bitch!” 

but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back- 

And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving. 

Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly. 

“Kuroo, let’s go.” 

“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.” 

“Tetsurou.” 

Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away. 

“Look at me listening to you, princess.” 

Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy. 

“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?” 

You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.

“Tight enough, apparently.” 

“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?” 

“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.” 

And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.  

Even if it wasn’t an appointment. 

Bokuto

“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!” 

“Do you pinky promise?” 

“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.” 

“That’s 6.9% too much.” 

“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand. 

“You win this one!” 

“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head. 

Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage. 

“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?” 

“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch. 

“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.” 

You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy. 

“I’m actually waiting for somebody-” 

“I don’t see them, though?” 

Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until- 

“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?” 

“Feisty.” 

“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise. 

The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form. 

“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-” 

A tap on the shoulder. 

“Do you know what else can be arranged?” 

“Who the hell-” 

He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken. 

“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question. 

“Take a fucking guess.” 

You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave. 

“Just one more punch-” 

“Trust me, that was plenty.” 

It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes. 

“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down. 

“Right. So maybe not 7%-” 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, Bo?” 

“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off. 

“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?” 

You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question- 

“Car sex?” 

Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%. 

“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!” 

“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.” 

Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade- 

being replaced with something much more important. 

Kageyama 

“...you sure you’re okay?” 

“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands. 

Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones. 

The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match. 

He had a little bit of a clue what that could be. 

The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today. 

What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that. 

Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up. 

“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?” 

“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.” 

“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner. 

But you weren’t. 

Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance. 

“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-” 

“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?” 

Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again. 

“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.” 

“Come on, play nice~” 

You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does. 

Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground. 

“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash- 

“Oh, before you take him-” 

You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist. 

“Alright. You can take him now.” 

Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.

“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?” 

“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh. 

“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?” 

You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions. 

“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!” 

“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body. 

“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.” 

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046

[drabbles-mc]

Could you do a HC on how the Mayans men would react to a girl getting hit on at a bar and the guy not taking no for an answer, like they don't know her or anything. I feel like they all respect women enough to at least do something about it; ya know?

All of the Mayans men wake up every day and drink a full pitcher of Respect Women Juice. They will not tolerate disrespect in their house. HC’s under the cut!

(I couldn’t decide if i wanted to do third person or reader insert for these but I settled on reader insert. Hopefully it works alright)

Bishop:

-Senses the tension immediately 

-My man sits back and watches the entire clubhouse all night. He knows everything that’s going on. And when he notices that some guy is refusing to leave you alone, he instantly gets up and goes to intervene.

-He’s not hot-headed about it. He doesn’t have the time or the energy for that anymore. But he places himself between the two of you, looking back and forth, “Everything alright here?”

-The guy would try to brush it off and reassure him that yea, of course everything is okay you can leave now. But Bishop wouldn’t have any of that. He’d cut him off mid-sentence, “I wasn’t fucking asking you.”

-He’d turn to you and ask again if you’re alright. You’d give a slight shake of her head no, not wanting to stir up drama but also not wanting to deal with this dude anymore. And that’s all it would take.

-”I think you should leave,” he wouldn’t yell. Just state it as a fact. But when the guy would try to argue that’s when he would get a little more heated. He’d step in closer to the dude’s face, but not putting hands on him, “I said you should fucking leave.”

-Bishop only uses yelling and brute force as a last resort. Very rarely does it ever come to that. He would follow the guy all the way to the clubhouse door, making sure that he actually leaves before going back to check on the poor girl that he was harassing. He 100% lingers close for the rest of the night to make sure no one bothers you.

Angel:

-King of being the Fake Boyfriend.

-My tall boy might be emotionally illiterate sometimes but he can read a social situation. When he sees a girl scrambling to try and come up with excuses to make a guy leave her alone, he has no problem inserting himself into the situation. 

-Smooth as fuck walking up to you, greeting you while resting a protective hand on your shoulder. Instantly setting the tone to whoever is talking to you that this was a useless endeavor.

- "Hey, querida,” he’d wait for you to look at him, “Sorry, didn’t see you walk in. You get a drink already? Want me to get you something?”

-The look in his eyes would let you know that he’s offering you an out to the uncomfortable situation that you’re in. He’s not trying to flirt--he’s just trying to drive away whatever asshole wasn’t catching the hint that you didn’t want to talk.

- "Who the fuck are you?” this is a problem that the guy did not see coming.

-Angel would look at him, eyes narrow, “I’m her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”

- The question is rhetorical. It doesn’t matter who the guy is. Angel doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He steps closer to the guy, towering over him. He looks down at him and is practically begging the guy to say something stupid so he has an excuse to physically throw him out the front door.

- He doesn’t get the chance, though. The guy reads the cue, knows that it’s a fight that he will not win, and walks away.

- Angel would turn back to you, “You good? Sorry about that. Didn’t seem like he was getting the hint.”

- You’d shake your head, “He wasn’t. Thank you, I appreciate the assist.”

- “No problem,” he’d pause, “But forreal did you get a drink already? First round on me.”

Ezekiel:

- Y’all remember the casino scenes with the cops? That’s how he handles shit.

- Master of keeping his cool in frustrating situations. Completely follows your lead. He sees a lot of weird interactions being on the serving side of the bar, always clocking what’s happening in front of him in case he has to step in.

-He’d notice you rolling your eyes and giving short answers. He’d also notice that the guy either isn’t picking up the cues, or is willfully ignoring them. EZ catches your eyes a few times, silently asking if you want him to step in. You shake your head--the guy is annoying but harmless for the time being.

- Then he tries to touch you. Casually reaching for your shoulder, trying to rest his hand on your knee. You recoil, trying to create more space between the two of you. He doesn't care though.

- That’s when EZ can’t keep it to himself anymore. He’d sigh, not looking up from the glasses that he’s cleaning, “I don’t think she’s into you, man.”

- You and the man would both turn to look at him, each of you with a surprised expression on your faces. You’d stay quiet, wanting to see how the situation was going to play out. The man next to you would scoff, “I don’t remember you being part of this fucking conversation.”

- “I might as well be if I have to sit here and watch it. You’re the only one out of the three of us not suffering from how uncomfortable this is.”

- His commentary would ruffle some feathers. The man next to you would get defensive, “No one asked for your fucking opin--”

- Knowing that EZ had your back would give you a little extra confidence, “You should listen to him,” you nod, “He’s right. We’re suffering.”

- He’d be caught off-guard by the two of you teaming up on him. Realizing it wouldn't be worth the fight, he’d huff and walk away. EZ would watch him and chuckle, calling after him, “Least you could do is pay your fucking tab!”

- You’d laugh, glad to be done with the uncomfortable situation, “His drink and whatever you want are all on me tonight. As a thank you.”

- He’d give you that little smirk, “Don’t mention it.”

Coco:

- Zero tolerance policy.

- Not coy or polite about it at all.

-Instantly uses himself as a barrier between you and whatever guy it is that’s not leaving you alone. He might not be the biggest guy in the MC, but he sure as hell carries himself like he is when the situation calls for it.

-Will not hesitate to get nose-to-nose with whoever is bothering you. If someone wants to invade your space, he’ll invade theirs. Fair is fair.

- “You really can’t take a fuckin’ hint, huh?” he’d shake his head.

- “What’s your problem?” the man’s voice would sound confident but the look in his eyes would show that he really didn't want a problem with whoever this guy was getting in his face.

- “You. Fuckin’ beat it,” he’d jerk his head towards the door, “Don’t come back, either.”

- Coco carries himself with the confidence of a man that will make someone pay dearly for coming back uninvited. Confrontational situations usually resolve themselves quickly. People tend to not want to mess with him if they can avoid it.

-When the guy inevitably leaves not just you, but the clubhouse altogether, Coco finally turns back to you, “You good, ma?”

- You nod, watching him light up a cigarette, “Uh, yea. I’m good. Thanks for that.”

- He nods, blowing out a puff of smoke, “We’ll make sure that fucker never comes back.”

Hank:

- The only thing that Hank Loza drinks is Respect Women Juice. When he runs across someone that doesn’t, it gets out of hand really quickly.

-Bull in a china shop.

- The same man who is usually calm and cool and collected, physically removes whoever it is that is causing a problem. The guys have tried to teach him deescalation skills but it never sticks. It’s the only thing that Hank gets heated about so they all let it go at this point.

- Hank isn’t a small dude. When he steps toe-to-toe with someone he almost always out-sizes them. They get about 5 seconds to hear what he says and leave on their own before he removes them on his own.

- “You should leave her alone,” the friendly suggestion is really anything but.

- The guys are almost always cocky, not thinking that anything is actually going to happen to them, “Or what, tough guy?”

- They ignored their first and only warning. What happens next is all on them. Hank grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the ground. His voice is quiet, which is way more terrifying than yelling, “Let’s find out.”

- Hank lifts and carries the guy out, on the brink of dragging him like a caveman. The guy is yelling in protest, trying to swing, but Hank is unfazed.

- He throws the guy down the steps of the clubhouse, giving a final warning not to come back. No longer in an agumentative mood, the man takes off in a desperate attempt to avoid getting further tossed around.

- When he goes back into the clubhouse, the rest of the guys have moved on from the situaiton--to them it was business as usual for Hank. You, on the other hand, didn't see the situation unfolding that way at all. He walked back up to you, the anger gone from his face, a gentle smile there instead.

- “Are you alright?” he looks you over as if to make sure you didn't get hurt in the midst of it all.

- “Yea,” you nod, “I’m...I’m fine. Thanks. You...you didn’t have to do all that.”

- He’d chuckle, knowing that for him it was the only course of action, “Of course I did,” he’d gently rest his hand on the outside of your arm, “Let me know if anyone else gives you any trouble.”

Creeper:

- The smaller version of Hank, tbh. Constantly out here Respecting Women.

- Remember that scene where he catches a shotgun that’s tossed to him and immediately starts shooting on the highway?? That’s the energy he has when dealing with men who disrespect women.

- Cannot easily lift and remove men the same way Hank does, but he will throw hands without hesitation.

- The guys told him no more threatening with guns in the clubhouse. So fists will have to suffice.

- Does not offer a warning to the guy. If someone is being pushy or rude, they don’t deserve a heads-up. He will try to get your attention in some way first, to make sure that you want him to intervene. If he thinks that it’s going to get out of hand, or if you let him know with a pleading look that you could use the assist, he is instantly throwing himself into the middle of it.

- He’d catch your eye, motioning back and forth between you and the man in front of you to ask if you need an out. You’d give him a slight nod and that’s all it would take.

- Walking up, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and turns him around, “Hey, motherfucker,” he’d shove him towards the door of the clubhouse, “Leave.”

- Caught off-guard, the man would shove him back. Fully-bruised ego shining through, “Keep your hands off me.”

- That’s when you’d hear the first crack of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw. Your eyes would go wide, not ever having seen Creeper get like this. His focus would be completely on the man stumbling towards the ground in front of him, “I said get the fuck out.”

- It usually doesn’t take more than one punch to get his point across. HIs muscles aren’t just for show--getting clocked by him fucking hurts. They’re lucky that he’s not big on wearing rings.

- Once the threat is neutralized, he instantly shifts back into his quiet, gentler self to check in with you. He sees the surprise in your face at how things unfolded and he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m done, promise.”

- It’d get you to laugh. You can see it in his expression that it’s almost like a switch he can flip on and off. “Um. Thank you. That...isn’t what I was expecting. But thank you.”

- “Are you alright?” he’d sit down next to you, mindful to give you some space.

- “Yea, I’m good. How’s your hand?”

- He’d chuckle, “All good. Nothing new.”

Okay this was a lot of fun. I love all these dorks. Hope you enjoyed! xo

[greensaplinggrace]

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

[happyandticklish]

Payback For A Thief

Notes: For the anon request. Not exactly restraints, but close enough. I’m finding that I really enjoy writing these two’s dynamic. I hope you enjoy the end result!

Summary: Eren attempts to pull a meaningless prank on Jean, but the other decides to fight back. 

“Jaeger!”

Armin jumped besides him, but Eren remained cool-faced as he continued making his bed. “What have you come to scream at me about this time, Jean?”

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, whirling him around. Eren stared down unimpressed into the eyes of Jean Kirstein, whose mouth was curled up in a furious snarl. Armin glanced between the two, clearly worried about the outcome of the encounter but too nervous to do anything to stop it.

“My gear,” Jean explained tersely, glaring at the other. “It’s gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Where did you put it?”

Eren shrugged, calmly peeling the other’s fingers off his shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But if you’re having trouble keeping track of your items, maybe you should work on your organizational skills as opposed to harassing your fellow soldiers.”

One could practically see the steam rising off of Jean. Armin tugged Eren’s shirtsleeves, pulling him aside momentarily. “Eren!” he hissed, shooting the other anxious glances. “Maybe you should just give back whatever it is you stole. Starting fights isn’t going to solve anything.”

“But I didn’t steal anything!” Eren protested. He sighed, turning back around to face Jean and holding up his hands in surrender. “Look, if it’ll make you feel any better, I can help you look for it.”

“Look for it—” Jean spluttered, fingers twitching by his sides. “You’re the one who hid it in the first place!”

“You don’t have any proof of that,” Eren countered. “Besides, what makes you think it’s even me in the first place? Anyone could have stolen it—or maybe you’ve simply misplaced it. Mistakes like that can be easy for people with horse brains like you.”

Jean clenched his hand into a fist by his side. “You know, you should really be more careful about running your mouth off all the time. One of these days it’s gonna get you into serious trouble.”

Eren narrowed his eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

Instead of answering, Jean lunged forward, securing both of Eren’s wrists in his hands as he shoved him back, pinning them above his head. Eren grunted as his back hit the wall. “Maybe,” Jean replied, his voice low and breathy as his words hit the shell of his ear. “Though I don’t think it’s much of a challenge in your position.”

Eren swallowed, trying to ignore the effect Jean’s proximity was having on him. He averted his gaze to the left of him. “Cowardly move, pinning your opponent down. Too scared of what will happen in a fair fight?”

Jean scoffed, rolling his eyes. “In your dreams. Besides, it’s called strategy. Though I doubt you’ve ever heard of it—all you know is rushing into things headfirst and almost getting everyone killed.”

“Hey, at least I do something!” Eren shot back. “Can’t say the same for you, Military Police.”

“Guys!” Armin cried, glancing back towards the door as though he were worried someone was going to walk in on them any second. “We’re gonna get in trouble. Do you want Captain Levi to find you guys fighting again? He’s going to kick both of you out of the garrison, and then we’ll be down two fighters. Is that really worth some petty disagreement over stolen gear?”

“Lost,” Eren corrected.

“Whatever!”

Jean pursed his lips, considering. “You know, you may be right.”

Eren shot him a startled look. “Really?”

“Maybe fighting isn’t the right way to go about it,” Jean continued. He eyed the other intently, his gaze scanning him up and down. A shudder made its way down Eren’s spine and he shifted, suddenly self-conscious about the position. “However, I think I have another way to get the point across.”

Eren was not a fan of his tone. “W-What does that mean?” he stammered, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

Jean remained silent, continuing his intensive inspection of the other. He shifted his hold to one hand, giving the other one free reign of movement. He reached out experimentally, pinching his hips.

Eren yelped, twitching away from him. “Dude, what the hell? What are you—ah, no!” He threw his head back as Jean continued to pinch up and down his sides, sending shock after shock of feeling throughout Eren’s body. He pressed his lips together into a firm line, trying to stifle his reactions. Even still, a small, grunted giggle managed to slip out, and Jean’s eyes lit up.

“You are ticklish,” he mused, savage glee dancing among his words. “So he wasn’t lying after all.”

“ ‘He’?” Eren questioned defensively. “Who’s ‘He’?”

“Armin,” Jean explained conversationally, curiously poking his sides now in a manner that was infuriatingly distracting. “We were discussing life before the army, and he brought up some stories about you and him from his childhood. I didn’t believe it at first when he told me, but he insisted the two of you used to have tickle fights all the time as kids.”

“Armin!” Eren hissed, shooting him a betrayed look. “That was p-private information!” He stuttered over his words as Jean managed to land a finger under his ribs. He fought the wobbly grin trying to make its way onto his features.

Armin stiffened at the mention of his name, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically. “Sorry Eren. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of came up.”

“How does that just come—hmm! Ah!” Eren closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath as Jean’s fingers makes their way up his sides, teetering on the tops of his ribs. The spot was almost unbearable, in-between both his ribs and underarms, and reluctantly he felt breathy giggles begin to escape him. “J-Jehean, don’t.”

“Begging already?” Jean questioned with an irritating smirk, fluttering his fingers over the sensitive skin. Eren jumped with a soft squeak, arms trembling in their hold. “I’ve barely even touching you.”

“N-Not begging!” Eren grunted, forcing the words out. “J-Just nohot t-there!”

“Why not?”

“Behecause!”

“Because why?”

“Juhuhust—gah!” Eren bit his lip on a sudden storm of giggles as Jean continued to lightly scratch the spot. The pace of the tickling never increased, but the persistence of such a vulnerable spot being pursued made him want to crawl out of his own skin. “I-Ihit—fuck, that really tihihihickles! J-Juhuhust gohoho sohohomewhere ehelse!”

“No, I think I’m good where I am.” Jean examined the other, the flushed complexion to his cheeks, the way his smile completely overtook his features and made him look slightly less angry at the world for once in his life. Something tugged strangely in his chest and he forced himself to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.

He moved his hand away momentarily, and Eren breathed a sigh of relief. In the next moment however, his hand had slipped under his shirt, his fingers crawling spiderlike up his sides. Eren burst into laughter, squirming wildly at the unexpected attack.

“Nahahaha, Jehehehean!” Eren bucked against his hold, but found it held strong. “Dohohon’t!”

“Does it tickle?” Jean teased, wiggling his fingers under his arms with an unbearable vigor.

“Yehehehes, yohohou fuhuhuhuhuck!” Eren shrieked, his legs scrabbling underneath him. He twisted left and right, anything to get away from that hand, that fucking hand. “Y-Yohohou ahahare sohoho dehehehead!”

“Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe.”

“Yohohou ahahahabsolute ahahahasshole—”

Armin was frozen as he watched the two of them, unsure what to do. He knew he should help Eren, but the threat of being the next under Jean’s fingers was enough to make him cautiously hang back. Not to mention, it was kind of nice to see Eren laugh like that again. It was difficult for Eren to let loose nowadays, so moments like these were rare. It sent a slight nostalgic pang through him, for the days when he and Eren used to do things like this all the time, without worry of Titans or missions or risking their lives in the line of duty.

A sudden squeal drew him out of his thoughts and he directed his attention back to the boys in front of him. Jean was vibrating his fingers against his ribs and Eren was writhing at his touch, frantic laughter drawn helplessly from his lips. “Stop, stop, stahahahahahap!” Eren pleaded, tugging hard at his arms to no avail. “C’mohohohon, plehehehease, Ihihihi cahahahan’t!”

“Is that an admission of defeat, Jaeger?” Jean chuckled, shaking his head. “I have to admit I’m surprised. I would have thought you’d hold out longer for all your talk of bravery in the face of your enemies. Are you really going to lose to something as simple as tickling?”

Eren wanted to refute his statement, to prove that he was stronger than that, but the intense vibrations coursing through his body made bravado impossible. He giggled and shrieked and squirmed under Jean’s touch, but after another agonizing minute of his ribs being attacked, he found he simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ohohohokay, ohohokay!” Eren yelped. “Ihihihi ahahahadmit ihihit! Ihihi stohohohole yohohour gehehear! Nohohow lehehehet mehehehe gohohoho, plehehehease!”

Jean smirked at the admission. “There, was that so hard?”

He dropped his hold and Eren’s arms shot down, wrapping protectively around his sides. He used the wall for support as he tried to regain his stolen breath, spare giggles falling uselessly from his lips. “That was uncalled for.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jean pointed out. “So. Where is it?”

“I put it… I put it…” Eren began to laugh for reasons entirely unrelated to tickling, though the sound came out breathy and paused with anticipation. “On one of the horses, in the stables.”

Jean’s face flushed a brilliant vermillion. “You little—” He broke off the sentence, clearly too put off to think of a good response, and rushed off in the other direction to go retrieve it.

Eren chuckled breathlessly, sinking down against the wall and propping his back up against it. Armin hesitantly approached him after a moment, placing a hand on his shoulder. His tone spoke of concern, but he couldn’t help the slight smile from entering his features. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t get to start with that,” Eren interrupted. “You just stood there, doing nothing!”

“He would’ve gotten me next,” Armin defended.

“I would’ve helped you, if our situations were reversed,” Eren grumbled.

“Well yes,” Armin agreed patiently. “But you like being—”

“Hey, not so loud, will you?” Eren interrupted, though the room was entirely empty except for them. “And that is entirely besides the point. That doesn’t mean shit for brains Jean gets to.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it,” Armin pointed out, nudging his leg with his foot.

Eren blushed violently, glaring at the other. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now if you don’t mind, I have to go meet up with Mikasa. I’m probably gonna be late now after all this hold-up.”

The boy sprang to his feet, albeit a bit shakily from the prior tickling, and stalked off in the direction Jean had gone earlier. Armin watched him go with a smile, shaking his head.

Sometimes Eren could be painfully ignorant.

[hollyhomburg]

(warning: overly dramatic) part of me wants to write like- a fucking messy story. like messy as in the m/c is involved with all of the boys kind of messy. like- maybe she was jungkook’s childhood love who he lost touch with when he went to become an idol. and then one day she moves to seoul thinking he’s forgotten about her and thinks “better not bother him- he’s famous afterall” and ends up starting her own life without him thinking that their paths will never cross again. 

she hooks up with seokjin on accident one night without knowing who he is. it’s against his better judgement but he can’t help the fact that sometimes he gets riled up in the way that only a good fuck can settle. a few days afterwords she realizes who he was and decides against contacting him or answering his text messages. ( though she does respond when he writes “i guess you’ve figured out who i am- and in that case- i have to ask you to agree to this” and she’s not an asshole- so she signs the non-disclosure agreement which she sends back to him without comment). 

only a few days later she runs into jimin- or more correctly jimin runs into her getting harassed late at night by a few drunk men. he pretends to be her boyfriend. He’s wearing a mask and a bucket hat and glasses- and despite his height jimin is commanding enough to get them to back off. he ends up walking her home “how do i know you're not trying to walk me home so you can find out where i live?” 

“you’re new here right? dont you know how many cameras there are in seoul” 

“there aren't any cameras on my street” and so jimin sighs, pulls down his mask and turns to a billboard of his face (this one for vt cosmetics sitting outside a closed olive young). imitating his pose for a second before he can see understanding dawn on her face. “see? you really think im going to do something like that?” it’s not every day he lets himself be seen like this- but he has a feeling that for you it’s worth it. but it doesn't get near the reaction that he wanted. 

you curse low, crossing your arms over your chest.  “how the fuck is there another one” and though jimin responds with a ‘what?’ you dont answer. you keep walking, kicking a stone hard enough to hit the billboard. and jimin has to admit this is the first time he’s ever felt lacking in front of a woman. it’s electric and he can’t say he’s not drawn in. 

he walks you home- does not kiss the strange woman who he just met on the cheek even though you’re looking sleepy and soft and vulnerable. jimin is a gentleman. 

it’s not until weeks later that she actually does end up running into jungkook- and she’s shocked to find that their friendship and the pure chemistry they have is still there. they meet up for coffee after coffee and then- she meets the boys, and both seokjin and jimin just try to reign in their over imaginative hearts (and maybe their boners- maybe her and seokjin meet up in some forgotten corner of the company for a repeat meeting- during which seokjin confesses she’s the best fuck he’s ever had). 

everyone can feel the tension between you and jimin. and jimin is the first to confess that yeah- they did meet a few weeks back. and you both pretend you’re not blushing when hoseok teases “wahhhhh thats like a drama” jungkook stoic faced besides her. tugging on her earing and whining to leave. he wants her all to himself- not hat he’d ever admit that. and jungkook- jungkook wishes his heart didn't hurt the same way it had 10 years ago- wishes his schoolboy crush could have just stayed that. 

what's worse- is that Taehyung and yoongi have taken an immediate romantic interest in her. kind of having more of an adversarial situation where they both keep trying to one up the other. Yoongi takes her out on a boat to watch the sunrise in the middle of the ocean, doesn't care about holding her hand in front of the others. yoongi is so sweet and kind; cooks her dinner when she shows up at his house crying for whatever reason (it was jungkook- it’s always jungkook) and when she’s done he kisses the curry he made off of her lips and hands her a water saying playfully. “if you dont drink enough water you’ll run out of tears.” 

“Are you planning to make me cry min yoongi?”

“Only out of happiness hopefully.” 

and taehyung takes her to an amusement park in the middle of the night, so that it’s just them and a few people who follow to run the rides for them. he lets her take cute couple photos and always offers up his oversized jackets for her when she gets cold after riding a wet ride. and maybe she catches him staring at her translucent dress. lets him pull her into a corner of the amusement park and fuck her where anyone could hear or see. “are you sure yoongi could fuck you this good? or seokjin for that matter? don’t think i havent noticed the way he looks at you.” 

and jungkook- jungkook can’t say anything- because he always puts the others first. and namjoon- oh namjoon and you have an incredibly intellectual relationship. Staying up after you’ve all drank yourselves nearly to sleep, jimin curling up on the carpeted floor near you saying “dont walk home alone- wake me before you go and I’ll walk you.” jimin is always saying things like that to you. and getting all protective whenever one of their backup dancers or any other man at the company shows interest in her. 

you and namjoon talk about everything that night- philosophy- love- life- it comes so easy for you to talk with him. and when that night he confesses that he’s never fallen asleep in someone's arms you pat your shoulder and let him lie near you on the wide couch. your hand smoothing up and down his back. and when you wake up in the morning before everyone elce you pretend he hadn’t migrated near you enough that his cheek was up against your chest- and he pretends he doesn't want to record your heart beat and put it into a song so that he can have it to lul him to sleep always. meet up once every few weeks to go on walks together because you both share a love for nature. trips to gardens and parks that feel more like dates than anything.  

and hobi- hobi sees it all happening and tries to stay out of it. rationalizes it that there has to be someone to stay impartial and professional. but you end up becoming friends against his better judgement. you do your work in his studio because you like how he’s always playing music even if he’s not working on one of his own songs, and even then you have headphone and jhope watches you sway and bob your head to whatever you’re listening too. very few people have a sense for beat like you both do- and though you can’t dance- he can see the potential in it. he offers to teach you and you agree and of course you end up fucking in the practice room because hoseok just needed to show her how to move her hips right. 

only- yoongi hears the noises from the studio and goes to investigate, and he’d love it if he wasn’t hurt but he is. So he ignores her for a little while- because he wants to move on- he’s tired of being hurt by her. and then when she confronts him- somehow everyones there and jungkook misspeaks- says some pretty terrible shit that he immediately regrets and when she runs out of course jimn follows her. “jimin just leave” 

“no- not until i know you’re safe” she sighs but then gets angrier when he grabs her hand. 

“no- don’t- don’t do that”

 “do what?”

 “hold my hand unless you have any desire to keep me- to actually love me- then you don’t get to hold my hand” and they walk- jimin grabs her hand and she just sighs- so tired of being pulled 7 different directions. thinks jimin is just interested in sleeping with her- but he’s not- he just wants to love her. 

things get even worse when she and yoongi makeup- decide to try and stay friends, and then jungkook confesses to her and turns the whole thing upside down and someone sees her and namjoon out walking, his arm around her shoulders and suddenly dating rumors are floating around everywhere. and fuck- they’re all fighting. jungkook grabbing her arm “she was my friend first” 

“yeah but i was the one who was romantically interested in her” 

“guess again” 

“that doesn't count seokjin hyung- you guys just slept together that's not love” and before any of them have a chance to settle it out she speaks above all of them (maybe picking up a glass and dropping it to get them all to pay attention to her. “maybe if you stoped and wondered what it was that i wanted you all wouldn’t be pricks right now” and then she just- walks out. dodges their calls- ignores every message. until namjoon turns up at her door and asks her to come see them. everyone nervous before jungkook swallows. looking at her with shining eyes, the face of her first love. “we’ve decided, if you’re okay with it, then we think we can share.” 

(PSA; this fic idea is not free to use!)

[spencers-dria]

Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want

Four Feet Apart

🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison

The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!

“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”

The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.

“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”

The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.

_______________________________________

I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.

“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”

He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.

“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”

He blinked, speechless at first.

“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”

“Well, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.

“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”

“Now how in the world would you know that?”

He simply shrugged.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.

I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”

___________________________________________

The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.

“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”

He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.

“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”

That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.

“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.

“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.

“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”

In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.

Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.

He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.

At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.

We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.

I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.

I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.

“He left.”

I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.

Then one day I received a letter.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..

Counting the days,

Spencer

____________________________________________

Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.

Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.

With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.

My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.

I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.

The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.

He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.

“Missed you too.” I smiled.

“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.

I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”

I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Anything off limits?”

I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”

Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.

“Like what you see?”

“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.

His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.

“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.

I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”

He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.

“Yes sir, please!” I beg.

“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”

“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”

Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.

“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.

And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.

There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?

“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.

“But I can’t see sir.”

“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”

Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.

“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”

I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.

“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”

I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.

“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”

His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.

“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?

“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.

“Show me, baby.”

I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.

Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.

When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely

ridiculous pace.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”

Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.

Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.

“What?”

In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.

“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“

Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.

He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.

“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”

Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.

“Spencer!”

He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”

I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.

He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.

I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.

“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.

“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.

[likeadog]

okay so im seeing people get anons about this and its coming up in friend groups so i think now's actually a pretty good time to tackle the idea of religious (specifically cultic) abuse in media and how we as an audience interact with it

TLDR: dehumanization and sexualization of cult victims furthers the misunderstanding that cults "don't exist now", and RA survivors would feel much safer in fandom spaces if people acknowledged and analyzed the harmful portrayals of cults in media.

cw: discussions of cults, abuse, and sexual assault

also, if you have questions, please shoot me an ask or dm (off anon preferably, though)

let me start this with a disclaimer that i dont think every media that features ra is inherently bad. i think thats a bit harsh and as an ra survivor ive come to terms with the fact that there are going to be depictions of it in ways that maybe dont give it the respect it deserves, and trying to "what about [x]" everything will only lead people to talking in circles with themselves. what i want to address here is how you, as a consumer, respond to and parse out what cultic abuse means in any particular portrayal of it.

*also please don't harass people about their RAS status, like, if you see someone enjoying something with a less than stellar portrayal of cults, don't send them asks or dms like "well are YOU a cult survivor?" reducing the consumption of media to a yes or no game based on identity-- especially an identity that comes as the result of explicit pain and spiritual violation is not only derivative but also degrading to survivors and the people you're grilling. all we want is for people to think carefully about what they spread and portray, and how they think about those situations.

so, i think the first thing to tackle is...what is a cult? This is something that's surprisingly hard to define, especially in fictional settings with fictional cults. For example, (and pardon the use of this example, I don't feel like hunting for others), My Hero Academia has an organization in it that I would say fits the criteria for being a cult, but by and large isn't considered one by fans because it's not explicitly called a cult. (Although numerous cult jokes have been made about it). It also has an organization that IS explicitly referred to as a cult.

So, when you're dealing with how to process what is and is not a cult-- and how to make your presence safe for RA survivors, you have to be able to sift through more than just "did the narrative tell me this is a cult?"

There's a few different models people use; one of the most popular being the BITE model-- but I should clarify that the BITE model is really tailored towards religious and strictly hierarchal cults, but can be applied to other kinds of cults.

(and yes, there are cults other than religious/spiritual ones. corporate cults and wellness cults have been on the rise, and it's good to keep that in mind both when engaging with media and also in the real world.)

However, I'm a religious cult survivor, so a lot of my experience is strictly irt this, so please take what I say with a grain of salt, and know that I don't speak for every cult survivor, every religious cult survivor, or every religious abuse survivor. I am One Guy on the internet.

When it comes to media, I have a few questions I run through in order to figure out if something is A Cult.

1) Fringe Ideas. This one is one of those that most people know-- and often incorrectly use to attribute cult status to other things. However, it is worth mentioning, that you don't become a cult by following mainstream ideologies. BUT. BUT. not every group with weird ideas is a cult! Some groups are just weird and are fine being weird. It's a rectangles and squares situation. All cults have fringe ideas and behaviors, not all fringe ideas and behaviors belong to cults.

2) Hierarchies. Cults always have people in power, at least in my experience. There have been ideas thrown around about "completely decentralized cults"-- but to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that concept, and I don't know enough about it personally to say whether or not it's legitimate. If you have any sources, hmu.

BUT. Most cults have a power structure. You're going to have leaders, usually with a handful at the verrrrry tippy top, whose word is law. This can be associated with things like religious ideas (channelling god) or being "a genius", like in corporate cults.

3) Control. I cannot stress this enough; cults are all about control. How you think, feel, behave-- they discourage critical thought, encourage snitching on each other, buddy-group behavior; the BITE model explicitly lists these models of control.

4) Us V Them. Cults will give all those that oppose them or simply don't believe them a bad name. They're uneducated, they're evil-- it varies cult to cult, but you'll see them turning the non believers into a homogenous, frightening group. They want to discourage looking outwards, and they want to viciously isolate members.

Other things of note are extremism, talks of enlightenment, harsh punishments, the cult eating large portions of the member's finances, etc.

However, this post is largely to address FICTIONAL cults. and the unfortunate fact of the matter is that fictional cults are rarely fleshed out in a way that can be held one to one to a model, and, more often, don't even afford the victims of a cult humanity.

and this is one of THE biggest issues you find in cult portrayals. the leader is usually a charismatic, or perhaps menacing, figure, one that usually our protagonists-- who are rarely cult victims, they are typically outsiders (not inherently bad, mind you)-- faces personally, with the hoardes of mindless zombies forming one giant hurdle.

Naturally, this can be...hurtful. There's nuance to who is and is not a victim in a cult (although my rule of thumb is to look at what abuses that person specifically exerts over others-- and you can be both a victim and perpetrator of abuse. to treat them exclusively is lacking all nuance), but the people are the bottom, even if they joined willingly, are people who were preyed upon. Not only that, but many media cults forget that people can be born into cults, and never really had a choice to begin with. To treat these people like they are mindless-- or that they deserve the suffering they are in because they are there-- completely erases all nuance, humanity, and understanding to the cult survivior struggle. Not only that, but it continues to sensationalize and deify cult leaders, which is doing their job for them, really.

The second biggest issue is the romanticization and sexualization of cults, religious abuse, and cultic abuse.

(yes...this is a thing.)

The use of cults as a way to make a character edgy or tragic is one thing, but there's something sinister about using it to project a certain sexual behavior onto that character-- whether it be as the subjugator or subjugated. Sexual abuse is rampent in cults, and ritualistic sexual abuse is used to justify it. To sexualize the idea of a cult(ist) raping and abusing someone is...beyond offensive to anyone who has been in a cult where their sexual safety and autonomy has been compromised. Or, in some cases, the cultist is so naive and sheltered they can be easily coerced and taken advantage of due to their brainwashing.

This is...bad? This is bad. To ignore the fact that these depictions are just as harmful as any other romanticization of abuse is to ignore the real suffering of cult victims.

Really, the larger problem is that people don't really think cults exist, not really. They're all things of the past, or things that exist solely in fiction-- when in reality, every day cults form and continue to grow. If you've ever met a mormon, you've met a cultist. The moment you begin to process and parce the fact that this isn't as bizarre and unusual and fictional as it seems, you take the steps to respecting people who have been in that situation and become better at detecting cults, cult recruitment, and are able to more clearly assess what you take in.

Once again, there's so many bad portrayal of cults that it would be...stupid to call for an immediate disowning of anything with it in it. I personally have come to terms with the idea that I will have gripes about these portrayals in most cases, but rarely do I see people other than fellow RA or cult survivors discussing these portrayals. I'm hoping people can become more aware and willing to discuss cults in a serious and analytical context and criticize how they're portrayed in the things they love.

And once again, cult survivors are NOT a monolith. If a cult survivor expresses they are uncomfortable with something I said here that I'm not, or vice versa, listen to the people who actively surround you and whom you care about.

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, chapter 1

Novel decided to do Adrienette April on a whim. Each post until the end of April (or such is the plan) will have 3 prompts in it.

She also discovered she’s very rusty. Bear with me here. XD

Next>>

1. AU

Marinette had thought she’d grown used to Chloe’s bullying, having to had endure it since they were little. However, with high school came a new name that became a regular part of Chloe’s vocabulary, alongside “hot” and “sexy” and “dreamboat”.

“And Marinette would never catch the eye of someone so perfect.”

Honestly, Marinette had thought she was over it, but on a particularly bad day, she’d snapped back at Chloe.

“Well, clearly he isn’t that perfect if he fawns over someone whose only redeeming quality is pretending to be pretty.”

That had led to a fire alarm getting pulled and Marinette left to blame for it. Anyone who tried to come to her defense was shut down, and Marinette had been suspended.

Which had started an all-out war.

After being stuck at home, wrongfully, for three solid days, Marinette had snapped. She’d decided that if Chloe was going to build a bonfire and poor on the gasoline that she would be there with a match. By senior year, Marinette’s record had taken a hit for it but Chloe’s reputation was in the toilet.

Marinette would take what she could get.

However, she supposed she hadn’t fully thought out the consequences. As much as she played with fire, she should have realized she’d get burned sooner or later.

And she did. Third degree.

We regret to inform you your application has been denied.

Those were words she grew tired of seeing yet came back from every school she applied to. With that in mind, she’d called up her girl friends to tell them what had happened.

“Hey, Marinette,” Alya had said upon seeing the letters. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel really bad for you. But… I did warn you—”

“I get it,” Marinette had surrendered, knowing that Alya was completely right. “You tried to warm me of the consequences, and now I’m paying for them.”

The girls had slipped into a moment of silence before Alix spoke up. “Hey, I can ask Max if he can do a little digging so you at least know why, yeah?”

Marinette had raised a brow but agreed. “Only if he’s not busy with his own college stuff.”

“Oh please, he’s too smart for college. He started up some robotics company in his free time and is already making bank on it.”

It took a week for Max to come back with a full report. Marinette had to give him props for working fast as he did.

“Hacking into the system was the first thing I could think of,” he’d explained. “In the side notes, there was mention of your attendance record and suspensions.”

“They were all wrongful suspensions,” Alix had countered.

“Doesn’t matter to the school,” Max had said with a shrug. “But even then, I thought there had to be more to this than just attendance. There were other students who had the same notes yet were accepted. So I shifted focus to digging up background on all the directors of the school. After hacking a few emails, I discovered Audrey Bourgeois happens to know a lot of directors or administration members in all the fashion schools of France. Considering the contents of most of those emails, it has become clear that Marinette was wrongfully barred from every school she’d applied to. And that there’s nothing that can be done about it because we only discovered such scandal through highly illegal means.”

“So…” Alya had begun, turning her attention to Marinette. “Where does that leave you, M?”

Marinette’s lips had pursed in thought. It was funny how things turned out, because despite her anger, she somehow had been peace with what she was faced with. “I think that the last place I want to be is in an industry full of liars and people who use their words to manipulate anyone they damn well please.”

That was how she ended up working full-time in her parents’ bakery. They never said a word about it, but she knew they were disappointed. Of course they weren’t mad about her still being here and working in the bakery with them, and she knew her parents still loved her more than anything.

But she knew that with as many dreams as she had and had shared with them, they were disappointed on her surrendering it all.

“Sorry, Maman, Papa,” she whispered into the empty kitchen as she plopped the baguettes she formed onto a baking tray. “Just give me a little time to figure things out. Seems like lofty dreams are a lot easier to crush than I realized.”

 2. Rebellion

A son can only bear the world of their parent’s expectations for so long. He wasn’t Atlas, but after a few years of acting like him, Adrien decided to dump the globe. To hell if it broke. He’d smirk in satisfaction at his father’s disappointment.

At the very least, the fact he no longer had the weight of the world of his shoulders made the far-too-common disappointment lecture easier to bear.

His strategic rebellion had started harmless enough. At sixteen with a rapidly growing forced modeling career, he’d given his father an ultimatum: he gets to grow out his hair, or it all goes. It had been shocking the amount of power the razor in his hand had given him. It was the perfect harmless threat. His father had been furious, throwing a fit about Adrien acting like a child, but after being gaslit for so long, Adrien had finally come to realize the abusive techniques for what they were. And he wasn’t going to roll over and take it any longer.

That day had ended with Adrien being grounded but ultimately the victor of their stand-off.

After that, he’d begun ditching certain events. He’d always liked fencing, so he never ditched those lessons, but attendance for his home-school lessons, mandarin lessons, and piano lessons had all been decided on a whim. His father had hardly been pleased by this, but to Adrien, that was the point. The lectures soon washed into one another so much that Adrien could practically recite the words that roll off his father’s tongue verbatim. He’d come to realize they were strategically meant to hurt. To humiliate. And as such, he’d stopped taking them personally.

Then came the fun part.

He got earrings. Honestly, Adrien hadn’t really cared for the piercings one way or another. In one way, there were a hassle, and caring for new piercings was a pain in the butt. However, they had been worth it to see his dad so royally pissed off.

Then came the ditching of certain photoshoots. There was a reason Adrien had held off on this one for so long: he cared about the people running the shoot. There was no reason they needed to be collateral in this battle between him and his father. After all, they were just employees doing their job; Adrien didn’t want them to suffer for his rebellion. With that in mind, Adrien had planned out his absences of these photoshoots. Again, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his mess, so he had always organized a replacement model. Shoot would always go on, just not as planned.

And that was enough to drive his father mad.

It always put a smile on Adrien’s face.

The last touch was an unexpected one. He hadn’t even thought about going this far. Yet, a friend of his not only put the idea in his head, but gave him the art to go with it.

“Is that a tattoo?”

Oh, how he wished he would have taken a picture of his father’s face. The large black cat surrounded in a green, wispy smoke that wrapped around his forearm was truly a work of art. He’d had to think carefully about this decision, but in the end, he quite liked it.

“Yeah. I’m eighteen; I can ink myself if I want to. Why? Is that a problem?”

Adrien might be wearing a cat on his arm, but the grin on his lips was downright wolfish.

Eventually, it all had come to a head and blew up in his face. Adrien couldn’t say he’d been surprised. In fact, he had been fully expecting it. He’d already found an apartment to rent and had begun sneaking most of his important things over there before his father could kick him out. So when Adrien found himself kicked to the curb as soon as he was handed his general education certificate, Adrien had been prepared.

But mostly, he was free.

What a joyous day it was.

However, now that he was free, he knew he needed a job. Not because he needed the money, per se, but because it was time he started acting like the average adult. He never got to go to school, so now, it was time to pick up a mundane, first job that everyone hated but would “serve him well later in life”. Mostly, it would just be something normal.

The easy places to apply were food shops and retail stores. He’d work one for a while before deciding what his next life step would be. Chloe had been quick to offer him a job at her father’s hotel, but Adrien was vehemently against the idea. Over the span of his rebellion, Chloe’s behavior and attitude towards him had grown notably worse, and he had a feeling cutting ties with her would be his next step in life.

In the end, he’d scored a job he definitely was underqualified for. He’d applied partly out of spite and partly because ‘why not?’ He’d heard about this bakery enough times from Chloe to know the “cruel bitch who did nothing but mercilessly harass her” lived here, and that was enough to pique Adrien’s curiosity. At a bakery as popular as that, though, he hadn’t been sure he’d get a call. And when he did, he knew he would do everything he could to present himself as a reliable and respectable man eager to work, but he never thought he’d end up hitting it off with the owner.

Which somehow ended up with him agreeing to work at Tom and Sabine’s Patisserie.

Going into that job, he swore to himself he would do what he could to prove himself worthy. He knew there had to have been better applicants, so Adrien didn’t want to disappoint the very kind owners who dared give him a chance. Soon, his days were spent working hard while covered in flour and surrounded by bread all day. Well, bread and all the sharp and hot objects in your average kitchen.

He just didn’t think that would include a wicked sharp and smoking hot young lady that happened to be his bosses’ daughter.

 3. Game Night

“Mama, Papa, please go. You two hardly ever get out of the house.”

Marinette watched her maman put a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone while her papa turned to her. “But I’ll be busy that night. We have a massive order scheduled for the next day.”

“I can handle that,” Marinette quickly countered with a grin. “You know I’m a night owl, anyway. I’ll get it done, and you two can go enjoy game night with your friends.”

Her parents spared each other a glance. “Are you sure about that, Marinette?” Maman asked.

“Positive. Papa already talks to the bread too much, so he really should talk to people for a change. And while you have to deal with people all day, I know you want more than to just have short conversations filled with small talk. So please, go out and have a social life for once.”

With one last look, her parents relented. With a smile, her mother took her hand off the phone. “We’ll be there.”

Papa turned to her with a grin. “I was going to spend that time teaching Adrien how to handle those orders. I can leave teaching him in your hands, right?”

Her grin fell. Adrien Agreste. What the hell a washed-out model was doing working at her parents’ bakery was beyond her. Admittedly, over the last month she’d been working with him, the most she’d say is that maybe he wasn’t too bad a guy. Papa certainly sung his praises. But that still didn’t answer the question of why he was working here of all places. After all, he was Chloe’s friend and suspected lover.

“Don’t think I don’t see that look on your face, Marinette,” her maman chastised. She’d hung up and set her phone down already, fully giving her attention to her daughter. “No matter your personal feelings, you really should give him a chance.”

“He’s a good kid,” Papa said. “Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I can tell he really does want to learn and do his best.”

Marinette sighed. This wasn’t the first time this talk had happened. She remembered having a talk with her parents after his first interview. There were a few other people who were far more qualified for the job, but Papa said he liked Adrien’s personality and spirit the best. So in the end, all Marinette’s objections had fallen upon deaf ears.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll give him a chance.”

With a smile that made Marinette loath to disappoint him, her papa patted her head affectionately. “Thank you, Marinette. I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”

Not likely. “I’ll do my best, Papa.”

“Really, Marinette,” her maman warned. “Unless you have a valid reason, you need to put aside your feelings for the sake of the bakery running smoothly. Can you manage that?”

Appropriately chastised, Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment. Maman brought up a good point: Marinette shouldn’t let her anger towards Adrien affect the bakery. Her parents didn’t deserve that. “Yes, Maman. I’m sorry.”

With a smile, her maman came up and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette hugged her back. “No, thank you, Maman and Papa, for everything. I won’t let you down.”

Papa wrapped his arms around both her and Maman. “Thank you, sweetheart. We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Canine (Revenant x Reader)

Part 2 of 2 of the chapter “Styptic & Canine”. [AO3 Link to full chapter]

Theme: Revenant introduces the reader to his makeshift family as he turns up the spice level, but an unfortunate run in with a creep ruins most of the day.

Warnings: Graphic content, physical male dominance, threats of violence, blood, descriptions of violence, sexual references, sexual harassment, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mentions of mania, general romantic fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: This post was too big. 18K words. This is part 2 of a larger chapter that is “Styptic & Canine”. I’m posting it in halves so Tumblr doesn’t die. Also, yes, this chapter is where I start raising the heat. My intent was to boil the frog, but Tumblr made me split right where I first turn on the gas stove.

Navigation: First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Chapter

You regain consciousness to a mild shake, his hands around each of your cheeks and his frame vaulted over your body in a sitting position.

"Oh dear, little skinsuit, what was that about?" His voice drips with some kind of sadistic humor.

"What was what about?" The morning light was shining through the skylight. He obviously let you sleep in a bit, for which you were grateful. You couldn't remember any dreams though, it was all blank.

"Don't play stupid, you must know." He's way too into this. "I want to know if it was me."

"I really don't remember. Why, what did I do?"

He lurches back in some kind of cruel delight, pulling his hands away to cup around his own face, accentuating his joy.

"Then maybe you'll know the answer to this: who is 'daddy'?"

Your face gets hot instantly, now you know why he's so interested. He has prime material to hold over your head for days. You have one potential way out and he isn't likely to buy it.

"I never met my father, so I'm not sure..." You try.

"Oh, I guessed as much. But this wasn't that kind of daddy." He places each of his hands on the sides of your waist, making you blush harder. "Your hips were absolutely reeling. I could hear how much you were loving it. You still smell like lust. So, I must know... who is the lucky one to have the title of 'daddy'?" Your face is burning. Your attempt to get out of this has definitely and utterly failed.

"I don't know! I've never even--" You cut yourself off, realizing that saying more is only playing into his game.

"Oh please, you must tell me." He leans over to whisper in your ear, curling over you in a seductive manner. "I'll keep it a secret, I promise. I just want to know who makes you writhe like that. Clearly I could learn something." This asshole. Your face actually hurts it's so hot. You can't get out of this, and you don't even have an answer for him. You've never even called anyone that before.

"Please, can I get up?" You beg, hoping it can just be over.

"Oh no, dear," You feel yourself screaming internally as he nuzzles his mask against the side of your face, "I can't let you do that. No, no... Not until you humor me." He presses his body into you, and you audibly whimper. "Call me daddy."

You're dead. You have to be dead. This can't be real. You can't humor him, but you have to humor him. Why is he like this? If you say it really fast, maybe it'll be okay. Maybe he'll accept it.

"Can I get up...?" You choke. "...daddy..." You didn't say it fast, but you said it with zero confidence, which hopefully dampens his power trip.

He throws himself off of you, laughing something fierce. His guffaw is loud, cruel, and pure delight. He's completely overtaken by it, laying back beside you, almost twitching in hilarity. He can't control himself as he lifts his hand as if to wipe away a tear.

He shuts down again, turning limp.

You jump out of bed, giving yourself distance from his metal sarcophagus, knowing whatever comes next might not be pleasant. You make your way to the computer desk, sitting on the office chair, waiting to see what he does this time.

His chassis begins to whirr and cracks into movement, his arms grabbing at air beside him as he tests every limb in violent bends and swings. The static begins in his voice, before suddenly slipping into something audible.

"You-you moved away." His empty optics seem to stare at you from a distance as he sits up. "I wanted to hold-hold you again..." His tone was soft, but his vocals were still skipping. "Shame, daddy will get you next-next time."

His eyes come back to life, and he's aware again.

"Well, just say how you really feel then, huh?" You jab back, waiting to see how he reacts. He chuckles a little, a mere echo of the laugh that forced him to restart.

"Well, I'll make it up to you. How do you feel about making a trip to meet my little family?"

"Family? I thought--"

"Oh, not like that, of course. Just the closest thing I have." He smiles smugly at you, seeing an opportunity. "You don't need to worry, no one competes with you."

Damn blush, you're going to turn red permanently if he doesn't stop.

He vaults out of bed, making his way over to you.

"I let you sleep in, thankfully what you're wearing is ideal for the job already." He offers his hand. When you take it, he hoists you to your feet. "It should help with any sad feelings too, how are those going by the way?"

"With how things have been going, I haven't had the chance to be depressed..." You're almost embarrassed that his plan to keep throwing you off your depression is working so well.

"Good, keep showering me with all your attention then." He squeezes your hand a bit before letting go. At this rate he could make you manic again if he keeps pushing it. You're just not sure if you should let him. "I've arranged a ride for us, since I don't think you can run this far."

"Oh, alright, sure. Do I need to do anything? I feel kinda like I should take a shower..." It's very strange that you're going someplace wearing dirty clothes with no shower.

"Trust me, you'd be better off doing that after."

• • • •

Revenant can't drive, apparently. To the point in which he's actually enough of a liability that he's not allowed to drive anywhere outside of the Apex Games. He wasn't very happy with the idea of having a chauffeur, but the legal team was able to convince him to accept being driven in exchange for a vehicle that separated him from the driver. That vehicle was a limo. A giant, stretch limo. A very luxurious limo. Versus you, who is a mess: dressed in a stained shirt you slept in and you haven't washed your hair. This is embarrassing.

"This dumb thing is almost ten yards long, and you have to be right up against me, don't you?" Revenant is sitting far in the back corner, and you've wedged yourself right between him and the corner, trying your best to hide yourself from any phantom that might see you.

"I'm in a limo and I look like I belong in a garbage truck." You duck away from the windows, shoving your face up against the black leather of his waist, careful to avoid the support pistons.

"Literally no one can see you except me." He scoffs, crossing his arms. "The windows are blacked out, the driver's privacy window is closed, and nobody is here but us." His eyes glare down at you, but he seems to be moderately entertained by your distress.

"I look homeless." You pause. "Again."

Revenant laughs at that, uncurling his arms to mess up your hair in some kind of adoring but condescending gesture.

"You're fine, trust me. Nobody is going to see you." He pauses from messing with your hair. "I have a stop coming up, just stay in here and I'll be back with some supplies."

"Be fast, I need to hide behind someone and you're the only one here." You're being intentionally dramatic, but if it makes him laugh it's worth it. He sighs equally as dramatically, clearly playing along.

The vehicle hovers to a stop, and Revenant wisps out the door, closing it behind him before you even get a sense for where you are. The windows really are blacked out, you can't see anything through them.

Now alone, you shrink into the back corner of the seats going around the vehicle. There's a television and what appears to be a loaded bar, multicolored LED lights lining the whole thing, and starlights in the ceiling. The seats are all made with beautiful leather and have a triangular pattern stitched in the surface. The floor has carpeted mats that feel a bit more plush than the average car. You consider rummaging through the bar, but you're not sure if anyone is going to charge you an arm and a leg for alcohol you can get cheaper anywhere else. You sigh and lean back, shrinking further in the seat.

The door on the opposite corner as you clicks open, and Revenant crawls in, dragging a massive green bag behind him, barely managing to get it in the car.

"Is that a body bag?!" You curl up in the fetal position on your seat, recoiling away from the door.

"Yes." He gruffly huffs as he drags the apparent bagged corpse into the limo, weighing the whole vehicle down. He gets it in the middle of the floor, then drops it with a thud and throws himself down beside you. With his weight, you feel like you nearly missed being crushed. His arm rests on your opposite shoulder and you shudder, giving him a concerned stare. "Oh shush, I paid for it."

"You what?" You whimper, completely at a loss of what you're experiencing.

"It'll be fine, I can't rightly show up without any offering." He shrugs his shoulders, pulling you closer. He seems to be very pleased with himself, smugly teasing you.

"Offering?! Is this a cult?!" You whisper aloud, not necessarily expecting an answer. He laughs again, enjoying your mental wheels spinning. The limo gets moving again, handling the extra weight very easily.

"Oh, no, that's for next time." He's obviously teasing now. "I'll make sure you're in a lovely white dress to soak in the blood of our sacrifices for that occasion." He shoves you up against his chassis, growling to rattle his torso against you. "Then, when we're all done, I'll make official my new nickname."

"Oh, fuck you." You let slip under your breath, causing him to guffaw openly again. He catches his synthetic breath, rubbing his mask in the same motion a human would.

"You've gotten so comfortable with me so quickly, what happened?" His question must be rhetorical, because he doesn't leave much of a pause for an answer. He jumps right back into teasing. "I'll have to tame you by any means necessary if you're going to keep being so temptingly coy." His hands cup around your waist and you crack a sigh, turning away from him, trying to focus on anything other than how red in the face you must be.

"Do you regularly flirt in front of fresh corpses?"

"Awww..." He grabs your chin and pulls your face back to meet his, bringing his visage down close enough to feel his breath. "Are you kink-shaming me? Or are you just being a prude little tease?" He pauses before snickering to himself, losing his flirtatious composure. "You're so red, you practically match me." His loss of composure is cute enough to get to you. You giggle a little.

The car comes to a gentle stop, and Revenant immediately gets to pulling the corpse out. The body bag is way larger than makes sense, it almost looks as if it could fit someone Revenant's size. Yet the body inside still seems way too big. You're not sure what it is, but you're a bit too afraid to ask at the same time. Revenant eventually gets the bag to the edge of the vehicle before throwing it over one of his shoulders, forcing his shoulder spikes to flip downward out of the way. He nearly topples over at the shifting weight, meaning whatever is in the bag is excessively heavy.

As you crawl out of the car after him, you smell the fresh air of being nowhere near civilization. You see lots of flat lands broken up by woods with a giant abandoned warehouse in front of you. The warehouse has holes rusted throughout its sides and the door is ajar, the hinges rusted so it no longer swings. The air is fresh, and you look around, unable to find signs of other humans close by. Revenant waves away the limo. It turns around, kicking up dust off the unpaved path before zooming off into the horizon. He waits until the limo is far enough before pulling you close.

"You have to listen to everything I say, understand?" He's dead serious. You nod, suddenly concerned over his change in tone. "Don't try to protect me, I'll be okay. Scream if and only if you feel pain." You search for any joking tone in his voice, but there is none. "But above all else, listen to me. Don't play stupid, just obey." He looks to you, demanding acknowledgement. You nod, determined and concerned at this new development.

He walks over to the door, making his way inside carefully as you follow. He throws the body bag on the concrete floor of the entryway, causing a morbid slapping sound as it hits the ground. Revenant kneels down and begins ripping the bag open. You take a moment to look around.

This whole warehouse is dark beyond belief. There seems to be different rooms, but the rusted-through holes in the wall allow you to get negligible peeks into nearby rooms. The roof has not decayed at all yet, but it means no light is entering the building, making the deeper rooms be cast in an oppressive darkness. From the outside this warehouse looked massive, this room must be only one of dozens. The silence is scary, there isn't a single sound of life apart from you and Revenant, but you know better. Silence means something doesn't want to be found, and is inevitably a sign of life. Silence only happens when a hunter has scared everything else into silence. You might have learned that from Bloodhound, but you can't be sure. Either way, it's anxiety-inducing.

Revenant stands tall, pulling the scraps of the bag away from a giant bisection of a carcass. It appears to be beef, in the same state butchers will sell to grocers or restaurants. It doesn't smell bad, but it definitely smells like raw meat. Revenant grabs you around the shoulder, pulling you into a very controlling embrace. He whistles, or something like it.

"C'mere puppies!" As soon as he says it, you hear the sound of many nails skittering around the concrete flooring, making their way to the room you're in. Revenant squeezes you close as the pack comes into sight.

"Revenant! Those are not dogs!" You can't help but whisper in shock as the pack stops in your line of sight, trying to get a read on whether you're a threat or not.

Prowlers are utterly terrifying predators. They can be described as something between a wild dog and a tiger with the hide of a dinosaur. Their quadrupedal forms stand tall enough to meet you eye-to-eye at the largest, but the females and younger prowlers come up to your waist or knees instead. This subspecies has a beautiful, peacock-like furl behind their ears that stand on end when they see you, making them look as kaleidoscopic as they are scary. Their fangs could make a saber tooth tiger swoon, and their colors remind you of the legendary Birds of Paradise. Their long tails flick back and forth in concern, trying to understand who you are or if they should fight you. The largest male growls so deeply that Revenant sounds like a kitten in comparison, and it approaches both of you ahead of the rest of the pack.

"Rev..." You start to step behind him. This creature could very easily kill you in a single bite to the neck, and he was already tall enough to reach it.

"Shush, listen to me." He whispers to you, using his grip around your back to shuffle you back in place and to his side, pulling you against him in an uncomfortable grip. "Hey Six, this is mine." He addresses the massive male prowler approaching you, almost presenting you to him.

You hold your breath as Six sniffs your face, neck, and chest, trying to figure out what you are and why you're here. The other prowlers begin to enter the room, not even paying attention to the food in preference of figuring out the newcomer. Six's tail begins to rise up, flicking the tip back and forth as he finds you acceptable as a guest. You receive a lick right on the face as a final assurance, and the other prowlers swarm you to meet you.

You grab onto Revenant like your life depends on it. All of these prowlers could kill you, probably even the young ones too. It doesn't matter if they're all flicking their tails happily, or panting with smiles and tongues out, or excitedly greeting you. They can kill you and you're painfully aware of it.

"Calm down, seriously. You were fine meeting me for the first time, but a bunch of little puppies scare you?" Revenant releases his hold on you, but you don't return the favor.

"These are not puppies!" You try to whisper at him, but he might not be able to hear you over the crowd you've attracted. He pushes down on your shoulders, causing you to lose your grip on him and fall into a sitting position. Now all the prowlers can meet you eye-to-eye or tower over you. You're inundated with licks, and no amount of guarding your face with your arms will save you.

"You'll be fine. They're my pack, and they'll respect what's mine." You can barely hear him over the assault of affection.

As the excitement begins to settle, some of the larger prowlers peter off to check out the meat, leaving the younger ones to look after you. A tiny pair of kits you didn't see before bound up to your lap and hop in, cuddling against your stomach. For such scary adults, the babies are unbearably cute. You're not sure if you can touch them or not, so you simply let them roll around in your lap, slapping at each other like the siblings they are. Six comes back to you, his maw covered in blood from the beef.

"I figured he'd notice." You hear Revenant mutter as Six inspects your arm and calf, licking at the puncture wounds a little. "I guess my hypocrisy was going to catch up eventually." Six carefully sniffs the skin before shooting a glare and deep growl at Revenant. "Don't move a muscle, no matter what." He instructs you.

Six lunges at Revenant's leg, catching the metal below the knee joint in his bite. Revenant buckles and hits the ground. You jump a little and whine to yourself, but you stay as reserved as you can otherwise. The kits notice and begin pawing at you, trying to understand your reaction. Six drags Revenant a few feet from you as Revenant makes stifled sounds reminiscent of excruciating pain. You want to step in, but you obey orders. You hear the moaning of the metal in his leg beginning to bend for a few moments, before Six releases him. Revenant sits up, grappling his leg before Six chomps the opposite arm near the shoulder, causing Revenant to try to reel away in shock and pain. Again, Six growls as the metal bends beneath his bite, Revenant taking the pain as best as he can. Six releases, gives a growling bark to Revenant, and returns to you to lick your wounds more.

"Oh, now aren't you just poetic." Revenant finally makes out between what sounds like heavy breaths. "You got me in the same places." He's cradling his calf and arm, in the exact same places and sides as you were hurt. "I knew I was going to pay for that, but you didn't have to be that literary about it."

Six turns to him and makes whining sounds that mimic human speech. You've heard of Siberian Huskies making these noises, but never prowlers. Either way, it sounds sassy, and Revenant seems to relax knowing he's back in good graces.

"Yes, I know I taught you the same lesson a long time ago, but still..." He talks to them like anyone would talk to their dog. "You didn't have to be that extra about it." Six flicks his head at him before returning to your wounds, the kits now back to play-fighting each other.

"So, yeah, these are my puppies." He finally addresses you again. Most of the other prowlers are now taking turns at the carcass, seemingly following a hierarchy. You want to correct him, but you don't. He's clearly going to keep insisting that they're puppies. "This is Six, he's the sixth alpha of a pack I've helped raise over the past few decades. Zero was the first prowler that accepted me, and One was his puppy--the first alpha."

Six retires from your wounds, taking the two kits from you to go eat with their mother.

"There's no way you can be depressed around these guys. If there's any creature more aware of the emotional state of other beings, I dare them to come forward. My pack is perfect." He genuinely sounds overjoyed that you're getting to meet them all, he seems very proud. "I even raised them to respect females... Even if that did bite me back today." He huffs a bit.

"So, wait, you've been raising prowlers out here for decades?" You finally make a sound, Six and a few others look over at you for a moment, surprised by your more relaxed voice.

"Yeah, although they're fairly independent. I'm more like an elder to them, rather than directly in their hierarchy. I bring them food, not that they need me to, and they come along with me when I need company or extra help." He scoots himself close to you, letting his damaged leg drag. You get a closer look and see that the metal is both punctured and buckled on both his arm and leg. "They've been a passion project of mine ever since I first met Zero. They make me feel a bit of humanity." That last sentence is spoken with a level of reverence. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"You know, this is probably a scientific breakthrough in some field that nobody has ever managed before. You have a wild pack of prowlers that accept you and the people you bring in." He seems surprised by your lavish praise. "This could change our understanding of prowlers forever."

"Well, it helps that I'm nigh unkillable," he knocks on his metal chest, making a banging sound, "and honestly you're allowed in because as far as they're concerned, you're my mate." He wraps his arm around you possessively as the kits crawl back into your lap, now well-fed and cuddly. "That's why they don't mind you around the little ones." He sees you eyeing them as they roll around, trying to get comfortable. He picks one up, holding it in his hands like it's a precious jewel. It yips at him for attention, so he scratches behind it's tiny furls with his spare hand. "I think this one will be Seven, unless the next litter has an even bigger boy."

His adoration for these predators is absolutely identical to how so many people feel about their pets. The choice to love prowlers is a bit unconventional, but he is very much a man stuck in a metal body--humanity intact--in these moments. You are growing increasingly fond of him, seeing something beautiful beyond the cruel simulacrum assassin you once knew. He catches you staring.

"Go ahead, pick her up." He gestures to the other kit in your lap, actually looking a little jealous of her brother. At first, you tremor at the thought of picking her up wrong, but a sudden wave of confidence comes from nowhere. You scoop her up in your arms, bringing her up to your chest and cradling her. She immediately begins to squirm with delight and lick at your hand as you rub her head and chin.

"Was that all instinct?" He pauses, and you tilt your head at him, confused by the question. "You were shaking, then suddenly you weren't. Is that what maternal instinct looks like?" You're a bit shocked he saw that much.

"I'm not sure. I'm not usually around babies of any kind." You confess, but now you suspect the same thing he does. The baby female prowler reaches for your face, barely managing to touch your chin before you lower your face to meet her. She reacts with tiny licks on your nose while you tickle her belly. Revenant is the one staring now.

Revenant places the baby male in your arms next to the female, allowing them to both vie for your coveted attention. Some of the females come over and snuggle up next to you, laying on and around you, while the males and Six lie next to Revenant. Revenant leans back, eventually resting his head on the flank of one of the larger males, while another rests its head on his shoulder.

"You should lie down, let the puppies run around." He instructs you, briefly pointing to the kits in your arms. "Your body isn't heavy enough to bother anyone, just lay on whoever seems the most comfortable."

You look around, seeing a lot of intimidating warm bodies around you, so you cheat and carefully lay under Revenant's arm. You hear him audibly sigh, bothered that you're still worried but unable to chide you. The kits use you to crawl up on Revenant and slide down his metal torso to the other side, Six audibly purring when they land in his vicinity. Maybe a prowler would make a better pillow than a newly busted up metal arm and the concrete floor. You shiver a bit at the sheer power of these creatures, running your fingers over the metal holes in Revenant's arm, causing him to wince away from your touch.

"Does it hurt?" You whisper, hoping not to draw any prowler's attention.

"Yeah, it hurts a lot. My body can feel pain just like you skinsuits." He inhales in distress as you pull your fingers away from the damage. "It honestly feels like the flesh and muscle is torn off, like the bone is crushed and splintered, and like I'm bleeding out on the ground. But I know it's not real. It's never real."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen." You pull yourself into more of a ball, shuddering at the thought of that level of pain.

"It's not your fault, I instilled this level of protectiveness into them." Revenant pulls his arm away as one of the female prowlers crawls over you and lays on top of you, purring as if to comfort you. "Anyone who hurts one of the girls gets it back sevenfold." You roll onto your back, the prowler readjusting to lay on your belly, purring and licking your neck. "So you can stop being sad about it. They can sense it in you. If you don't want the attention, you can't let yourself be distressed." He sits up, looking down at you smugly while a second prowler writhes across the ground to get close enough to lick your cheek. Are these creatures really this intuitive?

Six notices Revenant sitting up to watch you and meanders over to see the small commotion. Six shoves himself between you and Revenant, apparently sensing some kind of disagreement. Six positions his paws on your neck, allowing you to feel the enormous size of his claws. One flex and you're dead. These things must be three inches of blade, all with a hypodermic tip. Six turns his head to Revenant and makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a growl before shoving his snout against your ear to purr. He bares his fangs while doing so, allowing you to feel how long and menacing they are. You wince away from him, pushing your face into the other prowler's licks, but Six just shoves his snout further to reconnect with you.

"He seems to think I should be more comforting, you're way too nervous for his liking. Good luck being depressed now." He sounds like he's enjoying this, shrugging to himself before he places his hand on your free arm. "Just calm down, they're not going to hurt you."

"I could die from a single flick of the wrist." You carefully say, feeling your vocal chords vibrate against Six's massive nails.

"That doesn't stop you from getting close to me." His hand glides up and down your arm. You don't have a response for him, so you stay quiet. "Like I said, just scream at any discomfort and someone is getting a swift dose of justice." He lies back on the same prowler as before, changing his position to avoid disrupting Six.

"I can't scream if my throat is slit."

"Give it time, you'll understand."

• • • •

Three prowlers is apparently the amount it takes to bring back a stick. It can be more if the stick is longer, but this giant branch is the maximum size you can throw. They hop together, all their jaws in a line across the branch, their fangs clutched around the wood. They carefully drop it at your feet, waiting expectantly for you to try throwing it again. You do your best to throw it, but between your injured arm and the weight of it, you struggle to get it as far as you'd like. The area behind the warehouse is a small yard with enough room for fetch, surrounded by thick forests over a few small hills.

"You throw like a child." You hear Revenant mock you, and you turn around to shoot him a glare. Six is resting in his lap and he has the mother prowler at his side, accepting the belly rubs he offers while the kits sleep. "I can throw farther than you from here, without even standing." You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably right.

Two new prowlers got in on the stick this throw, bounding back to you for another throw. You have eight prowlers all fighting to be one of the three on the stick, but they all seem to be having fun. Four of the young adults are off in the woods playing tug of war by themselves, making a total of sixteen prowlers you've now met. This pack is unusually huge from what little you know. You wonder if Revenant's meddling has something to do with it.

You pick up the branch and drag it over to Revenant, curious to see if he'll back up his claim.

"Alright, go for it." You hand him the end of the branch, and he chucks it far enough to lob over the entire yard and land somewhere in the woods. He snickers as the pack disappears in the darkness after it. You watch, hearing the branch collide with the trees, making rustling and snapping sounds as it catches in them. "So, what if you just got it stuck in a tree?"

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to show off for you." Revenant coos sarcastically. "Give them a few minutes, they can climb." You sigh and shrug, waiting for any sign of them coming back. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh, oh!? You aren't scared of my puppies anymore?" He says between chuckles.

"Shut it." You growl at him, finally getting to use his catch-phrase against him.

"Are you sure? It's getting late." It was beginning to be late in the afternoon, coming up on when you'd normally be wanting dinner. In truth you hadn't eaten in over a day, but depression made it so you never wanted to eat anyway. You'd been playing with his prowlers for hours now, fully accepted by them. You now felt pretty confident in your safety around them, but their stature was still a bit menacing.

"At least let me see if they can bring back that stick." You hear some rustling in the woods, before the eight prowlers burst out of the brush with the original branch and a second, equally massive one. Now only two are left out of being able to hold a part of a stick. They drop both at your feet.

You try to throw the first but it only makes it a short ways, all the prowlers fighting for it. You hand the second to Revenant, and he throws it back into the woods completely out of sight. They all abandon the first stick in preference for the farthest one.

"Maybe you should be doing this." You hunch over, a bit defeated and tired.

"You're doing fine. Anyways, we should wrap up soon. You probably need that shower and I have something I need to do before tomorrow." Revenant starts to get up, prompting Six to get off of him while huffing and shaking himself awake. "Also, you need food."

You sigh, wanting to argue but knowing you can't.

"I'm calling back your ride. We need to get all these guys hidden in the warehouse as to not cause any alarm." He pulls some kind of cellular device out of his pocket on his belt and presses a few buttons. He then proceeds to shuffle you back towards the warehouse, prompting Six, the mother, and the two kits to follow. As you get to the side entrance, Revenant turns around and emits another whistling sound, inundated with his usual modulated twinge. He steps inside with you and the other twelve prowlers come flooding in behind him.

He pets each of them as they make their way in, saving Six and the kits for last. He really does love these creatures. You sheepishly and carefully pet Six as you go to leave, but only because he demands it by butting his head into your hand to make it clear.

Finally, you step outside with Revenant, going towards the dirt road that got you here.

"You look like absolute hell." Revenant jabs. You pull your hair back and try to control it a bit better, but it refuses to cooperate. It's probably stuck from all the prowler saliva all over you, hair absolutely included. Not to even mention your shirt and pants look like you got tackled and ground into the dirt by an entire rugby team. Your shirt was already stained, now it's dusty, dirty, stained, and has green grass streaks. Your shoes are probably just as bad, but they're cheap sneakers so you don't really care much.

"I know, I really need a shower. Maybe two." You give up on your hair. It's just going to be a mess.

"Take as long as you need. I'll be back soon after you. I hope you don't mind riding back alone." You've made it to the dirt road, and you can see the excessively luxurious limo in the distance, kicking up dirt.

"You're not coming?"

"No, I have one last thing to do before the match tomorrow. It'll be worth it, and I think you'll like it too." Revenant seems like he won't budge on the matter.

The limo pulls up and he opens the door for you, and you crawl in alone, making sure you stay as far in the corner as possible. You don't really like the thought of being in here alone, but you have no choice in the matter. He shuts the door and you lose sight of him through the blacked-out windows. The limo starts to move, making a sharp turn and hitting high speeds over the terrain, probably kicking up tons of dust in the meantime. You have nothing to stare at, so you just curl up to yourself and wait to make it back.

"You seem a bit meek for this kind of work, kid." You hear a masculine voice with a skeezy city accent coming from the front of the limo. The privacy window is cracked, just enough so you can hear him, but thankfully not enough so you can see each other. Why was that rolled down at all? It wasn't on the way here. You turn away, refusing to answer, hoping he will leave you be.

"Heh, exactly." You hear him chuckle. You wish you had the guts to just waltz over and roll up the window on him, but you're neither that confident nor strong enough if it ends in a spat. You just let him continue. "Heck, I didn't think robots were even into that stuff, but he seems to be the 'specially fucked-up type." Your stomach sinks like an anchor as you hear what sounds like the draw of a cigarette. "Fucker practically gets off every time he guts someone on live TV. Makes perfect sense he'd get off 'tuh victimizin' some tiny doll like you."

You get the picture, and you feel sick to your stomach for it. You can't respond, every word you want to say gets caught in your throat and you're forced to swallow it. This guy might be unhinged; a lot of people are these days. If you try to argue, he might try something. If you try to play it off... who are you kidding? You could never play this one off. It sounds so bad. Is he going to try to hurt you? Or is this all some mind game?

"Does it hurt? You sure as hell look like you've been through a meat grinder." You feel your face turn red. You turn further away from the cracked window. "Oh, I bet it does. No way 'woulda giant metal psycho like that hold back on a little thing like you."

He won't stop. He's clearly only getting started, but you hope that this is the worst of it.

"Question is: are you a hostage or does he really pay you that well? You know, sweetheart, if you're in need of money, just record whatever the hell he does to 'ya and sell it on the internet." He starts laughing as you internally beg for him to shut up. "All sorts of fucked up dudes would pay for the privilege. You could make absolute bank! Even better if you let him cut you open a bit for the cameras while you scream." He's really laughing now, clearly getting off to how much he has you cornered.

"Everyone loves a good screamin' bitch. Anyone who says they don't is a liar. But you know that, don't 'ya toots?" His use of centuries-old misogynistic slang somehow makes everything worse. You feel yourself shake a bit as you hold yourself tighter. Your stomach hurts badly from the distress now, and you feel yourself spiral internally. Where is this going? Can you outrun this guy if you need to? What if he catches you? Can you squirm out of this guy's grasp? "God, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall while that's going on. I bet your tears only make him harder."

You want to scream, but your prey instincts refuse to let you move or make a sound in hopes that he simply forgets you're there. You can't help yourself but hold your breath in intervals, hoping to be even more silent, but in turn making you more light-headed and fearful.

"I bet there's lots of filthy bastards that would pay extra to have his sloppy seconds." You're absolutely nauseated at the thought of that, but you haven't eaten, so maybe it's just a stomach ulcer forming from the extreme stress. "I bet he's modded to absolutely ruin you, isn't he? Tear your insides up and fill you until you're overflowin', right? You look like he never gives you a day off." You pray, begging God to kill you--this is worse than death.

"So, if he's draggin' 'ya all the way out into the woods to fuck 'ya, it must be pretty messed up stuff, huh?" You lay your face in your hands. "Aww, don't cry babe, I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't want a hole in my chest, anyhow." You want to disappear. You hope he crashes the car and you die in a fire. You hate everything about this. "If you're ever in need of an extra kick of cash though, I wouldn't mind a taste of 'ya. Or buyin' one of those tapes."

You break internally. It feels like the essence of every muscle snaps in your body, and the tears flow without even intending to. You suddenly have the courage to move, but only to move a few inches to cower deeper in the corner of the seats.

It's not worth it. None of this is worth it. You no longer hear anything he says, even though you can still hear his voice. It sounds like you're underwater, so you can't make out the words anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Unfortunately, you can still make out your own thoughts, and they're all cruel. It's all cruel. Everything about this situation is cruel.

You focus on the tears hitting your hands. They're cold, and they quickly flow out of your palms and down your arms before dripping off your elbows. They leave a trail of salts down your arm so thin you can barely notice it. You don't even feel compelled to make a sound as you cry; it's not that type of sorrow. It's pure humiliation, and your lungs work calmly as your eyes drown instead.

You wish you could just be swallowed by the swell of your own pain. Death is something you think about often as a potential solution to every problem, but right now it feels like a drug you're in active withdrawal from. Like you need it, right here, right now. You want to imagine the limo crashing into an embankment wall, submerging into an ocean, or being hit by a train. You don't care if the creep dies or not, all you know is you want out. The world feels cold enough to sap every degree of heat from you, and you feel as if you're freezing both literally and figuratively.

You fester in the feelings. The only saving grace in this situation is that you're too unimportant to matter to anyone as anything other than an easy squeeze. Nobody will miss you if you die. No one will look for you if you disappear. No family will mourn you. You secretly hope this pervert doesn't know that too, otherwise you might not make it out of this unscathed. You hope he believes Revenant will run him through if he tries to abduct you. You'd rather not die like that, something faster and more violent would be preferred.

Would Revenant kill you? In any circumstance at all? He could make it quick and violent, but he might not want to at this point. He seems to like you more by the day, but now that scares you. Is he human enough to feel strongly about you? Or does he tend to fall back on his programming? Maybe he would like gutting you--then at least someone could enjoy your death. You think about it, but you cannot imagine it without there being some kind of regret thrown in on your or his end. You can only imagine goading him into it by aggressively attacking his emotional stability, which is something you'd regret. Otherwise, you cannot imagine him killing you for no reason and being regret-free afterwards. You don't want him to feel regret. You just want to be free without hurting anyone, but maybe that's unrealistic.

The vehicle comes to a gentle stop. Your brain kicks into survival mode and you immediately rush for the door, not giving the driver any chance to get out of his seat, let alone open the door for you. He is still talking but you don't care; he's only laughing at you anyway. You get the door open and thankfully you're not at some back alley motel, but the main Apex Games facility. It's the back entrance, but you'll take it. It might be a blessing anyway, since it's so close to Revenant's new room that you'll likely avoid all human contact. You get up to the door and fumble in your pocket for your ID card, finally getting it out. You hear the driver say some more heinous things, but you refuse to turn around to see his face. The card is accepted and you rush in.

• • • •

The water is as hot as you can tolerate. It burns your skin and is downright uncomfortable to wash yourself in. Even as you curl up on the shower floor, crying and tolerating the hottest water you can handle, nothing can truly wash off the overwhelming feeling of being violated. Nothing can wash off the depression, the feelings of insignificance, the intrusive suicidal ideations, or the fear of meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things while simultaneously meaning just enough to force you into living.

The floor of the shower is warm, but it's still uncomfortable to lay on. The water spray hitting your skin is the only comfort you feel, but it isn't enough to quell you. The soap slowly rinses off your body, and the lathered up shampoo slowly flows out of your hair and down the drain. You'll eventually rinse completely like this, but it will be a while longer. How long has it already been? You took a long time sitting on the shower floor to even find the energy to get the soap lathered on you, and even that process was slow. Now you've been back on the floor and letting the soap slowly come off as you sob. Revenant might be back by now, but you're not sure what his errand was exactly. Maybe it will take all night. Does it matter? Do you matter? The thoughts won't stop.

You just cry. You cry until it feels like your soul starts to leave your body. Maybe it does. Between the heat, the steam, and the exhaustion, you pass out.

• • • •

"Skinsuit!" You feel yourself being gently jostled, still on the shower floor. The water is off, but the steam is so thick you question how long it's been. Your skin is beginning to get wrinkled from all the water absorption, so it's been a while. You're facing away from him, and you don't have the energy to turn to him. You don't even have the energy to speak. You just play the corpse, hoping that faking it will cause you to make it.

Revenant withdraws, and you hear rapid shuffling behind you. It sounds like he grabs the towel you had hung for yourself, running in and out of the bathroom to grab other things. You care about how he feels--he sounds distressed--but not for yourself. Why does he care at all, though? How does he feel about all this, anyway?

"Come here, little skinsuit. Everything is fine." You feel his arms scoop under you, and your natural instinct is to resist the hard synthetics against your bare skin. You wince a little, but mostly keep your corpse-like state: eyes closed and body limp. He carries you out of the bathroom where the air is freezing, but also not inundated with enough water vapor to nearly asphyxiate you. Weirdly enough, his chest isn't cold, but actually has something like fur? You don't open your eyes, you're probably just imagining it.

He places you down on a towel on the bed, immediately throwing another equally large towel over you. You're still cold, but it's way more tolerable with something over you. You hear Revenant mumbling in some kind of panic to himself, but you still can't find the energy to console him. You hear some typing on his computer, then the chair gets shoved out from under him as he stands in a huff. You hear your duffle bag unzip and likely some of your clothes be tossed on the bed near your head.

"You better not be mad at me for this..." He sounds unsure of that himself before you feel his hands start to dry you off through the towel. It would be nice if it didn't feel so wrong. Even if it is through a towel, you're naked otherwise. The thought of what the driver said hits you, and you immediately begin to feel anxiety and shake against your will. He reacts by scooping you up and hugging you, still wrapped in a towel, trying to stop the shaking.

"Dammit, what's going on?" You hear him whisper, he doesn't seem to realize you're awake and aware.

More fur. Why is there fur? Also, why does it feel like there's something resting on your head? It's way too large to be his chin. His chest feels smaller too, and it feels like some type of plastic rather than metal. The more you feel the more questions you have, and the more you panic at the realization that you do not know this simulacrum. You reach your limit and perk up in his arms, opening your eyes, and silently gasping as you reel back from whoever the heck this is.

"Wait! Skinsuit! It's me!" He manages to hold your arms before you can fully pull away, and you meet eyesight with a chassis you do not recognize. He has a huge, artificial bovine skull with curling ram horns situated on top. Instead of his scarf, his new face is framed in a mane of deep bark-colored fur, matted into locks like a proper wild animal. The optics tucked inside his skull seem so much larger than his normal ones, and they're a brilliant blueish-white, unlike his normal yellow ones. His snout is long enough to have been what was sitting on your head. His body looks to be made much thinner, especially in the chest, and is clearly made with more plastics than metals. It looks significantly lighter. His arms are red with odd, jagged juts on them, but seem to have similar hand mechanics otherwise. His loincloth is replaced with another long patch of fur, as well as fur on his thigh plates. His legs look a lot more decorative, and his feet are scarier: detailed down to each individual talon. His feet actually look much more like the hands on his other chassis.

"Skinsuit?" You snap out of your trance at his voice. You must have been staring him up and down for a while. "Uh, here." He pulls the towels back over you, which had fallen off when you pulled away. He reaches out to touch you, but stops short in case you aren't all there yet. "It's me, I'm just in a special body for tomorrow. I didn't mean to scare you." He's speaking slowly and methodically; his fingers make contact with your hand, but don't go further. "You must have fainted in the shower. You haven't been eating enough, but don't worry, everything's okay now."

Your head starts to throb and you instinctively go to hold it, the stress of the situation is too much. Even though he's trying to be reassuring, he looks like some kind of robotic, big-horned, undead goat demon and honestly you just wanted to see a familiar face to go with the familiar voice. You're not scared now that you know it's him, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Since you don't know this new chassis, you find it hard to trust his comfort. It's weird. Any other time you'd be overjoyed to see him in something that looks so cool, but now you're looking for some semblance of normalcy.

"How do you feel?" His right hand moves again to rest on your knee, intentionally avoiding pushing any boundaries. You can't answer, you still can't speak. It gets caught in your throat despite your best intentions, and instead your words turn into a new burst of tears and sobs. Without thinking, you take his hand off your knee and pull it to your face, sobbing into it. He seems relieved at your acceptance, and tries his best to catch and wipe away the tears as they flow. He shuffles as if to hug you, but he stops, likely unsure of how you feel when you're essentially in nothing but two loosely wrapped towels.

"I'm sorry, I thought seeing my pack would help, but I should have realized you haven't been eating enough. It's not something I've had to pay attention to in centuries." Your heart hurts as he seems to take the blame himself. "I also didn't mean to scare you again... I promise I'm not planning on hurting you." You want to speak so badly, but you just cry harder instead. None of this is his fault. Literally none of it. The only reason you're so jumpy is because everything that pervert said has sent you into a spiral. You imagined Revenant hurting you for his own entertainment and pleasure, and this imaginary smoking gun has left you very gun-shy.

"I ordered food for you to be delivered to the room. I expect you to eat something, even if it's not much. I don't want you dying on me." You push his hand into your face, trying to dry the tears. "I ordered a lot. I'm not sure what you like." You nod to affirm you hear him and plan to try, even though you're too nauseous to be hungry at the moment.

He uses his free hand to grab the clothing he pulled from your bag and puts it in front of you. He probably wasn't thinking too hard when he picked things out, but an oversized tee and men's basketball shorts are as comfy as it gets, so he did fine in your book. He left out undergarments, but honestly you couldn't care less at this point. Whatever covers you is fine. You pull his hand away from your face and place it on the bed gently. You grab the shirt, and he immediately turns away to let you put it on. You're able to throw it on along with the shorts in a few seconds, and quickly retrieve his hand when done. He turns back, maintaining the boundaries he interpreted.

"Any better?" He wipes away a few trailing tears now that you've slowed down a lot. You nod, still not sure how your voice is doing.

There's a knock on the door and Revenant pulls away gently to go get it. You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

"I've got enough Chinese for like, five people. Who is even in this room? Are y'all having a sleepover in the abandoned room? To be fair I'd do the sa--"

Revenant opens the door and Sherry has a long pause to look up at the recipient. She doesn't even notice you, but you see her put the bags on the floor slowly and take a step back, hands up defensively.

"Okay, so it's a demon summoning, my bad..." Her sass is ever present. "And here I made the mistake of thinking I was running into some normal kind of fun."

"Sherry!" Your voice cracks back into action and the perfect moment. She shoots a look past Revenant to see you.

"You're summoning demons now?! Did you dump the tinman and summon an incubus as a bounce back or something?!" She looks up at Revenant, still not sure who it is. "Also, do demons really like Chinese food this much?"

"Sherry, shut up! I need a hug!" The tears are coming back, and Sherry valiantly slips under Revenant's arm to run to you. Revenant seems to be in complete shock at her brazenness, but also unwilling to stop her since you invited her in. He picks up the bag of food instead and brings it in, setting it on the television stand. Sherry leaps into a hug and you accept it graciously. Sherry is the closest thing you have to a sister and you could use someone like her right now. Revenant sits in the computer chair, watching you embrace closely, but not speaking or interfering.

"Where's the Revenant guy? What happened? Did he dump you? Did you run away? Who is this guy?" She immediately starts getting to brass tacks mid-hug. Although with her the hug won't end until you stop crying anyway.

"That is Rev, Sherry. It's just a different body." You manage to get out. She shoots Revenant a discerning look before slowly recognizing the similarities.

"Oh, hey, you're right. My bad, mister murder robot... haha..." She trails off nervously, Revenant only responding with a grunt and a huff. Suddenly, she snaps back into a fiery disposition. "Wait! Did you do something to her, you doofy-lookin' Beelzebub knockoff?! You may be able to gut me, but I'll defend her honor to my grave!" Now you're hugging Sherry to hold her back from trying to start something.

"It was a complete accident. I wasn't keeping track of how much she's been eating and I didn't catch her starving herself; plus I didn't expect this body to scare her as much as it did." Revenant doesn't lose an aggressive posture, but his words are fairly soft and empathetic.

"It's not that! I promise, it's not any of that!" You hug Sherry hard enough that she winces, but sensing your desperation she holds you tighter and pulls your head into her chest with no regard for what that may look like. You're glad you don't have those kinds of feelings for Sherry, otherwise this might be a bit strange. You see Revenant cock his head to the side and his eyes sharpen at the sight.

"It was the ride back, alone. That stupid driver was--" you choke, you hate saying these words out loud, "--a perverted bastard. An absolute dog." It comes out and devolves into a half-sob, thankfully still understandable. You start to cry again, reliving the things he said, not sure how you'd ever be able to say them yourself, even just to explain what happened.

"What happened? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?!" Sherry barely contains her concerns, if at all, squeezing you as you cry.

Revenant stands very slowly and methodically out of the chair, and begins to make some kind of animalistic growl you've never heard him make in your life. He paces back and forth, slowly stifling his growl as he goes. Sherry seems a bit concerned by him, but she continues to try to comfort you, awaiting an answer.

It takes almost a full minute to catch your breath again and be able to speak again, but you do.

"He didn't touch me. He just said things that--" Back to sobbing. You thought too far ahead and started to repeat his words again to yourself.

Despite your crying, Sherry sighs in relief, significantly less tense than before. She starts to rock you in her hug and you go along with it. Revenant's intensity only seems to worsen. He paces faster for a few moments as you cry, before he calms himself down enough to approach the situation.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and Sherry, currently latched on to each other. He doesn't attempt to pull you apart, he simply waits patiently. He's completely calm and collected now, with no signs of previous rage apparent, but you're sure it's still there.

"What kind of things did he say?" Sherry asks kindly, no sense of urgency in her voice. She plays with your hair a bit, which might as well be one of the greatest feelings in the world. It might be just distracting enough for you to get it out.

"He said he wanted to buy tapes..." You inhale heavily trying to hold back the inevitable runny nose. "...of Revenant cutting into me and... using me." Sherry gasps through her nose in disgust, but squeezes you tighter in response.

"I'm sorry, that's terri--"

"He said I should sell myself afterwards, that people would like me better if I still had... stuff... inside me." You cut her off but you're not done. Sherry is starting to get tense, but more notably, so is a particular simulacrum only a few feet away. "He said he wanted to watch it all! And try me for himself, too." That's all you needed to say, you're back to sobbing and Sherry starts to cry with you, unable to help her empathy. You're latched on to each other trying to comfort one another, but instead both of you are just a sobbing mess.

Revenant sits, lifeless for a moment, before standing up and limping towards the door.

"Revenant!" You call out to him through tears, and he stops and turns towards you, revealing his eyes are voids. He's in reboot. "Don't kill anyone." You try to sound confident, but you're not sure how it comes out. He turns away again, and limps out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't acknowledge what you said, but you hope he heard you.

Sherry perks up, wiping away her own tears and pulling away for a moment.

"Do you think he'll listen?" Sherry seems stressed.

"I hope so."

• • • •

"So, he's actually an average person, stuck in a body that drives him to be a bloodthirsty assassin via software?" Sherry asks, taking another bite of the sweet and sour chicken.

"As far as I can tell, yeah... Wait, did you not know what a simulacrum was before now?"

"I meant to look it up but I never did. I figured it was like a brand-name or something." She giggles at herself, but you sense there's a chance she may be joking. "So, you actually do really like this spindly metal guy, after all? And he's so much older! You have mature tastes." She goes straight to teasing, now that you're feeling a bit better.

"I didn't say anything about that, ma'am." You stare at the General Tso's chicken in front of you, not sure if you can eat a third piece. You still feel wrong somehow.

"You don't have to. I think he likes you too. I mean, he isn't wearing your innards as a scarf. For him, that's something." She prods.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know." You don't know how to convince her without potentially telling her something Revenant wouldn't want you to.

"Sure, he just kills people on live TV for the paycheck." She shrugs. "Oh! And maybe killing some pervert who sexually harassed you right now."

"I didn't tell him to do that!" You snap, you legitimately don't want to have even a drop of that blood on your hands. Sure, this guy was an absolute creep, but he didn't lay hands on you. That's your limit, and he didn't cross it. He isn't as bad as Forge. That guy did cross the line. He crossed a lot of lines.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset." Sherry sounds genuine. You sigh.

"It's okay, I really hope he's just running off some steam. I hope he knows most of my distress was just depression winning." You poke the chicken.

"That's not true, I would have been so scared too. I mean, you were in real danger. It's a miracle you held it together at all, I'm not sure I could have. I still can't believe--"

The door swings open and Revenant walks in, stopping all conversation in its tracks. He's hunched forward, looking somewhat disappointed.

"I hope you're happy. He'll live." He looks you dead in the eyes, waiting for your reaction.

You smile openly, glad he heeded your request.

"Everyone in his contacts now has a copy of the encrypted files on his computer, all decrypted for their viewing pleasure." He breaks eye contact with you. "At least one of them is sure to call the feds when they see their inbox tomorrow."

"Oh geeze, he was that kind of creep?" Sherry exclaims out loud, still eating chicken.

"Oh yeah, he's been collecting a lot of really rare porn. Honestly, I wish you'd have just let me kill him so I didn't have to expose myself to that." You feel a little guilty that he had to dig through it, it explains why he looks so dejected.

"I'm sorry..." You can't help yourself, you feel bad when he seems upset about anything.

"How much have you eaten?" He seems to have noticed how full your box of chicken still is.

"Two pieces of chicken, and maybe one piece of broccoli." Sherry rats you out with a cruel grin on her face.

"Snitch!" You shoot back at her. She closes her box with a mischievous smirk, hops up, and starts to leave.

"Nice to meet 'ya, you synthetic Wendigo! Have fun and be safe, you two!" She slips past Revenant quickly and is out of the door, skipping down the hallway as the door slowly shuts behind her. Revenant watches her leave with some mix of confusion and concern. You turn to reassure him.

"She's fine. She won't say anything. She--"

"Clearly is some kind of competition for me. I mean, she held you like you two were bonded for life." He's immediately free to tease you with her gone. Thank goodness Revenant seems too shy to gang up on you with her; that would be untenable. He throws himself down next to you where Sherry once was. "I want that same kind of bond." He barely touches your chin with his claws, being sure to growl the last bit out loud.

You emit a whining noise, paralyzed by the thought. You're a bit more sensitive to it all at the moment, considering the events of the day. Revenant notices your struggle and pulls back, reverting to his demanding style.

"Eat your food. I didn't intend for your girlfriend to run off with a free meal and you not eat anything." It still feels weird coming from his new body, but you're getting used to it.

"She's just a good friend, that's all. And I was just too busy talking to eat, I still don't feel great though." You poke at the food, it's lukewarm by now but that isn't your main objection to it. You just don't feel like eating.

"Oh, so we aren't close enough yet for that kind of affection? I'll fix that soon enough." His voice hums. You sigh.

"Oh please," You pet his snout and he seems to enjoy it, getting him off your case for a bit, "Not right now, harass me later. If you want me to eat anything, you can't be doing this." He really seems to enjoy the snout rubs.

"Alright, fine, you eat, I'll talk." You pull your hand away and focus more on the food. "I have quite a number of these special chassis to myself, all kinds of designs and colors and other nonsense. These are my special occasion outfits, per sé." You nod, it makes sense. "This one, as well as many others, are modded to the brim with all sorts of fun additions." He touches his snout, noting where you pet it. "I can feel every single aspect of this suit, even those that don't conform to the human shape. Even better, it's neural processors are exponentially faster, meaning everything feels much more vivid and vibrant." He pulls his fingers to the nasal cavity. "I have an entire set of cores that do nothing but olfactory processing, so I get to be the better Bloodhound while I wear it." His fingers fall to his jaw. "This luxurious suit even gets a jaw with clamping power, canine teeth to snag whatever I want, and a synthetic tongue to taste the blood I spill." He starts to snarl his words as he pulls open his jaw to show you his mouth. He points to his horns next. "These things? Silicone carbide sections with rubber impulse reducers between." You stare at him with a look of minor confusion, so he clarifies. "I can headbutt a skull into fragments without even leaving a dent in my own." You wince at the thought. "Not to even mention the use of polyethylenes instead of metals in the body with support weights in the limbs makes it so I can move faster than ever but still hit just as hard. Not to even mention all the modifications below the neck. You'll see how much I destroy in tomorrow's match. I will win, I promise you that."

"Wanna bet?" You're happy with how confident he is, but you can't help but want to start something.

"And what do I have that you could possibly want?" Revenant asks the opposite of what you expect him to. Isn't the question usually posed the opposite way? You close up your leftovers and start going over to the kitchenette to put it in the fridge.

"Well, I wouldn't mind money or just hanging out with the prowlers again. I could put money on it too, just not enough to make it worth your while. Did you have something in mind?" The fridge is nearly empty, spare for that water bottle and liquor. You throw the box down on a shelf, close the door, and plop down on the couch in a lying position.

"So, if I don't win, I have to take you to see my puppies again, or give you money. Neither of those are objectionable to me, but when I win I get to take something instead?"

"Yeah, that's how I'm framing it. The extra motivation can't hurt. I just don't know what you'd want. I have some savings, but--"

"Forget the money, I don't exactly have much need for it and I have tons anyway. What I want..." He pauses for a moment as his voice turns sinister. "...is to hear you call me 'daddy' again while I take a piece of you." He seethes with a sadistically erotic tone.

You stare into space, your face must be red again.

"C'mon skinsuit, it's not every day I'm in one of my few suits with the proper equipment for it." He's loving the look on your face, undoubtedly. He's acting like this is a cruel joke, but... How far would he take this joke, though? Better yet, how far will you force him to take it? You still feel ill at ease about the idea, but you're suddenly angry enough to buck off the shame.

"Alright, fuck you but sure." Probably the ballsiest thing you've ever said in your life.

Revenant is caught off guard for a moment, his eyes dimming until they're nearly off, freezing in a somewhat shocked motion. After a few moments, you hear him slowly return as he laughs out loud. He has trouble containing himself, and goes to rub his mask again.

"You're insane, but I love that." He finally contains his laughter. "Your friend, what's her name?"

"Sherry." Weird change in subject but okay.

"Who's her favorite?"

"Wattson."

"Oh, perfect. I'll send a special request for her to keep you company during the match. I want you both to watch. I got my assigned team not long ago." He stands up from the edge of the bed and meanders over to the couch you're on, looming over you.

"Oh, are you with Wattson?"

"And Wraith. It's perfect for what I have planned." He never did explain what his plan was that day he dragged you all over the arena. "Loba's little triumph will pale in comparison to my massacre."

"Try not to make it too--"

"It will be bloody, gory, and brutal. Sorry little skinsuit, but you used up your pardon." He chides you from above before reaching down to help you up. "Now come, I need to warm something."

You stand up, a bit confused by his request, until he pulls you into a hug and you feel how strangely warm his body is. You're a bit taken aback at first, but you slowly ease into him and the warmth he offers.

"Luxurious, isn't it?" You feel his chest rattle into a purring sound as he cradles your head against his warm chest. "I like it too." He gently pulls you away from the couch before leading you to the bed.

You don't protest, you just crawl into bed and shuffle to the middle, making plenty of room for him to follow. You see the lights flick off, then feel his warmth press up against your back, cradling you completely. His snout rests on your shoulder, breathing into your ear. It's comforting, something you really needed after today.

"Thanks, Rev." You barely manage to whisper. He huffs in your ear as affirmation before you fall asleep.