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#I would do the same thing and then be in the future and realize I probably fucked up but also what else could I do but
kimberly-spirits13 · 2 days
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Break Ups and Make Ups
Jason Todd x reader
Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty
Word Count: 3233
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Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 
That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 
                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 
                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.
                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.
                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 
                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”
                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.
                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 
                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.
                  “It’s none of your business.” 
                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”
                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.
                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 
                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 
                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”
                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.
                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 
                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 
                  “Where’s Y/N?” 
                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”
                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 
                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.
                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.
                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.
                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”
                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”
                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”
                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.
                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said
                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”
                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,
                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 
                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 
                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 
                  “What do you have?” You asked.
                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”
                  “He never told me about that.” 
                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 
                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”
                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.
                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 
                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 
                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.
                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 
                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 
                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 
                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.
                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 
                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”
                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 
                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 
                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 
                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.
                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.
                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”
                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 
                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 
                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 
                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.
                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 
                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    
                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 
                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 
                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.
                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 
                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 
                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.
                  “You know it.” Dick said.
                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 
                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.
                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.
                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.
                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.
                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.
                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.
                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 
                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 
                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.
                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”
                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.
                  “You knew about that?” 
                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.
                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 
                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.
                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 
                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.
                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.
                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 
                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.
                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 
                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 
                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.
                  “Yes, absolutely.” 
                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.
                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 
                  “I did too.” 
                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.
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lila-lou · 3 days
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 24/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt, VERY soft Ben, Ben gets hurt
Word Count: 7322
A/N: This is part 24 of “His only exception”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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Butcher leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Hughie as he spoke. "There's still no word from Soldier Boy or (y/n)", he growled, his frustration evident in his tone. "It's been too quiet. By now, Soldier Boy should have made a move, tried to take out the team. It´s been over a week. There's something off about this".
Annie paced back and forth, her expression troubled. "Maybe they're planning something", she suggested, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or maybe they're waiting for the right moment".
Butcher shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "I don't buy it", he muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "We need to find out what they're up to, and fast".
Annie sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Let's face it, Butcher", she said resignedly. "If Soldier Boy wants us dead, we're as good as dead. We don't stand a chance against him".
Butcher's jaw tightened, his frustration evident as he slammed his fist against the table. "We can't just sit around waiting to die", he growled, his voice edged with determination. "We need to find out what they're planning and stop them before it's too late".
Hughie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting between Butcher and Annie. "I just… I can't believe (y/n) would betray us like that", he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Did you forget that we all lied to her for weeks?", she pointed out. "She has every reason to be angry with us".
Butcher grunted in agreement. "Doesn't mean she'd side with Soldier Boy", he interjected, his voice gruff. "But we can't rule anything out. We need to be prepared for anything".
Annie let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you still not get it, Butcher?", she groaned, frustration evident in her tone. "Soldier Boy and (y/n) are head over heels for each other, and they're just too stubborn to admit it. But trust me, they'd die for each other".
Butcher's expression darkened at Annie's words. "Doesn't mean we have to accept it", he grumbled. "We need to find a way to stop them before they do something stupid".
You glanced over at Ben, concern etched on your features as you sat in the passenger seat of the car. "Are you sure about this?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Ben met your gaze, his expression resolute as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure", he replied, his voice firm.
With a deep exhale, you settled back into your seat, trusting Ben's decision despite your lingering doubts. As the car pulled away from the hotel, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension about what lay ahead.
The news of Annie and A-Train taking over Vought in Homelander's absence sent shockwaves through the media, dominating headlines for days. Reports of Ashley's dismissal only added to the turmoil surrounding the company, leaving many speculating about the future of Vought and the Seven.
As you and Ben drove through the city, the chatter on the radio and the buzz of conversations around you were filled with speculation and uncertainty. Even after all those months. It was clear that the power dynamics within Vought were shifting, and the implications of Annie and A-Train's rise to prominence were yet to be fully realized.
So when Ben entered the bustling lobby of Vought Tower, clad in his imposing supe suit, a hush fell over the crowd. People stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief and fear at the sight of him. The front desk staff immediately sprang into action, frantically dialing Starlight and A-Train, hoping to quell whatever disturbance Ben's presence might herald.
But Ben remained unfazed by the commotion around him, his gaze fixed on his destination as he strode purposefully through the crowd towards the elevators. The air crackled with tension as he passed, his mere presence casting a shadow over the bustling lobby.
As you waited in the car, a sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You watched the chaos unfolding through the windshield, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered what Ben was up to inside the building.
Despite the order to stay put, you couldn't help but feel a surge of worry for Ben's safety. You fidgeted in your seat, torn between the urge to rush inside and the knowledge that Ben had instructed you to stay in the car for your own protection.
As Ben entered the top floor, Annie and A-Train stood with arms crossed, their expressions guarded. Butcher and the rest of the team stood nearby, tension thick in the air.
Ben's arrival caused a momentary pause in the commotion, all eyes turning to him. With a wry grin, he addressed Butcher.
"Did you miss me?", he quipped, his voice laced with amusement despite the underlying tension.
As Ben strode past them, his presence commanding attention, Butcher tensed, ready for a confrontation. However, Hughie's restraining hand on his arm halted his advance, a silent plea for patience.
Meanwhile, Ben found his place at the head of the table in the meeting room of the seven, legs crossed casually as he leaned back in his chair. With a commanding tone, he addressed the room, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Sit down", he ordered, his gaze sweeping over each member of the assembled group, his authority leaving no room for argument.
With a flash of his glowing chest, Ben's voice took on a more aggressive tone, his patience wearing thin as he bellowed, "I said sit the fuck down!".
His words echoed through the room. Slowly, the members of the group complied, taking their seats with wary glances exchanged among them.
With that, Ben stood up again and paced back and forth behind their chairs. "Now fucking look at you all", he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "A bunch of good little pussies, sitting here like obedient lapdogs".
As he approached Butcher, his footsteps echoed ominously in the silence of the room. With deliberate intent, he placed both hands firmly on Butcher's shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to convey his dominance.
"Now, listen up", he began, his voice low and commanding. "We've got some serious shit to discuss, and I won't tolerate any bullshit. You fucking hear me?".
Ben's grip tightened slightly on Butcher's shoulders as he continued his speech.
"Now, first things first", he declared, his tone firm and unwavering. "You're all still breathing thanks to your friend, (Y/N). She convinced me not to rip each and every one of you to shreds". It wasn´t a lie. The two of you talked about it over and over again.
There was a hint of begrudging respect in his words, an acknowledgment of your influence over him in that crucial moment.
Ben's steps echoed across the polished floor as he made his way back towards the head of the table, his arms folded across his chest in a display of dominance. His gaze swept over the assembled group, each member tensing under his piercing stare.
"But here's the thing", he continued, his voice low and dangerous. "One fucking wrong move, and not even her pretty little mouth will be able to stop me from ripping each and every one of your cocksucking heads off".
His words hung heavy in the air, a warning of the consequences they would face if they dared to cross him again. The room fell silent, the tension palpable as everyone processed the gravity of his threat.
Ben's smirk widened into a self-assured grin as he delivered his next words with unmistakable confidence.
"So how about welcoming the new fucking head of Vought?", he declared. "America's first supe. Myself. I'm fucking America now".
His proclamation sent shockwaves through the room, the implications of his statement sinking in as everyone processed the magnitude of what Ben had just declared.
As Butcher began to rise from his seat, Ben swiftly raised a finger, shaking his head in a warning gesture.
"Uh-uh", he grinned.
Then, his voice rose to a thunderous roar, echoing through the room as he bellowed, "You sit the fuck down!".
Ben´s eyes starting to glow which left everyone breathless and frozen in place, cowed by the sheer force of his power.
"You know, actually, you did something good with capturing me", he admitted, his eyes no longer glowing with anger. "Leaving me alone with just my thoughts and my body I couldn´t fucking move, bringing my head pretty much back to russia… I discovered some stuff about myself".
He paused for a moment, looking at his hands as he continued, "Seems like the Russians actually gave me some strong updates, you know, all that radioactive energy. I can channeling it".
As he spoke, his hands began to emit a faint glow, a tangible manifestation of the power coursing through him.
What Ben didn't mention, however, was the difficulties he still had in controlling his power and himself.
"So since none of you got a fucking complaint", he declared, his tone firm, "I'll wait until 8 tonight to make this shit official. We will discuss everything else then".
His words hung in the air. "And now, leave the fucking building!".
The team began to file out, not wanting to escalate the situation further.
As everyone left, Ben texted you to come up. Just as you stepped into the elevator, your heart skipped a beat when you were met with Jay standing there. His presence sent a jolt of surprise and uncertainty coursing through you, momentarily stealing your breath.
"Jay…", you uttered his name, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jay's expression was a mix of concern and frustration as he spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "I haven't heard from you in two weeks", he began, his voice tinged with worry. "What's going on?".
You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you as you met Jay's gaze. "It's… complicated", you murmured, your voice barely audible above the hum of the elevator.
Jay's expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Where have you been?", he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. "I've been worried sick".
As the elevator came to a stop at the top floor, you struggled to find the right words, but Ben's footsteps echoed already towards the elevator, his expression darkening as he caught sight of you speaking to some guy.
"Who the fuck is this little bitch?", Ben's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Jay. His jaw clenched at the sight of another man talking to you.
Feeling the weight of Ben's intense gaze, you struggled to find the right words. You turned to Ben, a pleading look in your eyes.
"Ben, can you give us a few minutes?", you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Despite the urgency of the situation, you needed a moment to compose yourself and figure out how to navigate the delicate balance between your past with Jay and your present with Ben.
Meanwhile, Jay took a step back, his expression wary as he sized up the situation. He could sense the tension radiating from Ben and wisely chose to give you space to handle it.
Ben's brows furrowed deeper, his expression hardening as he regarded you with suspicion. "What for?", he demanded, his voice low. He wasn't about to entertain any delays or distractions, especially not when another man was involved.
You groaned in frustration, realizing that revealing the truth about your relationship with Jay would only escalate the situation further. But still, you had to be honest. Knowing Ben, he wouldn't give up so easily. With a heavy sigh, you mumbled, "This is Jay… We… dated".
Jay raised an eyebrow at your choice of words, his expression shifting to one of confusion. "Dated? Past tense?", he questioned, his tone betraying his uncertainty. "Since… you never broke up with me".
As Ben's anger flared, his eyes narrowed dangerously at Jay. He didn't take well to the revelation of your relationship, feeling betrayed that you hadn't mentioned any other man before. That you fucking dated someone while he was gone.
He was about to advance towards Jay, his intent clear in his demeanor, but you sensed the impending danger. With a quick movement, you stepped between them, desperation evident in your pleading gaze as you looked up at Ben.
"Ben, please", you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don't do this".
It took a few moments before Ben roughly pulled you out of the elevator by your upper arm, pressed the exit button, and watched as Jay stood in the elevator and the door closed.
Turning towards you, Ben's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of anger, hurt, and frustration evident in his eyes. His jaw clenched even more as he struggled to contain the swirling emotions within him.
"You didn't tell me someone", Ben growled. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about him?".
You winced at his tight grip, feeling the bruises already forming beneath his fingers. But actually Ben held back for your sake. Usually your arm would be broken by now.
"I-I wanted to, but…", you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his intense gaze. "I thought you were dead, Ben. I didn't think I would ever see you again".
"And you moved on that fucking quickly?", he snapped, his grip on your arm tightening momentarily before he released you. "You thought I was dead, so you just found someone else?".
You took a step back, feeling the weight of his words bearing down on you. "No, Ben, it wasn't like that", you protested, your voice tinged with regret as you rubbed your upper arm. "I thought I had lost you forever. I was lost and alone, and Jay was there for me".
His expression twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. The sight of it made your heart clench in anguish.
Ben´s his hands clenching into fists as he watched you with intensity. Even though he didn't want to hear it, he knew he had to confront the question burning in his mind.
"Did he fuck you?", he demanded, his voice low and harsh, his eyes boring into yours with a mixture of fury and hurt.
As you didn’t answer right away, Ben pushed you back against the wall, his frustration boiling over into anger. His voice rose to a yell as he demanded an answer.
"I asked you a fucking question!", he roared, his tone laced with desperation and rage. "Did he fuck you?".
Your heart skipped a beat, torn between fear of Ben's state and your own rising anger. Without thinking, you reacted, lashing out and punching him in the face, the impact breaking your wrist in the process.
"F-fuck, he didn't!", you cried out, your voice trembling with pain and frustration. "Of course he fucking didn't!".
You cradled your injured wrist, wincing as the pain shot through you, a physical reminder of the chaos unfolding between you and Ben.
Ben staggered back, his hand flying to his cheek where you had struck him. Shock flashed across his face, mingling with the anger still burning in his eyes.
"You fucking punched me", he exclaimed, his voice incredulous as he stared at you in disbelief. "Are you out of your fucking mind?".
Despite the pain radiating from your broken wrist, you met his gaze defiantly, your jaw set with determination.
"I'm not going to let you treat me like this", you yelled, your voice quivering with a mixture of pain and anger. "I'm not just some bimbo you can push around whenever you feel like it. And if you ever lay a hand on me again, I swear, I'll fucking leave you!".
Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of their implications. Despite the intensity of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at only the thought of walking away from the man you loved.
Ben pressed his lips together and tried to calm himself down. Losing you was the worst thing that could happen to him. He took a deep, very deep breath, before he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you towards the office kitchen.
You shot him a glare, your eyes flashing with defiance, but he merely rolled his eyes in response.
"Stop bitching around", Ben muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration. Despite your attempts to pull away, he maintained a firm grip on your lower back, refusing to let you slip from his grasp.
In the kitchen he fumbled out a bandage from the first aid kit.
"You brought this on yourself, you know", Ben mumbled, his tone tinged with sarcasm as he carefully wrapped the bandage around your throbbing wrist. "Trying to take a swing at me like that. That's the price you pay for trying to hurt the big bad supe".
Despite the pain in your wrist, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his remark.
After a moment, Ben cupped your cheek, a conflicted expression crossed his face. His gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, a silent apology lingering in the depths of his stare. Despite his pride, he knew deep down that he had overreacted, but his stubbornness prevented him from vocalizing his regret.
For a moment, the tension between you seemed to melt away as you gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging in the air.
As the tension eased between you, Ben leaned in, pressing his lips gently against yours. The kiss was tender, a silent reassurance of his feelings despite the what just had happened.
With a swift motion, Ben lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands firmly gripping your ass cheeks as he positioned himself between your legs without breaking the kiss. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine.
Your healthy hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync with his in a desperate need for connection.
As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs with a possessive urgency.
With each caress, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, your desire for him growing with every passing moment. His lips moved hungrily against yours.
Unable to resist any longer, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as the heat between you intensified.
As Ben's lips moved against yours, a low, guttural groan escaped from deep within his chest. "You're mine", he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with desire. "No one else is supposed to touch you like this".
His hands roamed up your thighs, pushing up your skirt roughly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. The urgency in his touch spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his need for you in that moment.
You moaned softly in response, the sensation of his hands on your skin sending shivers down your spine.
As Ben struggled with his supe suit, his hands trembling with need, you steadied yourself on his biceps, your fingers gripping the fabric of his suit.
With careful movements, you avoided putting too much pressure on your injured wrist, mindful of the pain it still caused you. Despite the discomfort, the urgency of the moment spurred you on.
As his belt finally gave way under his fingers, he let out a low growl of satisfaction, his gaze locking with yours as he stepped even closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.
With a smirk, Ben pulled out his throbbing dick, his gaze dark with desire as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them aside.
"You're always wet for me", he teased, his voice husky with arousal. "I don't even need to check".
His words sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your skin.
You couldn't help but voice your concern as Ben positioned himself between your legs, ready to thrust inside you.
"What if someone walks in?", you asked, a hint of worry in your voice.
Ben chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Let them walk in. I want everyone to see how badly you need me".
His words sent a shiver down your spine as you realized just how possessive and dominant he could be.
As Ben bottomed out with the first rough thrust, a gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in response to the sudden, overwhelming pleasure.
His lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to him. "That's it, sweetheart", he murmured. "No one else can make you feel this good, can they? Only me".
As Ben began to move, his thrusts becoming urgent and desperate, you surrendered completely to the pleasure he offered.
Your head fell back, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to the sensation of being filled by him once again. The wet sound of your pussy echoed in the room, mixing with the rhythm of his movements as he pushed himself deeper with each thrust.
Every minute without him had felt like an eternity, but now that he was here, buried inside you, you couldn't get enough of him.
Ben's gaze was fixed on you, his intense stare capturing every small movement and reaction as he thrust into you. He was completely focused on the sweet sounds you made with each movement of his hips, savoring every gasp, moan, and whimper that escaped your lips.
With a low growl of satisfaction, he leaned in closer. "You sound so fucking good, sweetheart. I could listen to you all day".
With his words, your body tensed around him, your inner muscles clenching tightly around his throbbing length. The sensation was enough to send Ben over the edge, his own release crashing over him in powerful waves.
With a guttural groan, he spilled himself deep inside you, his hot seed flooding your core as he continued to thrust into you.
Ben collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both savored the intimacy of the moment.
He savored the intoxicating scent of your skin mingled with the faint trace of your perfume. He couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him. The heady mix of his powerful presence, the tight confines of his supe suit, and the vulnerability he allowed himself to feel in that moment sent another wave of heat straight to your core.
You couldn't suppress a gasp as you felt the familiar throbbing sensation between your legs, your body responding instinctively to his proximity. Ben groaned softly against your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he too felt the undeniable pull of desire.
Lost in the moment, you pressed yourself closer to him, craving the feel of his strong arms around you and the electric connection between your bodies.
Ben carefully pulled out of you, his movements deliberate as he made sure none of his seed spilled. With practiced ease, he helped you adjust your clothing, pulling your panties back up your body.
"There", he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness. "All taken care of".
“Keep it inside”, Ben ordered.
You raised an eyebrow at him, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Again?".
Ben chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Yes, again”, he whispered huskily. "It turns me on knowing you're filled with me".
You couldn't help but blush at his boldness, feeling a surge of arousal at his words.
You hesitated for a moment, the thought of Ben's cum still inside you was both thrilling and slightly nerve-wracking. But the intensity of his gaze and the desire evident in his voice left you unable to resist.
"Keep it inside until tonight", he mumbled, his voice commanding yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. "I want you to sit through the meeting with me, knowing that my cum is creaming your sweet little pussy".
You swallowed hard but nodded.
After a few minutes of making sure you can stand on your own feet again, Ben made his way downstairs, his presence commanded attention, and the heads of departments from Vought fell into line, their expressions a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Standing before them, Ben wasted no time asserting his authority, making it clear that he was the one in charge now.
"I'm calling the shots from now on", he declared firmly, his voice carrying authority as he addressed the assembled group. "Any orders come from me, and you follow them without fucking question. Understood?".
His words left no room for dissent, and the heads of departments nodded in acknowledgment, knowing better than to defy Soldier Boy.
With his position as the new leader firmly established, Ben wasted no time in outlining his expectations and directives for the future of Vought. He laid out plans for expansion, innovation, and increased profitability, his vision for the company clear and ambitious.
As the meeting progressed, Ben's confidence and decisiveness left a strong impression on those in attendance. Despite initial skepticism, many began to see the potential for growth and success under his leadership.
after what felt like an eternity, Ben entered his office , his eyes locked onto you sitting on the couch, a mixture of pride and possessiveness evident in his gaze. He made his way over to you.
"You look good there", he remarked. "That's where you belong, by my side".
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his slightly misogynistic comment, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
Ben reached out to gently pull you to your feet, being careful of your injured wrist.
"Everything went according to plan", he mumbled. "I made it clear who's in charge now".
You nodded, relieved to hear that everything went smoothly. "That's good to hear", you said, a sense of pride in your voice.
Ben pulled you close against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he began to pepper kisses along your neck.
"You know", he murmured teasingly against your skin, "you're getting fucked by the strongest and mightiest being on the planet".
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing tone, a playful glint in your eyes as you tilted your head to give him better access to your neck.
"And here I thought I was just getting fucked by an arrogant, egotistical supe on coke", you teased back, a smirk playing on your lips.
Ben let out a low growl, his grip tightening around you as he nipped lightly at your skin. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart", he warned, his voice husky with desire. "Or I might have to remind you who's really in fucking charge here".
"Ooh, I'm scared", you mocked. "What are you gonna do? Spank me?".
Ben's lips curled into a wicked grin, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. "Maybe I will", he murmured, his voice low and seductive.
Your heart raced at the promise in his words, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you pressed closer to him, eager for whatever he had in store.
Ben's gloved fingers slipped under your skirt and into your panties. You gasped at the sudden sensation.
"You're really eager to check, aren't you?", you teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his heated gaze. "Can't get enough of your own handiwork?".
Ben chuckled as he traced his fingers along the delicate folds of your pussy. "I just want to make sure you're still full of me", he murmured. "And if not, I'll just have to fill you up again".
With a sly grin, Ben brought his hand back from beneath your skirt, his middle finger glistening with a mixture of his and your cum. Holding it up to your lips, he teased you with the intoxicating scent, his gaze smoldering with desire.
"Open up", he commanded softly, his voice thick with arousal as he watched you intently.
Your heart raced as you obediently parted your lips, welcoming his finger inside your mouth. The taste of your combined essence flooded your senses, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you sucked his finger greedily.
Ben's smirk deepened as he watched your eager response, his own desire mounting with each passing moment. With a satisfied hum, he slowly withdrew his finger from your mouth, his eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at you.
"Look what you do to me", Ben commanded. His hand guided yours towards the prominent bulge beneath his suit.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric, the heat of his desire palpable against your hand. With a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you eagerly traced the contours of his bulge, reveling in the power you held over him.
Ben's grip tightened on your hand as he watched you. "You like that, don't you?", he murmured. "You like knowing how much you turn me on".
You could only nod in response, your own desire mounting with each passing second. With a hungry growl, Ben captured your lips in a searing kiss, his need for you burning hotter than before.
With the sound of footsteps approaching, Ben reluctantly pulled away from you, his lips lingering for a moment before he stepped back, adjusting his supe suit.
"I would love to continue this", he murmured, "but business is calling".
You nodded softly, your own pulse still racing with excitement. As Butcher and the rest of the team entered the room, Ben straightened, his demeanor shifting back to his authoritative self.
Butcher's sarcastic tone cut through the tension in the room as he asked, "So, you two bloody lovebirds ready?".
Annie's gaze shifted between you and Ben, her expression unreadable. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure as you followed Ben towards the office of the Seven.
As Ben pulled back the chair for you, he gestured for you to take a seat at the head of the table. Meanwhile, he positioned himself slightly behind you, standing in front of the window.
"Alright, listen up", Ben began, his voice commanding attention. "Here's the plan: you lot are the new Seven. Not because I like you, but because I need to keep you under fucking control".
His words were firm as he laid out his intentions for the future of the team.
Butcher's expression hardened as he crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled with Ben's plan. "And why the bloody hell should we listen to you?", he challenged, his tone defiant.
Ben's jaw tightened as he met Butcher's gaze head-on. "Because if you don't, you'll regret it", he replied firmly. "And I'm not asking for your fucking approval, Butcher. I'm telling you how it's going to be".
A-Train spoke up, his voice tinged with skepticism. "And what if we don't fall in line?", he asked, his tone challenging.
Ben's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze shifting to A-Train with an air of superiority. "Oh, you think I'll kill you if you don't?", he retorted. "No, A-Train. I won't kill you. But I'll make your life a living hell until you wish you were fucking dead".
Fortunately, no one made any major moves. Probably because no one wanted to escalate the situation. At least not at this moment
Ben dismissed the team and they filed out of the room, he turned to you with a determined look in his eyes.
He reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his gloved hand, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment.
"I need to make some preparations for tonight", he said. "Will you be okay here on your own for a while?".
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Ben. I'll be fine. Just take care of what you need to do".
Ben's lips curved into a faint smile at your reassurance. "Good", he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "After all this, I have a little surprise for you".
Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his words, a hint of excitement bubbling within you. "A surprise?", you echoed, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Ben leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling away. "Yeah", he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with anticipation. "But you'll have to wait and see".
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the promise of something special to come.
Two hours later, amidst a throng of flashing cameras and eager reporters, Ben stood tall and confident as he addressed the gathered media.
"I am pleased to announce that I have taken over Vought Industries", he declared, his voice projecting authority and assurance. "I am committed to working closely with the government to ensure the safety and well-being of our citizens, and to restore trust in our heroes".
The reporters clamored to ask questions, but Ben remained composed, his answers measured and deliberate as he outlined his vision for the future of Vought and its role in society.
As the press conference came to a close, Ben stepped away from the podium, a sense of accomplishment evident in his demeanor. He knew that this was just the beginning.
Despite the limited number of questions he answered, the media seemed satisfied with Ben's brief appearance and his vague yet promising statements. After all, as Soldier Boy, he wasn't an unknown figure, and his sudden rise to power at Vought was sure to generate headlines and speculation for days to come.
As you wandered through the top floor of Vought, your thoughts swirled with the events of the past year, from the tumultuous ups and downs to the unexpected twists and turns. Lost in contemplation, you were startled when Ben suddenly appeared before you.
"Hey", Ben murmured softly as he closed the distance between you, his warm smile melting away the tension that had built up within you. "There you are".
His voice held a hint of relief, as if seeing you had eased some invisible burden from his shoulders.
"Are you ready to head out?", Ben inquired, his gaze lingering on yours as he awaited your response.
You nodded softly.
As Ben placed his hand on your lower back and guided you towards the elevators, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.
As Ben drove out of the city after getting some takeaway, you couldn't help but feel curious about your destination.
"Where are we going?", you asked, your voice betraying your fatigue.
Ben grinned mischievously. "I told you it´s a surprise", he replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
You sighed, leaning back in your seat. "I hope it's worth the mystery".
"Trust me, it'll be worth it", Ben assured you, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
As Ben parked the car in front of a cozy house surrounded by beautiful nature, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you.
"Is this… where we're staying?", you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
Ben nodded, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yep, this is it", he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings with contentment.
You glanced around, taking in the peaceful scenery. "It's beautiful", you remarked, feeling a sense of relaxation settle over you.
Ben grinned. "I'm glad you like it", he said, his voice soft with affection.
With a smile, you leaned over to give him a quick kiss before stepping out of the car, excited to explore your temporary retreat in the midst of nature.
With the takeaway food in hand, you followed Ben to the front door. He turned the key and pushed the door open, ushering you inside.
As you stepped into the cozy interior, you glanced around, taking in the warm and inviting atmosphere of the house. The soft glow of the lamps cast a comforting light over the living room, and you noticed a crackling fireplace in the corner, filling the space with a cozy ambiance.
“This place is amazing”, you remarked, a smile playing at your lips as you set the food down on the nearby table.
Ben´s grin widend, pleased by your reaction. “Fucking glad you think so”, he replied, closing the door behind you.
As Ben rubbed his neck nervously, he took a deep breath before speaking. "Cause… I actually bought this place", he confessed, his gaze flickering to yours.
Your eyes widened in astonishment, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless by his revelation.
Sensing your surprise, Ben hesitated, his nerves palpable as he continued. "I know it's sudden, but… I was thinking, maybe you'd like to… stay here with me?", he asked tentatively, his words hanging in the air as he awaited your response.
Ben was nervous. Fucking nervous. You've never seen him like this before.
You cleared your throat, feeling the weight of his question hanging in the air. Hesitantly, you met his gaze and quietly asked, "Are you asking me to move in with you?".
Ben's heart raced, his vulnerability making him feel somewhat exposed. He took a deep breath before meeting your eyes again. "I just want to know you're safe, that's all".
As Ben's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, but at the same time, a twinge of disappointment lingered. Despite all you've been through together, he still hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend or shown any clear commitment.
Biting your lip, you tried to hide the subtle sadness that crept into your expression, unsure of how to respond.
"I appreciate that, Ben", you said softly, forcing a small smile despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. "And I feel safe with you too. But…", you trailed off, unable to find the right words to express your thoughts.
As Ben sensed your sadness, he stepped closer and placed both of his hands on your lower back, pulling you gently towards him.
"But what?", he asked softly, his gaze searching yours with concern.
Ben's heart raced with apprehension, his usual confidence faltering in the face of vulnerability. He feared your rejection, uncertain of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.
As tears welled up in your eyes, Ben's heart clenched with regret. This wasn't how he envisioned this moment. He had hoped that buying the house for the two of you would bring you joy, not tears.
With gentle hands, Ben lifted your chin, his touch tender as he looked into your eyes, searching for answers.
"Baby, what's wrong?", he asked. "Talk to me".
With a hesitant breath, you finally voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind for months.
"Where do we stand, Ben?", you whispered softly, your voice barely audible as you searched his eyes for an answer.
Ben's heart raced faster, his mind scrambling for the right words to say. He wasn't prepared for this conversation, not ready to confront his own feelings and desires.
"I don't know", he finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he looked into your eyes. "I care about you, more than I can put into words. But I'm not sure where we stand".
Feeling your heart shatter, more tears gathered in your eyes. With trembling hands, you pulled back from Ben's touch. The uncertainty in his words cut deeper than you expected, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
"I understand", you whispered, your voice barely audible as you fought to keep your emotions in check. "I… I need some time to… to think".
Your words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you as you grappled with the uncertainty of your relationship.
Ben sighed heavily, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your arm. "Please", he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. "Let me explain".
But you couldn't bear the thought of more uncertainty, the hurt too raw and overwhelming. Pulling away from his touch, you shook your head, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain.
"No. I… I need to be alone right now", you mumbled, turning towards the door to leave.
You told him you loved him and he just couldn't bring himself to tell you how he felt about you. After all, he was the first man you had confessed your feelings to. You just felt so stupid. Maybe he just didn't love you the way you loved him?
Ben sighed again, his heart heavy with regret as he watched your tears fall. "Let me at least drive you to the next hotel. I can't stand the thought of leaving you like this".
You hesitated, torn between your desire to be with Ben and your need for clarity in your relationship. Finally, you nodded reluctantly, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.
"Okay", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Take me to the hotel".
With a heavy heart, Ben led you back to the car, his mind consumed with thoughts of how he could make things right with you.
He knew that if he forced you to stay with him at that moment, he would only hurt you more. If there's one thing he's learned by now, it's to let you go your own way every now and then and not force yours on you. Even if every fiber of his body resisted. Even though he hated not having you around.
As Ben parked the car in front of the hotel, he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the turmoil in his heart. Without saying a word, he reached out, taking your hand in his.
"You won't leave me, will you?", he asked, his voice filled with vulnerability. The fear of losing you weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't bear the thought of being without you forever.
Feeling the weight of your silence, Ben watched helplessly as you stepped out of the car without another word. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew better than to push you further. With a heavy heart, he remained in the car, allowing you the space you needed.
———————————
A/N: ._. down we go. Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee
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flower-boi16 · 3 days
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The Millie Problem
The first Helluva Boss short came out and...it was mid. It's cute and harmless, sure, but it's also nothing special or anything that great. The short once again tries and fails to give Millie any real depth and it made me realize the biggest flaw with Millie as a character...
....the writers don't know how to give her depth. I've talked this before but now it seems like a fairly common thing for Millie as a character that it's time to make a post about this. The writers clearly want to give Millie depth but like I said the problem is that they don't seem to know HOW, and here I'm going to explain why the writers' attempts at giving Millie depth simply don't work.
In Season 1 Millie kinda just...existed. She was there. She had little personality or character depth beyond being Moxxie's wife, she was completely one-dimensional as a character.
Season 2 would come and try to give her depth with Unhappy Campers, and this is where the problem begins to arise. Instead of actually focusing on Millie as a character, Unhappy Campers wasted it's runtime on focusing on Moxxie being jealous and decided to just. Randomly give Millie validation issues completely out of nowhere.
I've spoken before about this doesn't work, so I'll just explain it quick; it comes out of nowhere. Millie has never shown to want validation from others, there was no foreshadowing or build-up to this, thus it feels forced and rushed. It's just a random character flaw the writers pulled out their ass in a rushed and failed attempt at giving Millie depth.
But it doesn't give her depth because it came out of nowhere. This flaw is also never explored upoun; the show never explores this insecurity or why Millie even has it. Feels tacked on to her.
It is, essentially, a rushed attempt at giving her depth. This is a conflict that comes completely out of nowhere and is heavily underdeveloped. It does little for Millie as a character and fails to give her depth.
The new short is the second instance of this; once again we have a conflict where Sally is upset that Millie moved away and they reconcile in the end. This conflict is at least better than the other two of three times is happened, however, it still has the same problems; it doesn't really do that much for Millie as a character. It comes out of nowhere and is explored very little.
It's not enough to develop Millie as a character, it simply feels like the bare minimum. Once again; it's a conflict that comes out of nowhere, is explored very little, and gives little depth to Millie as a character. It once again, feels tacked on.
Now we're going to go into leak territory here as a future episode called GhostFuckers shows the third instance of the writers attempting to give Millie depth. How are they going to do it this time?
By making Millie suicidal of course! ....wait I'm sorry what???? Like with Unhappy Campers I've spoken before about why this doesn't work but of the three instances, this is easily the worst one. Why is Millie being suicidal here??? WHY have her be suicidal in the first place??? What's the point?????
This adds nothing to Millie as a character and once again feels forced and tacked on. Like the other two instances, it comes completely out of nowhere. Plus it just flat out makes no sense! Why does Millie apparently hate herself for "being a killing machine" when that is LITERALLY THE THING HER HUSBAND LOVES ABOUT HER AND WHEN THAT'S THE THING THAT MAKES HER ONE OF THE BEST MEMBERS OF THE GROUP???? WHY DOES SHE HATE HERSELF??? AND WHY IS SHE SUDDENELY SUICIDAL???? WHY DOES SHE SUDDENLY FEEL LIKE A BURDEN TO HER HUSBAND????? Once again, it's a forced attempt at giving Millie depth and feels tacked on.
It comes out of nowhere & is extremely forced. Granted, the episode hasn't come out yet, however judging by the leaks it seems like the episode will be the third instance of the writers randomly introducing conflicts out of nowhere in order to give Millie depth.
It's clear that the writers want to flesh out Millie as a character, but the problem is that they don't seem to know how. They constantly try introducing random conflicts for Millie to try and give her character depth, but they fail because every time the writers try to give Millie depth, it always comes out of nowhere. They always feel rushed, tacked on, and they just don't add anything to her as a character. It just feels like the bare minimum.
I want to like Millie, I really do, but it seems like the writers just don't know what to do with her anymore.
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Fuck Me Up, Florida
Summary: Elain has some regrets- she'll bury them in Florida.
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Read on AO3
Before:
Elain stood on the edge of her cottage, arms crossed over her chest. Maybe they’d taken things too far this time but there wasn’t room for this interloper, this stranger from an even stranger land. She and Lucien had lived in the swamplands for centuries—they would outlast the so-called witch seeking to take their territory.
But Lucien’s face…oh. He knelt beside her, head bowed as blood crusted over his golden skin. “You should go—”
“I’ll kill her,” Elain replied calmly, drawing forth the magic pulsating against her fingertips. She might lack Lucien’s ability to shift himself at will, to take on the terrifying form of the alligators that guarded the waters, nor could she rip out a throat with her teeth.
Elain could merely gaze into the future and reshape it to her will. 
The witch—Amarantha, they called her—was from another place with crueler, colder rules. Her magic was just as old, but twisted and dark and wholly out of place in the warm, sunlit paradise. Elain had seen how it ended, saw the witch crumble to dust, though when she tried to see how, the future shifted wildly into a kaleidoscope of color. 
The witch could be defeated. She would be defeated, if only for what she’d done to Lucien.
So Elain waited, dagger hidden beneath the cool material of her skirt, while Lucien continued to kneel beside her. He wanted to leave while they were still intact, but Elain refused. This was their home. She’d give it up over her dead body. 
“Is that so?” Amarantha purred, stepping from seemingly thin air. Everything about her set Elain’s on edge. She was bone pale, with eyes so black they seemed to bleed against the whites of her eyes. Her hair was the same shade of freshly spilt blood and around one long, spindly finger she wore a ring made from a real, moving eye.
Her dress slithered against the mud, silencing the once lively world. “You’ll leave over your dead body?”
Lucien’s head snapped up, tasting the iron tang of magic mere seconds before Elain did. Amarantha pointed at Elain, eyes burning with deathly amusement. 
“No—!”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Amarantha purred. Elain was frozen, trapped in a swirling mass of air. “She’ll be back.”
“Don’t,” Lucien pleaded. “I’ll do anything—”
“I want nothing from you. Only her and her meddling sisters. Let’s play a game…just to make it fair. I won’t kill her, little demon. She’ll be reborn and given one mortal lifespan. Bring him an offering of flesh as a sign of our bargain…and in return, if you can convince her to tell you she loves you, I’ll return her memories.”
Elain wanted to scream at Lucien not to take the deal. It was a fools errand—to rob her of her memories, to make her think she was mortal and then present her with a male who looked so inhuman no human would ever stand to be in his presence.
Say no, she tried to plead with her eyes. Feyre and Nesta would avenge her. Lucien looked up at her, face still freshly scarred, and shook his head. He knew it was impossible—a fools bargain. And still.
“It’s a deal.”
Elain took a breath.
And then she was gone. 
Now: 
She didn’t know how it happened. 
One minute Elain Archeron had been listening to Graysen go on yet another tirade and the next…the next her hands her bloodied and Graysen was laying there lifeless, eyes glassy and tilted toward the vaulted ceiling. If she wanted to be honest with both herself and God, Elain would have admitted that she’d simply lost her temper.
He wasn’t yelling at her. Not this time, anyway. Instead, Graysen yelled about immigrants, he yelled about his politics, he yelled until his face was red and he realized that the only person left to yell at was her. And Elain was simply tired of apologizing.
She’d wanted him to just stop. To give her a moment to think, to settle her galloping heart. Even when she slept it was never peaceful, never deep. She tiptoed through her own life, making herself small and sweet so as not to draw his ire.
She’d always been that way.
What had been different, she wondered? 
But she knew the answer to that, too. Two years of marriage—and two years of infidelity. She’d discovered it the week before when his phone lit up at three am, just in time for Elain to get up and use the bathroom. She couldn’t say what was different about that night, too. Maybe it had been the Georgia heat. Or maybe her body knew something her brain did not. Elain had spent the night scrolling through hundreds of love sick messages, and a hundred more that painted her out to be a frigid, standoffish wife who didn’t care about her husband's needs.
Any woman dumb enough to believe the tired story of the neglected married man deserved whatever she got. Which, in Elain’s estimation, was a man who yelled about everything all the time. He didn’t yell at that other woman, though. 
He called her beautiful.
Elain could still remember when Graysen had talked to her like that, too.
So when he started yelling, Elain’s patience was already shredded thin. There was simply no more good will left. She’d picked up a heavy crystal face and smashed it over the back of his head. Graysen had pitched forward, forehead slamming against the sharp edge of their coffee table, rendering him dead before he ever connected with their hardwood. 
She’d intended to turn herself in. That was the reasonable thing to do. Nesta was a lawyer, Feyre was married to old money—she figured she could spend a decade or so behind bars, even if orange did wash her out. 
The world worked in mysterious ways. As Elain was picking up her phone, 911 already dialed, her phone dinged a warning.
Hurricane Elaine scheduled to make landfall on…
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Elain burst out laughing. Hurricane Elaine? Really? Surely it was some cosmic joke and yet…
“Hello?”
“Sorry,” Elain said, still laughing like a lunatic. “My daughter, she…sorry.”
The annoyed operator on the other end huffed out a sigh, assured Elain it happened all the time, and ended the call. 
Hurricane Elaine.
Elain was on the Florida-Georgia line, just far enough from the worst of the coming storm. It was a six hour drive to Destin, risky considering Elain had moved her husband's dead body to the back of his truck. If anyone noticed or stopped her, it was all over.
But if they didn’t…
Oh. But if they didn’t.
Graysen had a timeshare in Destin. It wasn’t much, though he was proud of it all the same. She’d never liked it, truth be told but in that moment, standing beneath a starry Georgia sky, Elain used their points and booked a week. It was the kind of thing Gray would do. He never wanted to evacuate, never took these kinds of threats seriously. Elain would dump his body in a swamp and then say the water simply swept Graysen away. 
Maybe it would take her, too.
Elain didn’t have a preference one way or the other, truth be told. She merely thought getting away with his murder was another outcome she could live with right alongside being swept away by the sea. She thought about all of it as she drove in the dead of night, amazed by the traffic trying to leave Florida as Elain tried to enter.
Every couple songs on the radio warned about the impending storm. She didn’t care. Eain was giddy by the time she pulled into the resort, careful to hide Graysen’s body beneath a tarp. It couldn’t stay in her car for long without risking being caught, not with the Florida humidity. She simply needed to check in to make her story believable, and hope no one bothered checking the security cameras.
“You’re brave, checking in,” the cheerful woman at the front desk told her. 
“Or stupid,” Elain replied with an easy smile. “My husband thought we’d have the pool all to ourselves.”
“Ocean, too,” the receptionist said before handing Elain the keys. “We aren’t required to evacuate but if things get any worse, you should.”
“I will,” she swore like a liar. All she needed was that key and a plausible alibi, after all. She’d been here, not committing any murders. Was it a crime to be stupid? No, especially not in Florida.
They could suspect her all they like, Elain didn’t care. She was free of Graysen without the mess of a divorce.
Would she feel grief once the dust had settled? When Graysen was nothing more than a few picked over bones at the bottom of a swamp would it all hit her? Would relief turn to misery? Would she lie awake in bed missing the warmth of his body?
Climbing back into her car, already warmed from the Florida heat, Elain decided she couldn’t let herself care. Not right then, anyway. Besides, if Elain was honest with herself, she was having a disturbing amount of fun.
Rolling down her window, Elain let the wind ruffle her hair like an affectionate parent as she grinned, cheeks pink from the humidity. If a hurricane was on its way, the world gave no sign of it. Though, Elain had turned from Destin to make her way toward a swamp that would become Graysen’s final resting place. 
Good riddance, she thought. This was where she’d bury all her regrets, her mistakes, her ghosts. Maybe herself, too, though it was too early to make that determination. Maybe once Graysen had been dumped and Elain was alone in the resort, hurricane winds pounding against the roof. 
Maybe. 
Truth be told, Elain didn’t want to mourn or miss him. Her whole marriage felt like she’d been grieving a man who’d died the day she met him at the altar. He’d once been kind and sweet, had looked at her like she was the sun and he was merely a frigid planet begging for warmth. He’d been the one who’d changed, who’d embraced cold so brutal no light could penetrate his rotted heart. 
Killing him had been an extreme course correction and yet…and yet Elain couldn’t find the empathy people had always praised her for. Couldn’t find anything but the knob of the radio and then her voice singing along, loud enough to be heard over the rush of the road. Nevermind that there was a dead body in the back of her stolen truck—the songs were all bops as palm trees became cypress and  mangrove. 
The air was thicker somehow, as if charged with magic. It was tempting to think that was just Florida itself and not her own delirious joy seeping out of her. She was nearly finished with the whole debacle. Her heart pounded as she pulled off the main road, tires betraying her in the mud as she crept deeper into territories unknown. 
This was the hard part. As Elain cut the ignition, she considered for a moment the absurdity of her plan. If it worked, it would be sheer luck and nothing else. There was blood in her apartment, tire treads in the mud, and a hurricane on the horizon. She ought to go back to her original plan and call her older sister for help. Nesta would know what to do, would be able to get her out of serious trouble.
Elain knew if she dumped this body, there would be nothing Nesta could do to soften that blow. There would be no painting Elain as a victim but the aggressor, the abuser—everything Graysen had been before she took his life and made him part of the Florida ecosystem. 
Elain took a breath before deciding fuck it. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Might as well see it all the way through. Elain hopped from the cab, flats sucked into the mud so deeply she thought she might need to abandon them altogether. Managing to get her feet out of the mud, Elain pulled the tarp she’d half wrapped Graysen in from the back of the truck until his body slid to the ground.
The Florida heat was getting to her. Or, maybe it wasn’t the heat that was making her feel a little manic but the humidity—whatever it was, Elain let out a soft laugh before grabbing Graysen by his limp arms. She tried hard not to look too closely at his gray skin, eyes trained on the path ahead. Just get him the water, she told herself.
Television hadn’t prepared Elain for how heavy a dead body was. Graysen didn’t look like such a solid man but right then, Elain wanted to scream as she inched him forward, sweat dripping from her nose.
She was leaving DNA everywhere—if she didn’t get caught it was simply law enforcement refusing to do their job entirely. As she dragged him toward the murky water, Elain considered that she was merely digging her own grave, too. She ought to climb in after Graysen and let the alligators have her, too.
In the end, Elain kicked Graysen into the water with a heaving breath of air. He plopped into the green tinted water with a heavy splash that silenced the insects, if only for a moment. Shoulders aching, she braced herself against the sticky bark of a leaning tree, eyes closed.
It was done. She’d done it. There was no going back now. She could have turned back anytime before Graysen sank to the bottom of the swamp but now…now there was no way in hell Elain was getting in that water to try and drag him out.
She needed to leave. Spend the week in the timeshare at the pool until the hurricane hit and then…she didn’t know. She had no plan, no idea how to go about things and she was terrified to google any of it. 
Elain opened her eyes, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. A man was coming toward her as he pulled thick, auburn hair up off his face in a messy bun.
“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes gleaming. Three long, vicious scars cut down one strange, gold eye that didn’t match the brown of the other. 
Elain nodded her head, heart pounding in her throat. What had he seen? Mouth dry, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Elain could do nothing but wait as he came toward her. He wore light clothing that looked far more comfortable than her own, the white cotton of his shirt sticking against the muscular contours of his chest. 
“What are you doing so far out here?” he pressed, eyes sliding from her to the water just beneath her. There was no evidence of what she’d done if he ignored the path she’d carved through mud and vegetation dragging Graysen’s body. And if he walked just half a mile toward the gravel road, she’d find Graysen’s truck parked, the doors flung open and likely filled with mosquitoes. 
“I like nature,” she told him. It wasn’t even a lie—Elain worked for the botanical garden back home and maintained her own in the backyard she’d once shared with Graysen. “I’ve always wanted to see a swamp.”
“Could have taken a tour,” he said, eyes twinkling. “The alligators are real aggressive out here.”
“They can’t be that bad if you’re out here,” she shot back, unsure why she was being so combative with this man. 
Something green glimmered beneath the collar of his shirt, inked against his skin. What kind of tattoo was it, she wondered? 
“I practically live here,” he replied as he came closer, hands jammed in his pockets. 
“You work in a swamp?”
He only shrugged. “It’s a living, right?”
“Well, if you’re not afraid of gators, neither am I.”
He came closer still. “There’s worse things in gators out in the swamps.”
Elain froze. There she was, in the middle of nowhere talking to a stranger who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Her hair curled in the humidity, her face slick with sweat and yet he seemed serene. Unbothered by the heat, the heavy air, or their surroundings. Elain took a step backward.
“Right. Well I uh…should be going.” He didn’t try and stop her, seemingly amused as she made her way back up the path. “Watch yourself, Elain. There’s a hurricane coming, you know.”
She only nodded, turning her back on him to rush back to the car. She was too stressed to deal with the stranger in the swamp. Elain didn’t let herself think about him until she was back in the room at the resort standing beneath cool shower water.
Watch yourself, Elain.
Had she told him her name? Elain genuinely couldn’t remember. The stress of everything was getting to her—maybe she had. In that southern kind of way, a greeting that included letting him know who she was so he knew she was no threat at all.
Why not tell him what she’d done, too? Hi, I’m Elain Archeron and I murdered my husband. 
Make it easier on the police when they went looking for witnesses. She could have given that man the murder weapon had it not been shattered in hundreds of pieces on her living room floor. Still, Elain replayed that parting sentence over and over in her head. Elain, Elain, Elain. Why had she told him her name? Why hadn’t she asked for his? 
Should she have done something more? Assured him she was just a normal woman lost in the heart of a swamp she had no business being in? Had he watched her drag that body and merely waited to see what would happen? She was more concerned with getting caught than what she’d actually done, which also worried her.
What kind of person murdered their husband? 
She did, apparently. Elain didn’t think she was a bad person—just sad. Mad, too, that things hadn’t worked the way she’d wanted to. Angrier still that she’d loved him the way she had and in the end, it hadn’t even been good enough. She still remembered insisting to Nesta that Gray was her soulmate and their love was the thing of legends. It was love so pure, so perfect, so timeless that one day people would write books about it.
She supposed she hadn’t been wrong about that last one. Some true crime junkie would pick up this story and write about her. Would they call her a Black Widow? No, she decided as she laid there in the dark listening to the wind. She had no intention of remarrying, after all, and certainly wouldn’t kill another man. But they’d come up with some other offensive nickname for her, labeling her without really knowing her heart. 
Elain fell asleep easier than she’d expected to, though her dreams were confusing and vivid. She was back in that swamp, wading deeper and deeper into the water as something made its way toward her, gold eyes reflecting the moonlight onto the water. Blood—no, hair—fanned out behind the creature and when he raised his head to smile, teeth sharpened to a point.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice cutting through the still night. Elain couldn’t move, frozen in place as he came further and further out of the water. The green on his neck, she realized, wasn’t a tattoo but scales and behind him, a tail propelled him forward just as surely as his legs did.
She couldn’t scream. Trapped in mud, Elain could only stand as he came closer and closer, water dripping from his bare chest. The opaque water obscured his bottom half which was for the best—she was certain she didn’t want to see it. 
He reached out to touch her, golden skin somehow glowing in the moonlight, and—
Elain woke to the sound of thunder, sheets sticking to her sweat soaked skin. The doors to the balcony attached to her bedroom were flung open and though it wasn’t raining yet, puddles of water pooled on the tile floor. Elain sighed loudly, palm pressed right above her breast in an attempt to silence her screaming heart.
It was just a dream. A nightmare, truly, borne of her guilty mind and her fear she was going to be caught. Elain forced herself to get up, grab a towel from the bathroom, and wipe up the water. This time, she made sure she locked the balcony doors so the wind wouldn’t blow them open before she crawled back into bed.
The nightmares were the same, though. 
And when she woke, the doors were opened again.
Unwilling to take it lying down, Elain went down to the front desk to ask if she could be moved. Her doors, she explained ruefully—if there was a hurricane, she didn’t want to deal with water flying in. The person at the front desk was far less sympathetic to Elain’s cause and though they didn’t say so, it was clear they thought she and everyone else still at the resort was an idiot.
She tried not to let it bother her. 
She needed to just stick to her plan. It was a terrible plan, admittedly, but it was too late to back out, now. Elain spent the day sitting outside by the pool holding a book in her hand, too nervous to read even a page. She kept waiting for the police to descend on her, led by the man haunting her nightmares.
There she is, he’d say with open accusation. There’s the woman who murdered her husband and thought she could get away with it. 
They didn’t come. Frantically checking the news every couple of minutes, Elain found more warnings of the tropical storm about to descend on them, found other stories of murder, but nothing about her. No one had called to check in on Gray—not even the woman he was having an affair with. Elain had his phone sitting on her bedside table, monitoring it for anyone who might be worried about him.
No one was. 
It was almost too easy. 
If it hadn’t been for the nightmares, Elain might have just turned around and gone home. Maybe that would have silenced her nightmares. Elain dreamt of the man again, noting the way the green scales seemed more repetilian than those of a tattoo. This time, as Elain waded into the swampy water, she found her voice again.
“Who are you?” she asked, white nightgown floating around her.
He offered her a truly terrifying smile, those teeth tinged red in the moonlight. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he told her again, his voice a haunting melody. 
“Why?”
He was close enough she could smell the earthy scent of him. It was familiar, somehow, though she was certain she’d remember if she’d seen him before.
He merely cocked his head, standing to his full height. Water sluiced off his body and though she knew this was merely a dream from her stressed out and panicked brain, Elain’s eyes dipped between his legs all the same. Now she knew it was a dream because men should only have one appendage…and this man had two. What was wrong with her? 
He didn’t seem concerned with her gaze—not amused nor offended. Instead, he stepped forward, reaching for a long curl between two long, strong fingers.
“Mate,” he whispered, reaching for her before she could stumble back. It was just a dream, she told herself…and yet it felt real. Elain swore she could feel the sharpened claws against her back just as surely as she could feel the warm water enveloping her.
“What about alligators?” she breathed, earning a soft chuckle from the creature holding her.
“You don’t need to worry about anything harming you,” he said, dipping his head to run his nose along the shell of her ear. 
“Because this is a dream,” she said, eyes closed.
Another laugh drew shivers up her spine. “Whatever you say.”
But it was a dream, even if it felt real. She knew she’d wake up and the door would be open because subconsciously she wanted to get caught. “What’s your name?”
“Lucien,” he replied, running a finger over her cheek. How long had it been since someone had touched her like this? Like she was special, cherished—loved? 
“Why are you waiting for me?” she questioned, deciding if it really was a dream, maybe it didn’t have to be a nightmare. Maybe she could enjoy herself in the privacy of her strange fantasies. Maybe the scales, which she found softer than she expected them to be, were representative of something. 
“You’re my mate,” he murmured. Hadn’t she just read a book about that? The men hadn’t been so strange looking—merely more handsome versions of humans, their ears a little pointed, their teeth a little sharper. Elain relaxed in his arms as she realized she was merely trapped in a strange dream about the men she read in books.
“Of course,” she said, amusement lacing her tone. He cocked his head, wet hair plastered to his bare shoulder.
“You don’t believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elain declared blithely, kicking her feet gently in the water between them. “I think I left a body in here.”
“He’s gone now,” Lucien informed her. Oh, how Elain wished that was true. “Who was he to you?”
“My husband,” she said mirthfully as she inclined her head toward the moon overhead. “He yelled a lot.”
Lucien’s grip around her body tightened. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not in the ways that matter.”
“They matter to me,” he said, and of course they did. Elain loved herself and this man was merely an extension of her own mind. Still, pretend or not, it felt good to have someone care about her. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him, turning to look him back in the eyes. It was here she found those scars again and wondered what had caused them. Would her mind fill in the gaps for her? “Who did this to you?”
He chuckled, catching her wrist to press a kiss to her open palm as she tried to run her fingers over the grooves. “Another male was interested in my territory. He tried to take my eye, I took his throat.”
“How very vicious of you,” she teased. “Are you half alligator, then?”
“Simply put, I suppose,” he said, the amusement in his gaze sharpening to something she didn’t recognize. It was almost desperation that stared back, a plea to know something she had only forgotten. Elain felt the strangest rush of deja vu, though it faded into the night before she could grasp it, a balloon whose string was just out of reach. 
“What are you? Can I ask that?”
“You can ask me anything you like,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave. Elain felt a rush of want as he waded further into the water, clearly unconcerned with the lurking danger. 
“I am…” he trailed off, clearly trying to find the words before he turned to look at her again. Elain was tracing the scales adorning his shoulders and neck like tattoos, trying to remember the last time she’d touched anything reptilian. “Old, I suppose.”
“How old?”
“Old,” he emphasized. 
“You don’t look old,” she said, half laughing at how predictable her daydreams were. 
“I age slowly,” he informed her solemnly. “You did once, too.” “Oh? Before what?”
Skimming his hand over the top of the opaque water, he said, “You’re my curse, now.”
“How do you break the curse?”
Those strange, reflective eyes found the same glassy water they were floating in. He didn’t say, but Elain knew because this was her dream, her fantasy, her imagination. “It’s love, isn’t it?”
He looked so hopeful as he met her gaze. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. 
It was a dream. “You seem like you’d be extremely easy to love.”
Pressing his forehead against her own, Lucien exhaled softly. “Let me show you.”
Lucien brought them to the opposite end of the swamp, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fact that she was openly staring at him. Well, not at him so much as what was slowly rising between his legs—two appendages, one longer than the other by a good inch. Elain didn’t need him to explain how they worked, though she was curious as to the point. Surely, from an evolutionary standpoint, one was enough? 
Taking his hand, Elain let him lift her from the water, well aware he was just as fascinated by her form which was no longer hidden given the way her nightdress clung to her body. 
“What are you going to show me?”
Lucien didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her, sharp teeth grazing her bottom lip. Elain let him, reflecting that even though this man was a monstrous figment of her imagination, it had been a while since someone kissed her like they meant it. Like they wanted her. Maybe, she thought, this was some kind of weird metaphor. The only man who could ever love her was a monster, after all—just like Graysen.
Or maybe she was the monster.
After all, she was the murderer. Lucien was just a man she’d seen in the swamp that would one day testify at her trial while she remembered how they’d had sex in a dream. Elain kissed him back, surprised to find he tasted warm and sweet—like a warm, summer day. This was the type of dream she liked—the sort where she could feel pleasure without the endless guilt that seemed to fill her. 
She could taste blood in her mouth, slipping back into her throat as his tongue chased after it, kissing her with a frenzied hunger that Elain wished was real. The trick was not waking up before she came—Elain had never quite mastered that 
She knew it was a dream for sure when he lifted her nightdress, swatting her hand when she tried to touch his bare skin. 
“Just you,” he breathed, scales glinting in the moonlight. No man would ever, she decided as Lucien ran his own hands down her now naked form. It was almost like touching herself, forcing an awareness of her body that Elain rarely had. She didn’t pay attention to how it felt when someone's fingers teased her breasts or the way cool skin felt against her own. Or, she hadn’t in so long she’d forgotten what true pleasure could be like and he hadn’t really done anything. 
“What do you like?” he asked through a heavy breath of humid air. 
“I…” Elain was suddenly too embarrassed to tell him. Everything felt real—Lucien sank to muscular knees, his thick tail curling around the pair of them.
“Do you like this?” he asked in a husky voice as his forked tongue traced shapes against her upper thigh. To keep balance, Elain slid her fingers into his thick, silken hair. 
“Yes,” she admitted while he lifted her leg up off the ground, hooking it over his broad shoulder. Little ridges adorned his spine, flexible when her toe brushed up against one. Elain was fascinated with his form—more man than creature, but not human at all. She might have demanded an answer had that tongue of his not licked up the length of her.
Elain nearly toppled over, but Lucien wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her closer while cupping her ass in one of his large, strong hands. He groaned with pleasure, the sound drowning out the screaming, watchful cicadas in the background.
“And this?” he demanded, licking again.
“Yes,” she breathed, head thrown back so she could look up at the stars. If she’s been more articulate, she would have told him that she liked it too much, and Gray had never wanted to do it. It took too long, he’d complained which of course only made it take longer. Elain was so self conscious every time he did go down that she never finished and often just counted to two hundred, faked it, and let him move on. 
“I need to taste you,” Lucien informed her, pulling her so close against him she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. She would have told him he was already tasting her if she’d been braver and less afraid that at any moment she was going to wake up and realize the whole thing was just a really weird, yet really good dream. 
Because it was her dream, Elain didn’t have to worry she was taking too long. In fact, Elain wanted to drag her pleasure out. His tongue was just rough enough to provide the smallest amount of friction while his mouth was otherwise soft and warm. Perfect, she decided with a sigh. 
She wanted to spread herself out. Maybe Lucien knew it, or maybe the ground merely hurt his knees. All she knew for certain was in the span it took to draw breath, Lucien was on his back and she was straddling his face, staring down the length of his rigid, muscular body. She wanted to touch him and so she did, spreading her legs as wide as she could get away with so she could lean against him.
Lucien moaned when she pressed a kiss against his stomach. Distracted, she half forgot what he was doing with his mouth. It was just…well, two cocks were endlessly fascinating to her. Why? What was the point? Elain reached between his legs and took the thicker, larger one in her hand. It was ridged, she realized with wild desperation. What would it feel like? Would her mind even know? Was she imagining this because she’d been shopping for vibrators a month earlier and stumbled upon some truly strange looking dildos? 
“Fuck,” Lucien panted, inclining his head away from her swollen pussy to look at her. “You don’t—it’s fine, just…just come here—”
Lucien put his mouth back on her with a vengeance, determined to distract her so thoroughly she couldn’t pleasure him, too. It was a game now, trying to get him off even as waves of pleasure began to build in her chest, threatening to drown her at any moment. Had anything felt better? 
Lucien writhed beneath her, prompting Elain to reach around for the second one and grip it, too. He gasped, breath warm against her throbbing cunt, before returning to licking circles around her clit. 
They came within seconds of each other—though Elain didn’t get to see any of it. Body throbbing, the sound of thunder crashing pulled her from her dream, body still roiling from her orgasm.
“Christ alive,” Elain swore softly, pushing the blankets from her body to close the balcony doors again. She knew she’d locked them before bed, had pulled the handles to be sure they were firmly locked.
Water was pooled on the floor again, her bare feet splashing in puddles as she made her way back to the ensuite bathroom. All Elain could think about was the man—the stranger she couldn’t stop dreaming about and his strange, inhuman features.
She’d nearly forgotten why she was dreaming about him. It was only after Elain had cleaned everything up did she recall that oh, right. She’d killed her husband and her brain was apparently trying to decode this information in the form of giving a strange swamp man two penises. 
Elain was going insane. Seeing things that weren’t there, manifesting her own downfall. Was this what if felt like to be haunted? Only, there were no ghosts—only her own guilt tormenting her while she slept. 
Elain shoved a chair against the balcony doors before she went back to bed, forced to lay on the opposite end because the mattress felt wet, too. Sweat, surely.. And the swamp man didn’t return, though when she woke the chair was back in its original place beside the window and the doors were open again. Outside, the world had gone red, the sky tinged with blood. Elain felt as though she’d manifested it herself, though that was pure arrogance to think she had any affect on the weather. 
Her phone was screaming at her to get out, pinging emergency instructions from the resort on where to go when the hurricane made landfall. Elain planted herself in her bedroom determined to see this lie through. It was the kind of thing Gray would do, besides—he never too much stock in the hysterics, as he called it. 
And she was so pathetic that she would have sat beside him and waited to die. Elain told herself she’d be fine, even as fear skittered up her spine. Sirens blared just outside and when she stepped toward the window, Elain could see the storm on the horizon. She took a breath, intending to go sit back in bed and try and read her book. Elain would have, too, had she not seen him coming out the sea itself, eyes trained on her bedroom window. He was merely a dot, a doll walking so far below her Elain was positive he couldn’t see her. 
And yet she knew he could. Wind whipped around him, blowing his hair this way and that though he didn’t seem bothered by it. Elain watched, mouth half open, as a palm tree was shoved violently to the ground as though a giant hand had pushed it there. But the man didn’t budge, kept walking as though it were a perfectly normal day.
Oh god.
Elain rushed to the door, locking it before making her way out of her bedroom. Where was she going to go? She turned, standing in the living area, eyes trained on the beach. The man was gone and for a moment, Elain consoled herself that she was just crazy. He didn’t exist, her mind had merely snapped and when this was all over, she’d check herself into an asylum. 
Elain looked away for a moment, turning toward the little kitchenette she hadn’t used. “You’re okay—” The glass shattered, sending Elain flying to the floor, arms thrown over her head to avoid getting hit by debris. Unable to hear her own thoughts over the wind, Elain tried to recall what she should do in the middle of a hurricane.
Cool fingers curled around her upper arm, hoisting her up into the air. Elain turned her head, horrified to find herself cradled against the half naked skin of the strangely scaled man. “You,” she accused, certain all this was his doing.
His smile was grim, eyes wide and round. He looked scared. “Me,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the noise. “It’s time to go home.”
“I’m not going—” the wind screamed as water pelted the pair of them, stinging her skin with each new assault. He didn’t seem concerned at all, ignoring the glass crunching underneath them as he walked her toward the bedroom. 
“We’re going to die—”
“You’re going to remember,” Lucien interrupted, tail swishing angrily behind him. He looked catlike in the stormy dark, eyes glowing like sunlight cutting through shadow. 
“You’re not real,” she breathed as he ripped her night dress in half. He certainly felt real.
“You know me,” he breathed, staring down at her. “You love me.”
“You’re a monster,” she replied.
Lucien grinned, betraying two rows of sharp teeth. “I’ll show you a monster.”
She tried to push him away but Lucien knew better. Knew he could have her if he wanted her—had already touched her, tasted her. Her protests were weak, silenced the moment his mouth was back on hers. He was real—they were real. She almost forgot about the screaming wind rattling the windows and pushing glass around the living area. 
“You brought me an offering,” Lucien panted, hitching her leg up around his now bare waist. When had he taken off his pants? “Tell me you love me.”
“What offering—”
“The body. Your husband,” he spat, eyes darkening at the memory. “Tell me you love me.”
“I hate you,” she replied as he wrapped both hands around her bare thighs and wrenched them open.
“Wrong answer,” he replied. Elain kicked at his chest as Lucien lined himself up not just with her pussy, but her ass, too. 
Their eyes met. “Does this feel real, now?” he whispered, inching himself forward just enough to punch the lungs from her breath. “You know me.”
“I don’t,” she replied as something metallic lodged itself in her nose. The world was ending in an explosion of air and water and yet a strange bubble seemed to exist around them. Words, just on the tip of her tongue, if only she could remember them, begged to be released. To finish a spell long since cast.
Lucien waited for a heartbeat, his hope etched over his features. When Elain said nothing, Lucien pressed himself closer to her, cocks intruding on her body like an old, familiar friend. Elain swore she’d never felt anything like it and yet her body stretched on instinct to accommodate him. Even when Elain wriggled, trying to create some resistance, her body simply allowed him to slide easily inside.
“Why two?” she panted, gritting her teeth to adjust to the feeling of being stretched to capacity. 
“I can’t impregnate my mate if she doesn’t feel pleasure,” he replied breathlessly. His hair fell like a sunlit curtain between them, his eyes bright and earnest.
“Lucien,” she breathed, nails cutting against his biceps. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you—but who are you?
“Yes,” he managed, pulling himself out of the sticky wet that was her body. Spitting in his hand, Lucien lubricated his shaft now halfway buried in her ass before he thrust himself back in and
Elain was forced to admit that it all felt good. Her back arched of its own accord, eyes rolling upward in her skull. The ridges lining his cock made each new thrust sharper, the pleasure brighter. 
“Our bond goes beyond marriage,” Lucien told her as colors filled her vision. “What we have is stronger than love.” His fingers stroked between her legs, rubbing tight circles around her clit until Elain was panting and writhing. She was going to come right alongside the hurricane bearing her name and then what? The windows would give way and the world would one day know of the woman who died because she decided fucking was more important than evacuating.
She didn’t care. Elain pulled him closer, running her hand over the flexible spines running the length of his back until she found the tail protruding just above the swell of his ass. 
“Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist. Lucien whined in response, sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran his nose along her own.
“I can’t stop,” he told her, pressing a kiss along the corner of her mouth. “If you don’t say it, we start all over.”
“I love you,” she said, half meaning it. What did hurt, she decided? He was so obviously insane and maybe so was she, because she was still fucking him, wasn’t she? Maybe this was what she deserved. 
Lucien’s pace quickened and with each new thrust a new memory came flooding through her awareness. A cottage on the edge of a swap, a cauldron filled with bubbling liquid. A male half hidden in the water, gold tinged eyes looking for predators as his red hair fanned out behind him.
Amarantha.
Her horrible bargain.
Elains vision.
“Lucien,” she said, fisting his hair so he had to look back at him. He recognized her words, the look on her face.
“You’re back,” he whispered, still thrusting into her though his rhythm slipped into wild, animalistic thrusting. 
“You feel exactly as I remember,” she told him, dragging her nails down his back. “What took you so long?”
“Let a man wallow for a century or two,” Lucien replied, kissing her again. “Come for me. Now.”
She did, though not because he told her to— because she was already desperate and close and Lucien was pushing every button she had. Elain tightened around him as Lucien babbled unintelligibly about how wet and tight she was. Some things, she supposed, would never change. The world would.
But not them. Never them.
Lucien came loudly, roaring over the wind she’d forgotten about. Was there a hurricane? Had she been afraid of it? That seemed almost laughable to her now. Turning her head as Lucien buried his own in the crook of her neck, Elain stared out the window coated in violet raindrops. 
For a moment, the storm was the only sound between them. 
“You borrowed my magic,” Elain accused once his breathing steadied. She could feel his come leaking down her leg, slipping between the spaces his cocks occupied.
“You didn’t know how to use it,” Lucien replied with a sheepish grin. 
Elain poked him in the ribs. “Is she dead?”
“Not yet,” he told her, gaze darkening. “Feyre drove her out a century before.”
“Let's finish it, then.”
“In time,” Lucien promised, withdrawing himself so he could offer her his hand. “Home, first.”
Elain grinned. “Home, then.”
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elasbubble · 3 days
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I watched 911 kinda regularly - without really being part of the fandom. Which to be honest seems to be healthier. Some fans are super intense and obsessed with the idea of Buck and Eddie. I never saw it really but I have to say I really like the development with Buck and Tommy.
So I never shipped Buck and Eddie romantically. I love their relationship and how close they are but I never thought there is more or there needs to be more. Now that I checked some tags here I see how popular they are and how many think that this recent development means that Buck and Eddie become a thing.
And of course I cannot say this never will be an option also regarding with how much attention they get even now. But there are some things that do not make sense to me if the plan is to pair them up.
Because A) to make them a couple they kinda have to repeat the storyline again. Buck - mostly presented as straight for six seasons - realized he is also interested in men. So at one point Eddie - who has also been only presented as straight so far - has to go through the same process to make them become a thing. So the audience would see a very similar storyline twice. And I can’t imagine that the show runners would just tell the same story again.
B) If the plan is to put these two together - why include the detour with Tommy. Why not just tell the storyline with Eddie from the start. Have them experience a very close moment in which both realize - oh it’s you who I love. Because Eddie needs to have the realisation at one point anyways to make this work. So they could just tell the story with the two of them.
C) If Buck and Eddie are together. The creators would limit themselves in telling future stories. Because Eddie and Buck already share a lot of screen time. Also have them be romantically involved would make it almost impossible to separate them and show them with other characters. It would be like work together, hang out together, go home together etc etc. So far, their individual love interests - apart from family issues - is pretty much the only thing that kinda separates them and allows the creators to tell individual storylines.
D) What would really change when they are together? Kinda goes hand in hand with the previous point. Both are super close. They care about each other. They love each other. What would change if they become a couple. Nothing except they might kiss here and there. The dynamics will remain pretty much the same.
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mikashisus · 3 days
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no but just think about how much of an influence mondstadt has had on our journey thru genshin.
we started out there (probably for a reason that will be explained in future lore) and we met the god of freedom who also had a HUGE influence on our journey thus far.
and like, it makes me wonder what would’ve happened if we started out in any of the other nations. would the traveler have had the same mindset and/or morals they do now? would they have the same views on venti? or mondstadt?
i wonder what would’ve happened if the traveler didn’t go to mondstadt until much later. venti’s influence would be different, the traveler’s views on him would be different, as well as their whole mindset…
and most importantly, they’d probably be more aware of venti’s lies and deception. if mondstadt’s quest came out after sumeru, the traveler would’ve known first and foremost that venti is most likely the most powerful archon.
and they might’ve been wayyy more wary around him bc they wouldn’t have had his influence of “im the weakest so i have little to no power, therefore u shouldnt assume im dangerous”.
they might’ve believed that venti is a threat bc of his power instead.
there’s so many “what if”s. rlly makes u realize how much of an impact mondstadt has had on the game and its playerbase.
also the thought of the anemo archon being faceless and a whole mysterious entity with lore scattered EVERYWHERE until his release is extremely funny to me
like just imagine if venti’s character was entirely faceless and the only things we knew about him were him as an archon from lore crumbs scattered throughout the game and npcs in different regions. and then his eventual reveal that would bring a lot of hype
also i feel like his kit would be more cracked if he was released later in the game. but that’s just me
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simonsapelsin · 3 days
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Fics That I Won't Write For Wille's Month But You Can If You Want To
Feel free to use any of these ideas, which vary in quality. 🤭 Maybe there's a good one? Who knows!
Sandwich
Wilhelm declares it to be the Month of Sandwiches: he makes a different kind of sandwich for Simon every day for a month and Simon rates them.
Summer
Wilhelm has an amazing summer with Simon but it's coming to an end. He says, “I wish this summer would never end,” and then when he wakes up the next day, it's the same day again, and again, etc, groundhog day style
Literature
Wilhelm studies literature in university and ends up teaching it back at Hillerska.
Revolution
The monarchy is abolished. Twenty years later, Wilhelm is interviewed about it.
Cooking/Baking
Wilhelm goes to culinary school with Felice and becomes a pastry chef in her restaurant.
Video games
AU where Wilhelm is a virtual reality video game character that Simon falls in love with (or the other way around)
Erik
Wilhelm finds Erik's letter to his future self.
Wedding/Engagement
5 times Wilhelm and Simon are guests at weddings and one time they have their own kind of wedding.
Riding
5 times Simon watches Wilhelm ride a horse and one time Wilhelm rides Simon.
Secret
Wilhelm nervously tells Simon about a secret fantasy he has. Simon is very much into it.
Future
Future Wilmon AU. Year 2222. Wilmon in space.
Social media
Maddie sends Wilhelm a link to a tumblr blog about the Swedish royal family. He has many thoughts and feelings about it.
Lake
Late in the summer, Wilhelm and Simon return to Hillerska to go swimming again in the lake.
Mental health
Adult Wilhelm starts a foundation to support youth mental health initiatives.
Fashion/style
Missing moment: the origins of The Pink Sweater and The Studded Jacket
Friends
Felice is going through a very tough time and good friend Wilhelm is there to support her.
Joy
Wilhelm is a new father realizing all the ways his son's childhood will be very different from his own.
Soulmates
Simon asks Wilhelm, “Do you believe in soulmates?”
Frogs
Wilmon have a baby and Wilhelm can't help but buy every tiny frog-themed item of clothing he can find. Frog onesies, frog booties, frog hats, etc.
Movie
Adult Wilhelm learns that someone wants to make a movie about his life.
Family
The first conversation Wilhelm has with his parents after driving away.
Party
Felice, Simon, and Sara organize a belated birthday party for Wilhelm at the karaoke place.
Freedom
Wilhelm and Simon go on a late night summer bike ride around Bjärstad.
Vacation/holiday
Wilhelm tries to learn Spanish in preparation for a trip to Venezuela with the Erikssons.
Hands
Simon watches Wilhelm do things with his hands.
Date
Wilhelm plans the perfect date but everything goes wrong.
Dream
AU where Wilhelm's dreams keep coming true.
Birthday
Missing moment: What happens to the gifts that Wilhelm flung about on his birthday?
Music
It's the 90s and Wilmon have been forced apart and now go to different schools, but they have a secret long distance relationship via letters and mix tapes.
Fantasy/fairytale
Simon has been turned into a frog by the evil wizard August and Wilhelm goes on a long and dangerous quest to lift the curse. He talks to Simon the whole time and Simon ribbits back.
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yuri-is-online · 21 hours
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Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.
Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?
Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?
Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying
ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.
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No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.
Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.
Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?
Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)
Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?
Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...
(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)
Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-
Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.
Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)
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yxami · 17 hours
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On my break and wrote a blurb
The stones leading up to the store you were a regular at were always slippery, even more when it rained, some were even starting to grow some moss.
It was always the same routine, so repetitive to the point where the worker didn’t have to worry about what you wanted, he already knew.
He might’ve also known from the fact that he’s memorized your face since your first meeting, hoping you’d come back ever since then, and you have, everyday.
He’s so in love his heart hurts each time you have to leave, like a hand squeezing it so tightly. He might need to schedule an appointment for it soon, but even then what can he say? He’s so head over heels that his heart can barely remember what it’s been trained to do for two decades.
“The usual right?” He sheepishly says, hoping he can gain more confidence to recommend you something.
“Yeah! same thing please” You grin, happy that he’s remembered, you like this worker, he’s nice and reminds you of an old friend.
“Oh, right! I was gonna to ask if I could get your number, if not then it’s totally cool” You spoke again, grabbing out your phone to double down just incase he was confused. You were doing it platonically while also trying to work up your confidence.
Who knows, maybe this would be your future boyfriend, a cute food guy who you see everyday.
“Sorry?” He says, looking like a cat without any thought behind his eyes, as soon as he does realize what you mean he turns so red you think he might blow up from whatever emotion he’s feeling.
“Number! Number right- I knew that I- sorry” He rambles, wanting to shoot himself for stuttering so much, he shuts himself up and grabs your phone, writing it down in your notes and calling himself so you’d have it in your caller list as well.
“Thanks! Well, I gotta run to work now, I’ll see your tomorrow?”
“Yeah- ha I’ll see you tomorrow, thank you” He says, wanting to look down in embarrassment but unable to since he was so entranced by your beauty, you were so easily confident, his heart might explode.
He can’t wait to see you, maybe he’ll visit you tonight again, even if it was from outside your house without you knowing.
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mollysunder · 1 day
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I always liked this shot in the Firelights mv, and I didn't know why until I saw this storyboard draft of the same scene.
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This shot is wrapped in Jinx and Silco calling cards! In the draft they were less subtle, the bullets had the kind of scratchy doodles that Jinx would draw, instead they went for the elegant spirals of Jinx's cloud tattoos. The tattoos that represent the smoke clouds of her hexcrystal bomb, of her first kills, both on purpose and by accident.
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And the mask!
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The firelight mask in the storyboard is fractured in a way that resembles Silco's scars! What makes it better is that the firelight, their symbol of hope, the future, who they are, crawls out of the fractured left eye.
Altogether this shot was probably meant to do two things:
It served to represent that without the Firelights' hope and optimism, you're left with people like Jinx and Silco. People that live like they're already dead and untether themselves from their own humanity to achieve their goals.
It was supposed to foreshadow the fact that Jinx would kill Silco! When the firelight (the soul) flew out of Eve's mask, we the audience understood that it represented her death. When the firelight not only comes out of the left eye (Silco's dying eye) but the mask was originally intended to take on traits that resembled Silco's features, you realize Jinx's bullets aren't just there to say she killed Eve, but that she'll kill Silco too!
It's great! It's awful! I need to find more!
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So I'm personally a fan of fics where the characters react to their show/game/book/etc, and how they react to the things they never would have otherwise seen. What im saying is, In what ways do you think ratio would react to seeing aventurine in that last update? Seeing his past cutscenes that got shown, his conversations with his future self and seeing Aventurine's child form as well. Because theres so much there that ratio never would have gotten this perspective on otherwise and I have to wonder how hed feel about it. He probably already guessed that Aventurine had a rough life since he knows he used to be a slave, but thats different from seeing it first hand in his memories and to hear him basically admit to himself that hes tired, wishes that fate didnt curse him with his blessing, and really just wants to die. Like theres so much to explore here, especially from the view of Ratio who genuinely wants to help humanity seeing this
Oh that's a good question! The first thing that comes to my mind is that the more Aventurine expresses his desire to die, the more Ratio would be stressing out about the possibility that he might forget to open his note, that Aventurine might never know that someone did care. And he would be beyond relieved once Acheron does remind Aventurine to read it.
As for him witnessing Aventurine's past, I think that after seeing everything he went through, he would feel kind of guilty for not realizing that the power of the Harmony would put him back through all those bad memories and for not being there for him as he slowly fell apart (even though Ratio staying away and pretending he didn't care was part of Aventurine's plan). At the same time, he would also be impressed by Aventurine's resilience, by how he managed to make it out alive despite all the odds that were pitted against him. It would confirm what Ratio already suspected: that Aventurine is far more clever than anyone gives him credit for.
Most of all, I think Ratio would be dying to find a way to reach out to him, even in a situation he knows it isn't logically possible, because he sure cares so much for Aventurine, though he might not be the greatest at expressing it. I can also see him scribbling on his tablet as he writes down everything he should say/do the next time he sees Aventurine, because the last thing he wants is to screw it up and to make Aventurine feel even worse about himself.
(Oh, and after seeing all that, he would be furious at Sunday for the psychological torture he put Aventurine through)
I'm sure there would be many more things to say about his reactions, but this is what first came to me after reading your ask! And once again, thanks for sharing your thoughts about them with me 😊
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waterfire1848 · 3 days
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Hi @waterfire1848 !!!
You know I just realized something, but Azula (partially) gets the Yoda treatment in your fic “it’s a blessing and a curse”. I means she’s the smallest of the dragons, nor is she the strongest, but Azula is probably the fastest and the most powerful Fire bender of the bunch (sorry Ozai but you know it’s true).
I also have a question, say Katara marries Azula when the curse is still active, would she become some sort of water, ice, and/or frost dragon? Same thing with Sokka and Zuko?
Hey @745voiceofthepeople!! It's been a minute! How are you?
Azula isn't the strongest firebender YET but she will become the strongest. She's already the fastest though because she's smaller and slender, especially when she's younger she's a very fast little dragon.
I don't want to give too many spoilers but yes. I do plan on having Katara and Sokka became dragons alongside Azula and Zuko. The final (two?) chapters will be kind of a leap into the future where we get to see the two ships get married, have kids and will also see Katara and Sokka adjusting to being part dragon now. That being said, I don't know what kind of dragons they'll be. Now that you say water, ice/frost I kind of want to give them an ability aside from firebreathing, both to show off their WT roots and to show that the curse can adapt.
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thelunarfairy · 3 days
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i don't know how to describe hanako. Yashiro always wants her by her side, so he loves her. They both do the impossible to be together, but the person hanako wants is his little twin brother . Everytime he holds him , tsukasa runs away from him . Why don't you want to be with your brother 🤔🤔😭😭!!??
Tsukasa realized that in order for Amane to survive, he would have to sacrifice himself for him. As long as Hanako insists, he won't be able to have a future.
It was the premise we had in the other reality, now that things are different in this reality, I wonder if Tsukasa will continue with the same behavior.
Remembering that Tsukasa believes that Hanako hates him, so he feels it is better to leave.
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somnimagus · 1 year
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Ohh if MoM would let me this is still The Ideal Team I would assemble based on who's the funniest to watch run
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andthebeanstalk · 8 months
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Betty is so relatable I would do the same shit for my wife
#simon petrikov#original#at#the moment where she declares that she's jumping into the future to save him. just pure save-husband impulse#and maybe she made the wrong choice but I felt the emotion in my gut and that's good tragedy baby#I would do the same thing and then be in the future and realize I probably fucked up but also what else could I do but#devote my entire life and sanity to saving her after I have destroyed every other option??#it's not healthy necessarily but a fucking apocalypse happened and her wife is in eternal torment. what else could she possibly do??#I'm just obsessed with the attitude she has towards saving him and how it turns from joyful heroism to unhealthy obsession#I have a much healthier relationship with my wife. but also she's never been driven mad by a magical crowd for a thousand years!#and Betty did it!! y'all can argue about whether Ice King was better than Simon and I think he must make peace with every part of himself#but it is extremely consistent in the original series that being Ice King is basically this existentially horrifying Eternal torture#so the fact that someone who loved him decided they would save him from that at all costs is very sad and very beautiful#beautiful because no one deserves to suffer forever. tragic because she was far to willing to take his place if she had to.#betty grof#fionna and cake#golbetty#golb#*driven mad by a magical crown#you forgot your floaties#edit: upon rewatching every episode with betty in it i will say i don't think i would be so hellbent on murdering the person she had become#betty does act selfishly and it makes her character more compelling#but i like to think if my wife went banana-pants ice-king-level bonkers i would be able to love that version of her too#but who's to say whether this story would be the reason I responded differently?#it's a good story
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There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.
#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz#ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and#then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc.#Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific#cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or#etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as#you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on#accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have#as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence#of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate#versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a#neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest#ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling#and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for#documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like#sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I#can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If#I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my#ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ??#Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be#accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor#focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it#were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan#that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is#some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my#kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means#i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m#in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in#one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability#& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER
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