#but the rich man savior thing is…irritating as fuck

[gentleman-todd]

[ source: (S2) Ep.100 - Enough (Part 1) ]

I’m sorry, but why do we keep continuing to act as if Jason was out on the streets jacking tires because he felt like it?

Why frame this as Jason just being an angry kid doing angry kid things because he’s parentless (or powerless and lashing out or whatever) when he was stealing the tires off the batmobile so he could feed himself because he was disadvantaged - ie: homeless. He was fucking homeless - ?

I’m probably nitpicking, but I don’t give a shit. Also, the narrative that Bruce is who “made” Jason a good person “against all the odds” is such bullshit.

[badfictropes]

Savior Complex in Teen Mom Danny Dp x Dc

(Warning: I enjoy these type of fics and prompts just expressing some of my frustrations about certain things. No hate towards anyone.)

So I want to start by saying I love mom Danny who is the mom of Dani and Dan if they are deaged or not and Vlad as Dani and Dan’s father but I find when people mix in dc they tend to make Danny into some poor abused thing that needs the big bad bats to save him and his children. Which in itself wouldn’t be such a bad thing but add in the Batfam stalking and manipulating Danny and it just irritates me.

In these stories Danny and his kids are on the run from Vlad usually or his parents and they end up in Gotham, good so far. Then they somehow catch the attention of the bats which is where I stop, to be fair at least half the time Danny or the kids get mixed up with a rouge or are revealed to be metas(or at least dc characters think so) which is its own prejudice I’ll come back to. So catching the bats attention; now I don’t mean to be insensitive but I would bet cash money that a mom(young in Danny’s case) on the run and hiding out with his kids from an abusive baby daddy is a dime a dozen in Gotham, I just can’t believe that teen pregnancy or young parents let along someone on the run from an abuser is all that unusual in a city like Gotham that the bats would have their attention and pity so utterly caught by Danny.

This is usually where Danny, Dani and Dan being mistaken for metas come in and like making the bats so suspicious and curious of Danny and his kids because the bats think they’re metas and might be dangerous just gives me prejudice. Like I refuse to believe there isn’t a population of metas in Gotham, so the bats intense interest in the Dannie’s is just annoying. So what comes after that is the Batfam stalking Danny both researching him CIA extensively and inserting themselves in his life and trying to manipulate answers out of him. Now we all know in the real world researching and investigating an abuse survivor and escapee like people write Danny being in this way would be a sure fire way of his abuser finding him and his kids but we’re not taking about the real world so we’ll ignore this, we’ll focus on the fact that it’s just creepy and invasive especially since Danny usually doesn’t even do anything criminal which is what the bats should be focused on, you know crime.

Inserting their way into Danny and his kids life is the real thing that bothers me. The bats just come off to me as being invasive and manipulative by forcing their presence and help on someone who didn’t ask for it and doesn’t want it when it’s offered. The bats are purposeful in inserting themselves in his life and not even just in costume but as civilians to, poor Danny who just wants to be left alone and raise his kids can’t escape them. The Bats seemingly unstoppable desire to know Danny secrets and past as if he’s not entitled to have things he wants to forget or doesn’t want anyone to know. Like I said Danny story in this trope is sadly not exactly unique especially when you take the ghost stuff out it, Danny being a young mom who got caught up with an older rich man who took advantage of him and left him running with two children is not something I see being an unsual story in a crime infested corrupted city like Gotham. So the Bats intense interest in Danny and his kids should freak him the fuck out especially when you add him trying to hide his ghostly secrets into it.

What I’m trying to say is we need Danny being freaked out and scared of the Bats who for some reason will not leave him and his kids alone. Like Danny just wants to live an ordinary life with his kids and the Bats keep inserting themselves into it trying to help someone that doesn’t want their help like they’re intitled to do it. Now I love the Batfam but we all know that getting involved with them and heroes in general is just asking for trouble to invaded your life and I feel like this Danny has had enough trouble for a life time. Write a Danny going past fear into annoyance and anger at more people ignoring his no and not staying out of his and his kids lives when Danny tells them too. And instead of Danny putting up with the Bats shit he just uses his ability to create portals to leave to another dimension or world or into the ghost zone or just move into another city quickly and unnoticed.

And I know things with Danny and the kids and Vlad aren’t the misunderstandings(which I love) the Bats think it is but even if it was that doesn’t excuse their behavior. If I was Danny who just escaped a bad situation with my kids I wouldn’t want any of the drama and potential trauma being involved with the Bats and other heroes could bring. And the way that people write no hero in DC seemingly knows the meaning of no I don’t need your help and no you don’t have to save me, doesn’t help my annoyance. The last thing an abuse survivor raising two kids needs is a group of wealthy powerful men trying to play captain save a ho. After all drawing the attention of the Bats will draw the attention of their rouges and that’s the last thing Danny and his kids need.

All in all I just don’t like the stalking, breaking and ignoring of boundaries, lies and manipulation the Bats employ all under the guise of trying to save Danny, Dani and Dan. And this isn’t me dissing any stories just me ranting about some of my problems with this aspect of my favorite DP AU(mom Danny, dad Vlad and kids Dani and Dan).

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 1

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. 

Chapter 2

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Helloooo, beautiful people. I’m so excited about this story! This is now the official first part of the series, so it’s a prequel to the three oneshots I’ve already posted. If you haven’t read them, no worries, you can read this just fine. If you want to, just know they all have an established relationship and will reference the past, so you may possibly get spoiled. 

I plan for this to have five or so chapters, so buckle up, and as always, happy reading!

You’ve been expecting more.

Maybe that’s the wrong perspective to have. It’s still the military, and it’s still your first day and sure, that’s exciting and all, but you’ve heard stories. People always describe their first day of training as absolutely terrifying, but life-changing. They say that the first day is the day all the baby-faced cadets realize they’re in over their heads. It’s an introduction to the rest of their lives. At least, that’s the case for the people who stay. If one can’t handle a verbal beating, how can they stand any chance against the titans? The first day changes everything.

This, however, isn’t life-changing. It’s not terrifying. It’s rather...dull.

To be fair, the man in front doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it either.

You’ve heard of him, of course you have. Even back within Sina, people talk. A newcomer, a gift from the walls, humanity’s savior. Recently joined the Survey Corp and yet already a lieutenant, a definite shoe-in for the next available section commander position. Apparently his origins are a bit of a mystery, but he’s either the long lost son of a rich merchant or he’s come from outside the walls themselves because it’s just impossible that any common person can possess the skills he’s rumored to have. You’re not sure you believe all of it - apparently he’s so fast that the titans can’t even see him coming? yeah, sure - and yet there’s just something about him that gives off a truly well-earned confident aura. That’s been the most exciting part so far, the chance to see him up close, to see that he’s actually real.

Still, since he began talking, Lieutenant Levi hasn’t once raised his voice. He hasn’t screamed at them all for being the weakest pieces of shit he’s ever seen. He hasn’t even told them about how they’re going to train to become snacks for the titans. It’s disappointing. You’ve been ready to stand your ground, to show you’re made of some tough stuff. That can’t happen when your trainer won’t even bother to strike fear into your heart. Where other people may be relieved, you are mourning this loss of the traditional military experience.

At the very least, he’s not the actual trainer. He started his speech with a complaint that their actual instructor was sick for the day so now he had the absolute pleasure to welcome dozens of new fucking brats to their new home and occupation. His words drip with venom and boredom - clearly, he didn’t join to do any of this. It’s beneath him. All in all, Lieutenant Levi seems rather...arrogant. Maybe it’s well-deserved. But you don’t have to like it.

As he walks up to people at random who shout out their bare identities, the lieutenant snaps out comments that seem like they’re meant to bully rather than to frighten.

“Your posture is shit.”

“Oh wow, I bet the titans will be real scared of your noodle arms.”

“And here I thought these villages would send their best and brightest. Instead they sent you.”

But you’re not one to let things get to you so easily. You have your fist balled to your chest proudly, ready to serve humanity. You’ve fought to get where you are, and now you’re really, actually standing here, with your new comrades besides you, and you couldn’t be more proud. A bright smile settles on your face. You will make the best out of this, no matter your humanity-saving trainer’s dour mood. 

Unfortunately, said humanity-saving trainer takes notice of your smile, and with his gaze locked on his new target, he walks up to you, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“What’s your deal?”

You straighten your back, snap to attention, and look directly ahead as you know is appropriate. “Cadet (F/N) (L/N), sir, from Stohess District!”

His expression doesn’t throw you off, despite it looking like he’s never been so irritated in his life. You know you haven’t done anything wrong (at least not yet), so him looking that pissed off must be an internal issue, nothing to do with you. You’re not any different than any of the other cadets that have introduced themselves.

“Cadet (F/N) (L/N),” he says as though he’s testing out a brand new curse word, with just a hint of mockery in his voice. “I didn’t ask for your name or where you were from. I asked what your deal was.”

Well what in the holy hells is that supposed to mean?

Is what you want to say, but instead you simply furrow your brows and ask curly. “Sir?”

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” he clarifies, annoyance displayed clearly on his face.

Well damn, no need to be so edgy. You aren’t necessarily required to be as serious as everyone else here, and smiling isn’t a crime last time you checked. But this is obviously Lieutenant Levi’s thing, to be snarky and mean, and the sooner you answer, the sooner he’ll move on and find a new victim. “Just happy to be here, sir.”

Your smile stays right where it is.

“Oh, is that it?” He stares at you, deadpan. “You like the thought of being eaten? Does the idea just make your day? Do you fantasize about it at night? Let it lull you to sleep?”

Your smile grows a little strained.

Passion aggression is nothing new. You grew up in Stohess, you’re used to your fair share of cattiness. The lieutenant must take lessons from the tea-sipping high class ladies you’d basically grown up with, because he reminds you of them vividly. Ironic, considering you thought the military would be an escape to a life that was real and included less passive bullshit. It’s that frustration at the similarity that makes your polite mask crack.

The response slips through your lips before you can stop yourself. “No, sir, but last night I did happen to dream of a trainer that was tough enough to handle one of his subordinates smiling.”

You can be catty too. 

The grounds become more silent than they already were. It’s as though everyone is suddenly holding their breath at this new confrontation, just waiting to see what the newly dubbed hope of humanity will do if someone matches his sass. The loud silence is what finally makes you just a smidge nervous - surely, they won’t kick you out on your very first day just because of a smart comment, right?

Impatient and a bit anxious, you finally allow yourself to look directly in his eyes, and you’re suddenly stricken by how grey they are. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone with grey eyes. They’re damn gorgeous. And there’s a hint of...something in them, and to your surprise it’s not rage. He looks calculatingly gleeful, as though he’s just been waiting for someone to say something back to him. He appears cruel and delighted all at once, and the contrast of it along with the striking silver hue is more personality than you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes before.

It’s a breathtaking sight. You move in just a millionth of a centimeter to get a closer look -

And then he moves, lightning fast, reeling back and swinging his leg around to sweep your legs from under you. With a gasp, you hit the ground hard, head ringing and vision blurring for a few seconds. Your hair, which was loose around your shoulders, flies across your face, some of it entering your mouth. From above you, grey eyes are triumphant, looking down on you as though to ask whether or not that’s tough enough for you. You’d love to answer, but your head is throbbing and you can only let out a pathetic, confused noise that causes titters to spread throughout the room.

What the hell just happened?

You move to get up, but he’s quicker, slamming his foot down on your leg and holding you right where you are. For someone with such a short stature, he looks pretty damn tall from down here. Maybe this is the sight that the titans barely get to see before he slices through them. 

Everyone is watching, even if they’re not turning their hands. This is their entertainment today, and the fool has just made its move. The fool being you, of course. They’re all hungry to see how this will play out.

Your cheeks glow bright with embarrassment, but you are not going to waver. Not on the first day. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted someone who’d be a hardass, who’d strike fear in you and make this a day you’d never forget. Well, Lieutenant Levi is your wish come true.

“Please remove your foot, sir,” you muster as politely as you can, looking up at him icily.

He digs the heel of his shoe into your thigh to make a point, and maybe to see if you’ll cry out in pain. But you look him in his strange grey eyes and you only blink, a small smile returning to your face. Will he kick someone who’s already down?

The moment seems to last forever, and you briefly entertain the fantasy that time is freezing for him as much as it is for you.

And then it’s all broken - he takes his foot off and walks right by you, and the only words you’re spared after being humiliated are, “Tie your hair up, you look ridiculous.”

Thus goes your first meeting with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

____________________

Dinner that night is filled with chatter. It seems people have found their loyal companions pretty fast, and cliques are forming faster than a speeding bullet. 

Luckily, you don’t need to worry about making friends. Besides the fact that you’re charming and perfect (according to everyone else and definitely not just you), you joined the military with your best friend from childhood. Millie Shackel is every bit the Stohess lady you are, the Rose to your Maria, the jelly to your butter. It’s amazing how much two girls can bond over a shared hate for the lack of activity happening within their stuffy town.

You gnaw at the bread on your plate, squeezing your eyes shut in pain after a particularly hard bite makes the back of your head throb. Not for the first time, you place your hand gingerly on the back of your skull, confirming that there’s no blood pouring out.

“Shouldn’t have mouthed off,” Millie quips from across the table, looking at you amusedly.

“Thanks,” you mutter bitterly, abandoning the bread for now until the soreness goes away. “Didn’t think one stupid comment was going to make him go berserk on me.”

She laughs, confirming you sound every bit as stupid as you feel. “I don’t think that classifies as berserk. That was a superior putting you in your place.”

“Suck-up,” you accuse, eyes narrowed. She only rolls her eyes, and you bring the cup of water to your lips and begin simply guzzling it down when someone claps you on the back, making you choke.

You turn to glare, still coughing up water, at two guys behind you. The one who nearly killed you is tall, with hair the color of bananas, and he’s grinning with no regrets, the shameful bastard. The other one behind him looks apologetic, red-haired with pretty green eyes. He whacks his friend on the arm. “You idiot, you nearly sent her to the infirmary!”

“Oh, come on.” The tall guy slides next to you without permission, slinging an arm around you as though you’re the closest of chums. Back in Stohess, you’d have called for his execution or some shit. “Surely the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi can handle some water going down the wrong way.”

Millie does not look pleased at the intruder, and looks even more grouchy when his friend sits down next to her, albeit keeping a much more respectful distance. When you finally stop coughing violently, you shove the guy’s arm away.

“A-asshole, what the hell’s your problem?” 

“There’s no problem, kid.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “I just wanted to see the balls on you. Guess it was overexaggerated.”

“Obviously,” you snap, “I just talked back, I didn’t hop over the wall and kill a titan.”

“Regardless, good job with the way you handled it. The others are talking about you.”

Millie gives you a stern look. “Hear that? Now we’re the troublemakers.”

You shrug apologetically, and decide to take another crack at eating your bread. This time, it goes down easier, with only a light sting to remind you of the lieutenant’s cruelty. 

“I’m Stephen,” the redhead says with a shy smile, extending his hand. You shake it, then turn your gaze questioningly to the one next to you. He grins cockily, waiting for you to ask. You don’t.

“This is Ricky.” Stephen spoils his fun, sounding exasperated. 

“I assume you two are close.” Millie wrinkles her nose distastefully. You bite back a laugh - there’s that Stohess bitchiness that you love about her.

“We met this morning,” Ricky responds, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The two of you warm up to the boys soon enough. Ricky is rather friendly when he’s not trying to steal your food thinking you won’t notice, and Stephen is downright sweet, his emerald eyes brightening when you ask him where he’s from. He goes off on a ramble about his village which is somewhere smack dab in the middle of the land within Wall Rose. Apparently their local stew is the best there is. You privately disagree; nothing quite tastes like the stew they make in the Orvud District, least of all this bland loaf of bread in your hand.

Ricky, on the other hand, is from Shiganshina, which is apparently an outer city of Wall Maria (so the two boys really had just met that morning). 

“So, I’m guessing it’s the MP for you two?” Ricky says. Millie looks offended.

“That’s not right for you to assume!” She deflates a little. “But yes, it is.”

“Hey.” You shoot her a scowl. “It’s the MP for you. I don’t have any intention of hurrying back to precious Sina.”

Millie gazes at you with her we’ll talk about this later look like she has every time you’ve brought up that you have no intention of returning to fucking Stohess where nothing ever happens. Before she can say anything, Ricky ruffles your hair fondly. 

“Should’ve known you were made of tougher shit than that. So what, you like playing hero?”

You shrug. “No, I just have a sob story. Dead old Dad was a Scout, and then he was titan chowder.”

Stephen looks disturbed at how bluntly you say it, and even Ricky is a bit thrown off. You chuckle at their expressions, waving a hand nonchalantly. “It’s fine, it happened a while ago. I barely remember him. But you know, what better way to connect with your dead dad than to align yourself with the people who let him die, right?”

Ricky’s mouth hangs open as Millie snorts. “You can laugh, she’s making a joke. Get used to her sense of humor, it’s always this bad.”

“I resent that.”

“So you don’t care about getting into the top ten?” Stephen asks carefully - scoping out the competition, you realize.

“Couldn’t give less of a shit,” you answer coolly, “but Millie obviously does.”

“I’ll get into the top ten, it’s not about that.” Millie says confidently, shaking her head as though it’s ridiculous to even imagine that she wouldn’t. After all, you two were raised to be perfect. “The real goal is to be first.”

Ignoring the madly ambitious look in her eyes, you focus on Stephen. “So what is it for you? The Scouts?”

He winces bashfully. “I’m...undecided.”

You laugh out loud, a bit meanly. “What, undecided like you’re going to some top university in Mitras? This is the Training Corp, Stephen, you’re not gonna get to try out a bit of everything. Just choose whether or not you wanna be shipped off to a pointless death, and then you’ve made your decision.”

Stephen frowns, shaking his head. “If it was that simple, then what would be the point of choosing?”

Who in the holy hells asked for his philosophical wisdom, that’s what you want to know. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Ricky, who is chewing on your bread, abandoned after your taste buds just wouldn’t adjust without the butter you were used to. With his mouth full, he answers easily. “Scouts.”

You nod. At least he’s sure.

____________________

“That wasn’t right,” Millie says later, right as you’re about to lie down on a scratchy-looking bed.

“What?”

“What you said to him. He can take his time deciding if he wants to. And it’s just rich, coming from you.”

Your eye twitches in irritation. “You’re just pissed because I don’t wanna take on the most boring job in the world.”

“Grow up,” Millie hisses, venom laced in her voice. “Not everything’s about your entertainment.”

Turning around, you see your best friend with arms crossed, giving you a disapproving look that reminds you of your mother. How odd. What’s that old saying about people becoming what they most hate?

“You’re gonna lecture me now too? Hit me with some philosophy, maybe?” You raise your brow, daring her to say more. “Or do you wanna knock me over again? Maybe I’ll get a concussion this time.”

Millie scoffs, sitting down on the bed she’s claimed. “You know what, it was nice. Seeing someone put you in your place like that.” Her lips quirk under your hard gaze. “Maybe he’ll teach you a thing or two about taking things seriously. Give you some actual goals to achieve.”

The only thing Lieutenant Levi will teach you is to never get distracted by something like how beautiful someone’s eyes look ever again. Even now, you can still picture him, the way he stood in front of you, startled you, threw you off. The way his eyes were filled with more duality than you’d ever expected to see in a person.

Pretending like you didn’t just fantasize about his pretty grey irises, you roll your eyes and flop down on the bed next to her’s. “He’s not gonna teach me jack shit. He’s not even our trainer.”

Millie hums, whether it’s to you or to herself you don’t know, and when you look at her again she’s closed her eyes, clearly wanting to end what was a very long day. It’s not long before you join her.

“(F/N).”

“Yeah?”

“I miss home.”

You don’t, but you keep it to yourself.

The last thing you think of before you fall asleep is how cold the lieutenant had looked when he humiliated you, and your cheeks burn angrily.

____________________

Two weeks pass by in a blur. Once training starts, there’s not much time to think about something like goals, because everyone’s goal is simply living until dinner each night. Avoid getting yelled at, attend classes, study hard, and for the love of all things holy don’t fall on your face when you’re balancing in the practice ODM gear. 

It’s a rush, and you actually find yourself enjoying it. The food still tastes stale and the bed is still too hard to be comfortable, but there’s an easy routine that’s so much more than sit still and look pretty. While you’ve never been a fan of routine, this is different. There’s a purpose to this, even if everyone has different things they’re working towards. Whether they’re trying their best to show what they’re made of and get into the top ten like Millie, or pushing themselves because they get starry-eyed at the thought of saving humanity like Rashad, or simply staying out of trouble to avoid getting meal privileges taken away like Clara, everyone is working towards something, and it’s thrilling to be in the midst of it, to be a part of something meaningful.

You and Ricky are fast friends - he’s surprisingly not too insufferable and he shares your enthusiasm for not taking things so seriously. He also seems like he’s looking for a partner in crime, someone to partake in the oh-so delightful task of slacking off with. Millie is throwing herself into perfecting everything, and Stephen, while not as crazy as she is, is more nervous about losing respectability in front of their trainers and comrades. So the two of you naturally gravitate towards each other, because jeez, at least a few people here need to remember that life still exists outside of all of the training and military drama. 

Today is the first time they’re letting you practice hand-to-hand combat, and while that’s obviously ridiculous since you’re training to fight titans (or just bully people, if you’re joining the MP, but Millie didn’t appreciate you voicing that out loud), it’s also a chance for you to show off a natural talent. 

You’re flexible. And fairly fast too.

Sure, you’re no fighter, but back home you were put into dancing lessons since you were a wee young thing, so you have a much higher tolerance than most of these chumps. You can take a few hard punches here and there, and you’re fluid with your movements, so you’re giving as good as you get. Even combat is a dance in a certain way, it has all the same elements at any rate. Everything comes down to the placement of the feet, and every other body is an accessory that has to be utilized perfectly to do any damage. 

Unfortunately, Ricky’s fought, like actually fought - fucking peasants from Maria and their street fights - and so as much as you put up a damn good fight, he eventually gets you in a hold from behind. You squirm in his grasp as he laughs, digging his fingers in your side. You try to protest, but it’s hard when he’s tickling you so hard.

“H-hey, hey!” Your giggling only gets two octaves louder when Ricky doesn’t let up. “Stop!” Ricky’s laugh mixes in with yours, until he’s lifting you off the ground. Your breathing becomes painful as you struggle against his grip, clawing at his hands. “Ricky! Let go!”

Finally, he decides to show mercy, dropping you. He regrets it pretty soon, though, because then you’re on him quickly, throwing a hard punch against his shoulder. He groans, letting out a pained, “What the hell, (F/N)?” but you’re not done. You grab the collar of his uniform, and tug it forward briefly to give yourself some momentum to shove him back as hard as you can.

Ricky stumbles on his feet, catching himself before he falls at the last second. There’s a determined expression in his eyes, not quite competitive but suddenly eager to show off.

“So, think your dainty dancing is gonna give you the advantage here?” he challenges, balling his fists in front of his chest. You do the same. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but that’s not how that works.”

“Beat me, then. Properly.” You smirk, planting your feet firmly. Let him throw the first punch, you decide. “I have to be on the ground for you to win.”

Ricky’s clever too, knowing you intend to use his size against him. He lowers his arms, extending them as though he’s going to let you take a free shot. Yeah, you’re not that stupid. You stay right where you are, raising an unimpressed brow. The two of you stare each other down, trying your best not to break into smiles. 

“Hit me.”

“Hard pass.”

“Because you know your punch will be too weak?”

“How’s your shoulder, Ricky? Should be feeling fine, since my punch was so weak.”

He barks out a laugh, rolling his shoulder back experimentally. “Like getting hit by a feather.”

Okay, trash talk isn’t part of the combat training that the trainer, Instructor Grumman, has assigned. But it’s still fun, and it’s about a thousand times more preferable than actually fighting. Fighting is painful and pointless. Trash talk is entertaining and doable. 

Still, you hunch your shoulders. If Ricky really won’t move, you’ll come at him with full force. Digging your heel into the ground, you give yourself a boost and run towards him with a burst of speed. His eyes widen, and his first instinct is to hold out his hands to keep you at bay. But with the close proximity and his lanky figure, it won’t be enough. You’ll have him on his back within seconds if you ram into him in one, two -

You don’t make it.

You don’t make it because you’re suddenly flung into the air. You let out a frantic shriek and bring your arms up to shield your face. The ground approaches with dizzying speed and you hit it with a sickening thud. Your hands are suddenly covered in scratches and you open your mouth to furiously ask Ricky what the fuck he was thinking and how did he even do that and did he have to throw you so high -

But when you look up, it’s cold grey eyes that meet you.

Fuck.

The glare that was supposed to be for Ricky is now aimed at him, unadulterated hate coursing through your veins. This is the first time you’ve seen him since that day. Just what in the actual fuck is his problem, and just what had you done to deserve being thrown over his shoulder and up into the sky like a fucking ragdoll? You hadn’t mouthed off this time. Hell, you didn’t even know he was there, so just what the fuck was he punishing you for?

“People who don’t take their training seriously usually end up looking up like this,” he hisses. His glare matches yours, which is ridiculous, because he’s the one who knocked you down. Why is he pissed off? “‘Course, they’re usually looking up at a titan, but we don’t have any of those on hand for me to demonstrate.”

Yeah, he’s far from a titan. Fucking shrimp.

“I was taking my training very seriously, sir,” you say with gritted teeth. “In fact, I would have defeated my opponent had you not stepped in and shot me up in the air.” Your hands would also have significantly fewer bruises. 

He snorts, actually snorts, like you’ve just told a hilarious joke. “A real opponent isn’t going to let you run that mouth of yours before they come at you. You’d be dead in two fucking seconds.”

People are looking now. Everyone remembers that first day, and they all look as though their favorite stage actors have come to town to perform a show. They’re all waiting to see just what the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi will do now. A circus trick, perhaps? They don’t know what you’re made of - no one is going to see you crack. And definitely not because of this insufferable man.

“You don’t know that, sir.” You say it with a poisonous smile, wanting him to know that it’s not meant to be respectful. “I might just make it. Maybe I’ll even make it longer than you.”

There are hushed gasps all around you, but the lieutenant pays them no mind. He looks amused, as if you’re just a stupid little girl, an arrogant brat who somehow thinks she’s somehow stronger than him. You’re not an idiot, you know that he’s an excellent soldier who will probably make captain soon, and you’re a lowly cadet who doesn’t even know the basics yet. But once you’re trained up, once you have experience, you think you could take him on, and you could possibly win.

Lieutenant Levi leans down, crouching on his legs before leaning in. He grabs your shoulder harshly, and leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be waiting, (L/N).”

You almost feel respected until he adds, “Waiting to see the day that fucking smile gets wiped off your face.”

With that, he stands up and turns. Turns to walk away. Turns as though you’re not still on the ground. Turns as though your comrades aren’t snickering around you, convinced that he just put you in your place a second time. Turns as though he didn’t just single you out for no damn reason - who even fucking asked him to watch? Who asked him to interfere in your business? Why didn’t anyone else demand his attention? You weren’t the only one goofing off. Hell, there were some people who were actually just lazing around! Where was their punishment?

Furiously, you speak before your brain can catch up.

“Why don’t you fight me, Lieutenant?” you say loudly as you get to your feet.

He stops.

Ricky, who is safely standing a few feet away now, gives you a wide-eyed look, silently asking if you’re brain damaged. But you pay him no mind, your eyes focused on the back of Lieutenant Levi’s head, probably burning a hole in him with your gaze by now. Immediately, the crowd changes sides again, hushed oohs spreading around. It’s not enthusiastic, no one actually believes you’ll triumph, but they are enthusiastic that you have the balls to try.

He turns, giving you the driest expression you’ve ever seen, and you half expect to be dismissed. To be told that you’re too weak to even think about fighting him.

Instead, his stance changes, his fists are raised, and he’s accepted your challenge.

You know you can’t win. That’s not the point. The point is to hold out. For a whole minute, at least. Half a minute. Was twenty seconds too generous?

There’s a small part of you that regrets mouthing off this time.

Lieutenant Levi doesn’t have to waste any time staring you down. He has no need to debate in his head about who should throw the first punch, and nor does he grant you the courtesy of devising a strategy in your head first. In half a second, he’s approaching you with dizzying speed, fist reeled back, about to knock you over for the second time today.

But you’re sick and tired of these fast maneuvers. 

You duck down just as he closes the gap between you, and you go for his legs. He grunts in surprise as you make contact, clutching tightly. It may look pathetic. Your arms are wrapped around his thighs, which you basically just dived into. Your face is squished against his hip. Your feet have left the ground, as you’ve thrown your entire body at him. At this moment, you look absolutely ridiculous.

But it’s worth it.

The lieutenant loses his balance as his feet slip from under him. You can feel him falling down, down, down, with a gasp that is just fucking music to your ears. This is turning out better than you’ve ever hoped for. You’ve proved everyone wrong, even yourself. He’s going to hit the floor, and you’re going to win. You’ll win.

Or at least, you would have.

You’re both hurtling through the air for one glorious moment. Then, recovering from his shock in an instant, Lieutenant Levi spins the two of you in midair, and despite all your efforts and quick calculations, it’s your back that hits the floor again with a loud crack, air knocked clean out of your lungs. You gasp for breath. His knees are digging into your neck, you’re going to choke -

He takes no time to recover. He’s up and on his feet in a second, brushing the nonexistent dirt off his pants, and you’re left panting with your hand on your throat, trying to recover what little dignity you have left as laughter erupts around you. Dizziness and confusion overwhelms you, as does something else. Just a few minutes ago, you’d been looking at him hatefully. Well, you from five minutes ago had no idea what hate was. You could kill him right now, this arrogant, pompous, cruel jerk. 

How dare he look so unperturbed? Like this is just a normal weekday for him?

A hand yanks you up by your hair, nails digging in your scalp painfully. You’re brought to your knees with a heaving gasp. He tugs your head up until you’re looking at him properly, and he has the nerve to smirk. It’s slight - perhaps he knows a full blown smile would look creepy on him - but it’s there, mocking you.

When he speaks, it’s just a little louder than a murmur. “I thought I told you to tie your hair up.”

Then he releases you, and your buckle over in pain. The position literally has you bowing down to him. White hot anger seeps through you. Consumes you. When he starts walking away, his every step thunders in your head, echoing a million times. He had no right. 

No right at all.

It seems like Millie’s wish has come true. You have a goal now. A goal that Lieutenant Levi has so graciously given you.

You’ve decided. No matter what happens, you’re going to get revenge on Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. He’s going to fucking pay.

____________________

You’re pacing out in the field later that day, muttering under your breath, the events from earlier replaying in your head on loop. Millie’s decided to give up on getting you to come study with her, and she’s blatantly refused to participate in your little quest for revenge, citing it as “pointless and foolhardy.” Well, this whole thing is pointless and foolhardy. The Training Corp is just a way to produce more dead bodies every year. But Millie didn’t agree with your line of logic and has left you to brood on your own.

Realistically, what are your options? It’s not an easy task to take on. Humiliating a man who is now so respected and admired will be difficult when his ego soars sky high. Something heavy will be needed to bring it down. Now you have no intention of ruining him for life, nothing major or extremely dangerous. If you did have such an intent, it would’ve been rather simple, just a letter back home to your mother to spread the word of what humanity’s hero was really like. Not that she’s inclined to listen to your demands nowadays, but it’s a doable plan that would work one way or another. But you want to embarrass Lieutenant Levi the exact same way he embarrassed you. You want to knock him flat on his back, while everyone watches, and you want to stand triumphantly as he kneels down to you.

Someone listening to your thoughts right about now would think you were having a vivid sexual fantasy. You groan, slumping down against the bark of a tree. It’s going to be dark soon. You have a curfew that you’re inclined to obey. But you simply can’t go back without thinking of a plan. He deserves it. He deserves to be utterly humiliated. Punishing you is one thing. Beating you in a fight is only natural. 

But holding you up by your hair like you’re one of the fucking spoils of war only to have you kneel to him - that’s sick. He’s sick, and probably perverted. You wonder if he’s always been like that, or if the glory has gone to his head. And you wonder why he’s chosen you to play this game with. Because of a smile and some cheek? That’s no excuse. 

Maybe you’re just the prettiest one here, and he has a crush.

Even the cocky thought can’t distract you enough from your frustration. You can’t possibly beat him. There’s a reason he’s getting so much attention. It’s because he can fight like no other, and it’s all natural talent too. Frankly, you call bullshit, no one is just that good without any practice, but whatever, not the point right now. Who could possibly make you capable enough to beat the lieutenant in a fight? Who could possibly know all his weaknesses? 

Probably only him.

Your eyes widen.

____________________

The sun shines brightly the next day. You feel the warm breeze from the open windows kissing your cheek as you run through the base. Most people passing by pay you no mind, although a few give you questioning looks. But they don’t say anything, probably figuring you’re just a lost newbie who’s inevitably going to get yelled at when you show up late for class. But they’re mistaken, you’re not lost at all. You’re running with purpose. And well, you might be late for class, but it’ll be fine, you know Stephen takes detailed notes that he’s willing to share, and even if he feels like being mean, this is much more important.

Originally, the plan was to go all the way to his office, the path pieced together from directions you’d gotten from Instructor Grumman who believed you were going to apologize (for what?). Hopefully, he won’t actually double check if you went through with it, because you have no intention of apologizing for a single damn thing. Your aim is far more sinister than that. Today is the first step of a plan that will take you a long while, but it’ll pay off eventually. You’re going to achieve your goal. 

That is, if he agrees.

The universe is on your side, because you don’t even need to go all the way to his office. There he is, in the flesh, talking to a blonde man you recognize as Captain Erwin Smith and a woman who you haven’t seen before. Maybe if he hadn’t been so callous yesterday, you’d have waited until he was away from his comrades before approaching him. It’s too late to care about appearances now.

You step up to the three of them and salute, clearing your throat.

He looks at you, and his eyes harden when he sees a smile plastered on your face yet again. 

“Can we help you?” Captain Erwin says gently, but there’s just the slightest edge in his tone. Clearly one is not supposed to just approach this dream team. Your bad.

You open your mouth to answer him, but Lieutenant Levi beats you to it, looking bored as he does. “She’s lost, Erwin. Classes are on the other side of the base,” he says dismissively, waving a hand like he’s swatting away a fly.

“I am not lost. Sir.” Your spine is still straightened and your fist is still balled against your heart. You’re not sacrificing it just yet, but you’re certainly sacrificing your pride here. “I have a request for you. After you pointed out my obvious flaws yesterday, I realized that if I don’t get help, I’m going to fall seriously behind.”

Captain Erwin shoots him an exasperated look, already having figured that his best friend (or whatever they are to each other) must have done something to you. Meanwhile, the woman cackles, nudging the lieutenant’s shoulder. 

“She’s being proactive! You appreciate that, don’t you, Levi?”

He doesn’t answer. His attention is now exclusively on you - you nearly feel special. 

“So what do you need from me, Cadet?” You ignore the way your stomach flip-flops violently from the way he stares at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a light smirk. Something in him clearly enjoys the idea of you needing him for something. Something else to lord over your head, something else for him to be cocky about. “You want me to find someone to give you private lessons?”

“Close,” you say, mustering the brightest and happiest fucking expression you can, “I’d like you to give me private lessons. I want you to train me.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flash upwards. 

Your hair is neatly tied up in a tight bun.

Y’all have no idea how weird it is to write “Lieutenant Levi.” I loathe it.

Also, this is my first time writing in second person. Lots of firsts here, folks.

Please review, your comments are my source of life.

[tenkoscumslut]

Hawks x reader (angst)

(credit to _yorixxxx on tiktok they inspired this)

Your mind was in its own universe, walking through a rich meadow, the smell of blue gold filling up your senses, it was almost time to go home, almost.  You almost leapt out of your chair when the clock hit 5, you little fantasy vanished, forgotten, like you.  

You couldn’t help but smile as you walked home, it was months after the incident, months.  Kiego had promised to never do it again, promised and promised and promised, but all of them were lies, though you were to blind to see it.  The familiar streets were your comfort area, you loved your life, you loved your boyfriend, his affection, your apartment, your job, everything.

As you flirted with the keys, trying to find the right one, you managed to find it.  It opened up his apartment, tonight was date night, he always did the sweetest things, he would take you out on late night flights, kiss your forehead and apologize for that one night.  His words were meaningless, but they filled you with happiness.

Before you were drowning, you head was submerged underwater and you could swim to the surface.  You were exhausted, even though it was right there, it was so close, it was in your grasp, you could never reach it.  Thats when Hawks came, he made you go head over heels for him, he was your savior, he was the one who saved you.  He picked you up, letting you take deep breaths of the fresh air, and you loved it.  You were addicted to it.

So when you opened the door, and saw another pair of shoes, you didn’t mind, you didn’t even think about any bad outcomes of this.  You quietly closed the door and set your shoes next to his, assuming he had a coworker over.  You walked up the steps into the living room, and there was Hawks with his “coworker”.

You couldn’t move, they were to loud to notice you, her loud moans, his grunts of pleasure, you could barely believe what you saw.  No, Hawks would never cheat on you, you knew Hawks, or did you.  You knew the hero, the man who saved others, the man who never broke someones heart.  But did you really know Kiego, did you know how he broke hearts, how he was a lying cheating bastard who was so toxic he couldn’t recognize your feelings.

“Hawks?”, you whimpered softly, not even knowing how to react to the lewd scene in front of you.  They both stopped, the girl, panting, a huge blush on her face turned to Hawks, “Hawks, who’s this?”, she asked trying to catch her breath.  Kiego stuttered, “J-just an old friend babe, Y/N, can you leave?’, he asked with...what was it? Irritation? Annoyance? Anger?.  

“Old friend?”, you repeated, “Were dating Hawks!”, you exclaimed, tears beginning to form, the girl clambered off of him, quickly putting on her clothes, “What the fuck do they mean Kiego?! You said you weren’t with anyone!”, she shouted.  “Y/N is lying, I don’t know them!”, he shouted, pulling up his boxers.

“You know what?! Get out! Both of you!”, you shouted over them, Kiego looked at you, shock in his eyes, the girl walked past you, she looked just as broken as you, “I’m sorry”, she whispered and quickly left the scene.  You stared at the ground, your fists were placed at your sides, Kiego walked up to you.  That voice, it made you fill up with joy, but know it felt so wrong to hear him.  “Babybird, listen to me, she didn’t mean anything”, he said.  Empty.  His words were fucking empty.

You wanted to screech, kill him, you wanted to wreck him, make him feel what you were going through.  “I already said get out Kiego” you managed to say, not bothering to speak in hopes of your voice not cracking up.  You looked up at him, those eyes, so beautiful, so ethereal.  You always thought he would only look at you like that, with so much love and passion, but behind it was emptiness.  He fucking used you.

To him you were a doll to be played with, a fucking sex toy.  You gritted your teeth when he didn’t move, instead tried to embrasse you in a hug, “Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted, the tears finally spilling out while you kicked him, punched him, scratched him.  He didn’t let go, he couldn’t, Kiego was to selfish, he wanted you, he wanted a side chick, he wanted to fuck anyone he could but he couldn’t have you leave his side.

You were his other half, his soulmate, he truly loved you, yet he continued to hurt you, over and over and over and over.  It hurt him, sometimes he wouldn’t realize he was kissing someone else, he would try and imagine they were you, that it was your soft lips caressing his own.  That is was your walls clamping down on him, and it was your moans every time he hit their sweet spot.  Seeing you, without that smile, without that look like he was your everything made him break.

He fucking hurt you.  He did that.  “Get out Kiego!”, that was the last shout, he let go, knowing you couldn’t be with him anymore, his heart was strangled as he slowly walked over to the entrance, he’d let you stay at his apartment until you could leave.  He would give you the space he needed.  With one last look of sorrow, he left.

~~~

As the months went by, you had found a new job, away from Kiego, a knew boyfriend, a home, a new life.  It was perfect, Dabi was perfect, all that time thinking Kiego had saved you, all those times you felt like he was your savior was lies.  He blinded you, choked you, drugged you into thinking you were happy, but Dabi was your real savior.  He opened your eyes, showed you the world, real affection and loyalty, trust, everything you could possibly imagine.

Though Dabi did have his flaws, like almost burning the kitchen down when his ramen didn’t turn out perfect, he was amazing, and truly loved you.  Dabi would never go behind your back, and you would never go behind his. Ever.  

As for Kiego, he was a wreck, bringing home girls almost everyday.  They weren’t the same, they never were, you were truly one of a kind.  He was sobbing, he was forgetting your touch, your lips, you voice, it was all fading away.  He was desperately trying to salvage what was left of you, he had pictures of you in his bedroom, he cooked your favorite foods, he only dated people who looked like you but it was never enough.

Every night, their moans never riled him up, their lips wrapped around him never was the same, they never tasted as good as you, their kissed weren’t as sweet or filled with love.  Their eyes never held the same fire as yours, never the same passion.  Your sweet smell was slowly fading away to, one of the only things he had left.  

he had even bought the same perfume you would wear just to scent things and try to keep it in pristine condition.  As for the girl he was dating behind your back, seeing her walk into his office everyday made him gag, she couldn’t even compete against you.  

After months of not being able to hear your voice, enough was enough, he opened up your contact, there were tons of messages from you, left on read from when he was cheating on you and he didn’t bother to reply.  His fingers manuevered over the keyboard.

He didn’t know how to start this off, would he say sorry? Hi? How are you?, he then just settled on Hey, nothing really complex or to formal.  His heart was beating faster than ever, he set himself down at his counter, his wings flapping lightly at the prospect of you replying.

You were making dinner, just some rice and fish since you didn’t feel like making something to extravagant.  Your phone dinged next to Dabi who was watching a show, he lifted up your phone, narrowing his eyes at the unknown number.

He stood up and walked over to you, unlocking your phone to look at the message, “Hey, doll, who’s this?”, he asked, staring at the conversation before you found out Hawks was a cheating bastard.  You had deleted his contact, thinking you also blocked him.  You grabbed your phone and looked at the message, trying to remember who it was.  “i do-”, you cut yourself off when you saw the previous text messages.

“It’s my ex, you don’t need to worry about him”, you said, turning your phone off and kissing Dabi softly.  He hummed happily, his hands snacking around your waist and massaging your inner thighs.  You turned off the stove and fully turned around to kiss him, things quickly escalated, your bra was off and your panties were thrown somewhere.

Dabi was on his knees, your legs on his shoulders while he devoured you, you tugged at the roots of his hair, whining and moaning for him, crying out with he hit the perfect place.  Your orgasm was quickly building up, and then your phone rang.  Dabi pulled away from your lower lips, a scowl on his face while he glared at your phone for ruining the mood.

You picked it up, scowling when you saw it was Hawks, you did not want to talk to him, “Who is it?”, Dabi asked, tracing circles into your thighs, “my ex”, you grumbled, your thumb was about to press decline but Dabi stopped you,  “Answer it babe”, he said, you whined softly, “Why?”.  He smirked, “Do it baby, for daddy~”, he said, you pouted and answered the phone and brought it up to your ear.

Hawks wings were flapping widley when you picked up, his heart was racing, he wanted so savor your voice, memorise it, imprint it in his brain so when he manages to win you back its like you never broke up.  Like he never cheated.  Like he really was your savior.

Dabi leaned back down, and started to kiss your lower lips, his tongue traveling over your clit.  You held back a moan and managed to greet your ex, “Hello Kiego”, you said, you were greeted with a happy Hello.  Hearing his voice made sadness seep into your heart, but you were through with him, you were done, you had Dabi.  

“Why are you calling me”, you asked, your hand slithering down to pull at Dabis hair, you knew being this close to your orgasm, plus the thrill of being on the phone with Hawks was only going to end in something bad.  Dabis skilled tongue pushed into your sopping wet hole.  Your hand quickly covered your mouth, staffing another moan.

“I-I guess I just missed you...”, Hawks mumbled from the other end, “I was a fucking dick to you, I cheated on you twice and thats not right”.  Your orgasm was quickly building up again, Dabi removed his tongue and easily pushed in 2 digits, his mouth started working on your clit.  Your thighs clamped down on his head, trying to make this oh so more pleasurable.

“I was wondering you know...if we could start talking again?”, he asked, Dabi then hit the special spot he knew by memory, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.  A huge blush adorned to your face, “U-Um a-are you busy right now? C-cuz I can t-talk later?”, he suggested.  “N-no, I want to finish this conversation”, you mumbled, “I just ran into the corner of my dresser”, you lied.  Dabi was pinching at your thigh, you knew he didn’t want you to hang up.

Hawks was leaning back into the chair, a generous amount of lube coated his hand, he gripped at the base of his dick, squeezing softly, trying to replicate your walls.  He bit his lip, god just you alone had him painfully hard, and the moan that came out of the other end of the phone was the cherry on top.  His thumb ran over his sensitive head, over his sensitive slit, and rubbed back and forth.  At this rate Hawks could cum any second.

“Could we maybe meet up at the building I use to fly us to?”, he asked.  You bit your lip, another moan rising up, your release was so fucking close, you could feel it.  Your hand gripped at his wrist, not wanting him to pull away and take your sweet release with it.  “S-sure”, you were in a daze, Dabis wrist snapped forward, roughly hitting your sweet spot.  Your eyes rolled back, your body spasming and your walls fluttering around his digits.  Your sweet juices leaked out of your spasming hole.  Dabi removed his fingers and quickly started to lap at the juices.

You thought you hung up, your thumb missed and instead you put him on speaker, you started to moan and cry out, it was turning into to much, “Y/N..?”, you heard hawks through the speaker. “FUCK!”, you shouted, quickly hanging up before you could reply.  Dabi was laughing, and your face was flared with embarrassment.  He got up from his kneeling position and helped you off the counter.

Your knees were wobbly underneath you, Dabi carried you to the bed and finished what he started.

The mess on Hawks chest, there were no words to describe it.  He had cummed harder than he has ever cummed before, the thick white liquid shot out in thick salty white ropes.  His post orgasm soon kicked in, a hollow feeling burned in his chest.  He wished it was you instead of them, he wished he payed attention to you.

He wished he brought you around to parties since he knew how much you loved to dance, he wished he brought you flowers, and held your hand, he should’ve given you all his hours when he had the chance.  But know your dancing, but your dancing with another man.

And although it hurts, he’d be the first to say he was wrong, but he hoes he buys you flowers, and holds your hand, take you to every party because he remembers how much you love to dance.

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Frostbite and Burn scars  Chater 3) Godless

"So we're in Khaenr'iah..." 

"Yes" 

"And it's on a completely plane of existence..." 

"Not completely different, just on the border between life and death but yes go on"

"And there's just a portal to this place in Musk Reef?" 

"Congratulations you've caught yourself up" Kaeya said sarcastically, standing up. 

Diluc rubbed his temple and wondered just why the hell he decided to jump into a swirling blue light with a no good spy. But it was too late for second thoughts, Kaeya said that the portal only opens every moon cycle so he'd be stuck here for a while. 

"Why exactly does the portal need a moon cycle specifically?" Diluc asked, irritated. 

"Well it's a very old relic" Kaeya had said "It's magic is weakening. It used to be a continuous portal back before I was born, but in recent years it's power has slowed down and it requires time to recharge. Plus do you know how taxing it is to travel in between different dimensions? It requires a significant amount of magic, it's amazing how it still works." 

Diuc adjusted his gloves again, it was an odd habit of his to do it whenever he was anxious. Now, in another nation, in another world, he found himself doing it quite a lot. Perhaps it felt familiar, the tug almost felt like holding someone's hand, though he'd be surprised if holding hands felt different. He hadn't held anyone's in years. 

"Well, let's go now" Kaeya said, walking in the direction of the city. 

"Why would they recognize you?" Diluc asked. He had met Kaeya when he was five, Kaeya was seven. He can't have lived for more than a few months in Mondtadt before father found him. He'd know, Kaeya kept crying and mumbling for his father in his sleep. It's probably been years since he had last been seen around here. And who's to say time didn't work different here? 

"Why would they forget their prince?" 

Diluc's head snapped to see a man coming from deeper into the forest. He wore mostly black with blues and golds decorating him, blonde hair hung half down and obscured an odd mask that only covered his right eye that was glowing yellow. A long cape flowed behind him as he walked, and he bowed respectfully before Kaeya and him. No, more to Kaeya. 

"I'm sorry, prince?" Diluc inquired, turning to look at Kaeya for an answer. 

"With all due respect, Prince Kaeya, you've never told this man who you were?" 

Kaeya shrugged "Never had a reason to" he said nonchalantly "If you'd like, you may introduce me properly to my dear associate here. You are a royal advisor and herald after all, Dainsleif" 

The man, Dainsleif stood up "May I introduce to you Lord Kaeya Alberich, heir to the throne of Kaenr'iah, son of the the Crescent Moon dynasty, and Kaenri'ah's savior" he said. He didn't seem to be lying and the way Kaeya held himself right now, seemed to suggest that it was the truth. Kaeya wasn't some bastard, he was a fucking prince. 

"Hmm, never gets old" Kaeya mused. "Diluc, this is Dainsleif. He's a trusted friend of house Alberich and one of my father's closest and youngest advisors. Speaking of dear old dad, I heard the young man has finally kicked the bucket?" 

Dainsleif nodded "Indeed. I arranged for you to be brought back here for his funeral and your eventual coronation as king" 

Dilcu saw Kaeya's fists clench, seemingly not fond of the idea of being king. He couldn't argue with that, being a carefree prince seemed easier than a king with the fate of an entire kingdom on his shoulders. 

"I believe you said your companions name was Diluc?" 

"Hmm? Oh yes, this is Diluc, he's a member of the Fatui, an organization that has helped me with my goal quite a bit" 

Dainsleif looked at Diluc suspiciously,  Diluc pretended not to notice and tried to prevent himself from maiming Kaeya for using the Fatui of all originations for cover. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a guest..."

"That's the spirit!" Kaeya cheered.

"There's a carriage awaiting us, just this way, Prince Kaeya, brother Diluc" 

Diluc still couldn't quite wrap his head around the whole "Prince Kaeya" thing. Prince? This bastard? Well, bastard doesn't really suit him anymore. 

"I see you're still a bit confused about all of this, Diluc?" Kaeya asked. 

Dainsleif had ushered them into a carriage and rode on horseback behind them, the carriage itself was nicer than anything Diluc's ever been in. Yes he was wealthy and had seen his fare share of luxuries, but this carriage was a lot nicer than the ones Dilucs been in, and this was just a fraction of Kaeya's fortune as a prince. 

"You could say that..."

"Hmm yes, I'm well aware that Mondstadt and most of the other nations don't have set rulers, rather most are overseen by an organization or a council" 

"And why is Kaenri'ah not? The monarchy system never worked for the other nations" 

Kaeya's eye turn bitter and dark for a moment, peering out of the window "Kaenri'ah  doesn't have a god to guide them like the other nations do. So, they turn to royalty to be their gods, to worship and grovel at their feet, to rule them with the flaws of man. It's rater pitiful" 

Dilcu had never really thought of it that way. There was always someone with power over the nation, but not in charge as a whole. That was because the respective archon of the nation was seen as the true ruler. He knew that some archons even lived amongst their people like royalty, Rex Lapis had for a time he had heard. 

"Oh..." 

Humans ruling humans, what a mistake. No wonder Kaenri'ah was falling apart. They were godless, abandoned, they refused the gods. They made their own gods and ignored the warnings of the archons. An entire nation, suffering from pride. No wonder Kaeya's symbol was the peacock, all flare, too proud to pay any attention, to bow down to anyone. Fitting for a godless country

There seemed to be peacock motifs everywhere in Khaenri'ah. Flagpoles flew the emblem of a peacock, citizens were dressed in rich blues and greens, with gold adorning those who looked to be part of a wealthier caste. The godless city, suffering from their hubris, proudly flying flags with a peacock of all things on them. What fools. Dilcu almost wanted to laugh at the irony. 

"Diluc" 

Red eyes met a single lilac one "Be careful. The walls have ears here in Kaenri'ah. Be careful of what you say" 

Diluc scoffed "Are you concerned about me?" 

Kaeya shrugged "If you don't want them to find out. And frankly, I'd like it if I didn't have to say I didn't know you. The people here are going to maim you if they find out you're this... defender of Mondstadt" 

Kaeya had a point, for once. Mondstadt was supposed to be Kaenri'ah's enemy. Diluc would be dead if he was found out. He didn't really have a choice. He was stuck here until the gateway opened again and he could return home. Home... to that empty mansion, to the quiet tavern, with no one but servants and workers surrounding him. Mondtadt's most eligible bachelor, the wealthy young prodigy, the rich and famous Master Diluc! What a joke. Empty lies, all of them. 

They rode on in silence for a while, Kaeya absentmindedly looking out the window while Diluc sat and looked down at his feet.

"We're here" Kaeya said. The door to the carriage opened, the two men stepped out, and Diluc's breath hitched at the site of the giant palace. Architecture unlike any he's ever seen, the colossal white and grey palace almost seemed to scrape the heavens. 

"Welcome to Babylon, palace of the godless"

A colossal palace, built so high it scraped the heavens. A vain attempt to reach the gods. How fitting, Kaenri'ah really was the city of peacocks, the city of fools and bastard, city of the godless. 

[kob131]

https://sssn-neptune-vasilias.tumblr.com/post/621976494005207040/are-you-in-the-mood-to-go-off-on-why-weiss-is-bad

Weiss was bad because she was just blatantly rude, disrespectful, obnoxious and arrogant during the early seasons. While, yes, her feelings were valid with everything pertaining to Jaune- being rude to someone like Jaune was back during season one and two is totally justified- how she was acting towards Ruby and Yang and Blake was just abhorrent. I get that some characters are just abrasive and catty and stuff- and some people like that about characters and that’s totally okay!- but Weiss landed up higher on my list of “annoying characters” than Draco Malfoy, and was only one step below Katsuki Bakugo, so like... she pissed me the fuck off. There was literally nothing redeeming about her until like, 1.10 when we find out she can actually not be a total bitch for longer than 2 seconds and had an actual conversation with Ruby.

So you have no concept of a flawed protagonist, especially considering other examples you give.

Weiss is bad because victim complex was also so annoying to watch. “I’m a victim” she shouts at Blake, wiping her tears with her million dollar handkerchief. “My daddy took his anger out on me when the White Fang hurt his multi-billion dollar empire,” she says as she tries to justify her abject racism against Faunus, as if that same empire hadn’t orphaned people and branded others as property. She was infuriating during season 1, and then at the end of the Stray arc, she doesn’t even apologize to Blake for the racism! She doesn’t apologize to Blake for the dirty names she was calling Sun or the racist things she was saying about the White Fang Faunus or for scaring Blake and making her so uncomfortable she accidentally outed herself and then ran away! Instead she forces Blake to apologize and they hug it out. What the hot fuck was that about?

You know, this very point illustrates why I loathe this man from the depths of my heart

He ignores the fact that being rich does NOT make parental abuse any better and then tries to blame Weiss, someone who has NO say in the company’s decisions and is even shown to NOT LIKE THEM, for the SDC’s actions. He also blames Weiss for Blake’s own insecurities even though the show made it clear she didn’t want ANYONE, not just Weiss, to know that shit. And then forgets that Blake apologized WITHOUT PROMPTING before WEISS cut her off to show she didn’t care.

He ignores people’s pain, blames them for the actions of others, ignores context and just makes shit up- all to justify his own feelings instead of being an adult and learning to respect the truth. You’re no adult, you’re a child stuck in a man’s body.

Weiss is bad because the narrative just pretends that she got over her racism after season 1 and just... doesn’t address the fact that she was racist and most certainly still harbors racist beliefs. She didn’t talk to Blake about her experiences as a Faunus or being in the White Fang, she didn’t take a Faunus history class, she didn’t attend any rallies, she didn’t talk to friends like Neon or Velvet or Sun about their experiences, she didn’t do any work to move past her racism. But the narrative pretends she did. You don’t just become not racist because you just decided to. Shaking off one’s racism, homophobia, sexism, transphobia, classism, ableism, xenophobia, etc. is a constant journey with no real end point. Just a constant attempt at being better. You don’t grow up in a homophobic society and then one day decide “ah, I’ve finally shaken off all my cultural biases! I am no longer homophobic!” It just doesn’t work that way. And if it did, it definitely wouldn’t happen in twelve hours looking for a friend you threatened to call the police on.

Except does it really? Weiss is still uncomfortable around Sun and doesn’t help a Fanaus again until Velvet when she runs in to protect her at what she assumed was the cost of her life. It sounds more like she became comfortable with Blake.

Also source for that ‘threaten to call the police’ thing. No wait, I’ll do it for you!

Weiss: "Oh! You know what might be able to help? The police!"

Ruby: (crossing her arms in irritation) "Ugh, Weiss..."

Weiss: "It was just an idea!"

Ruby: (walking down the sidewalk) "Yeah, a bad one."

Yang: (following behind Ruby) "Weiss, I think we should hear her side of the story before we jump to any conclusions."

Weiss: (following behind Yang) "I think that when we hear it, you'll all realize I was right!" 

Gee, sounds more like a bad joke.

Weiss is bad because she’s such a fucking white-savior that my friends call her WSS in our group chat; Weiss Savior Schnee.

SSSN, I've literally seen you use race as an insult

“What’s that supposed to mean” is such a grating fucking question to hear from her when she of all people should know exactly what it’s “supposed to mean” because she meant the same thing not too long ago!

ALmost like she had...character development.

Even when Blake clearly doesn’t want to stand up for herself and just wants to leave (which is infuriating in itself) Weiss decides to be her White Knight and come to the rescue and make a big thing out of something Blake didn’t even want to be involved in. She didn’t throw that drunk asshole in a dumpster for Blake. She did it for herself. Because she wanted the ego boost. It was performative.

Or you know....she doesn’t like that shit personally. You know, same reason I’m here.

That’s why Weiss is bad. 

If you wanna see my previous opinions on Weiss, I literally have a tag called “Weiss sucks” lmao

So basically: Personal bullshit. Gee what a shock.

[zerot0all]

Venus Throw | M,A,F

Mafia Theme

The Boyz Sangyeon x Fem reader x Hwall

M- Mature (smut, violence, mentions of drugs, crude humor , mentions of gambling addiction, etc...)

In gambling a Venus Throw is the highest possible roll but in this life style a Venus throw gives you the most precious thing. Your life. Will luck be on your side?

————————————

.01

“Are you fucking kidding me!” You yell at the top of your lungs causing everyone in the room to jolt up. “I’m sorry sweetie, but this is the only solution.” Your father spoke in a low tone, his breath reeking of cheap alcohol and cigars.

“No , this isn’t the only solution! Why don’t you give up your freedom since you’re the one who got yourself into this problem!” You holler back, you were raging with anger. Your father was a chronic gambler and his excuse was that it helped him relax. But in reality that caused him more stress then anything.

“Look y/n, this is a good deal...you will be able to live a lavish life filled with riches while at the same time paying back my dept to the Heo Mob.” Your father responded trying to give a reasoning behind him selling you off to the Heo Mob in exchange for slowly repaying his massive dept that he had with them.

“Look, it was either you or your little sister, you decide.” Your father added with an annoyed tone.

“You’re fucking kidding, I wouldn’t let them have Daisy!” You spat back as you realize that your younger sister was listening to the conversation. As you took a seat you couldn’t help but feel the pressure of your fathers actions. Either you go willingly and become the wife of the Heo Mobs spoiled brat son and suffer ... or , have your little sister suffer. But in reality their wasn’t a choice you were going to agree to, because you would rather suffer than someone else.

“Fine.” You whispered as a single tear fell from your eye.

“I will become the wife of the Heo Mobs son.” You add as you got up and began to head out.

“Thank you sweetie.” Your father says jumping up and down in excitement holding onto your mother who never did anything but stand by idle.

“But you should know that once I become his wife, I will take Daisy away from you and and make sure you’re never allowed in any casino for the rest of your miserable life.” You say in a stern tone as you walk out the door. All you hear behind you is your father cursing your name and beginning to throw a tantrum. You had agreed to be the wife of someone you’ve never met and were going to meet for the first time...tomorrow.

Ding

Your phone rings alerting you of a new message.

My love: hey baby, it’s super busy tonight and I have to cover the bar but I just wanted to say goodnight and I love you.

Read 11:12pm

As you finished reading the message, you couldn’t help but fall to the cold ground and begin to cry. You had a life and even if your parents weren’t ideal, you had the most amazing boyfriend, Sangyeon. But now , you were engaged and not to him. How would you tell him? As you thought it over for a couple of hours you decided that their was only one solution to save yourself and Sangyeon. You began to text and hit send before you could regret it.

You: I want to break up! It’s over between us.

Sent 1:37am

Before you could receive a response , you turned your phone off. You knew Sangyeon wouldn’t let you go but he had to for his own safety. The Heo Mob was like any other mob , they were violent, feared and wealthy beyond belief. They didn’t handle rejection very well and if any of the stories regarding the son were true , you were in for hell.

The Heo Mob had one son, Hwall , he was known to be handsome but was also stuck up with a temper only his father could handle. He only dated the riches of the rich , why would he settle for marrying you? After a couple more minutes sitting out in the cold you decided to head home to rest a little before the mob would pick you up. Your house was pitch black but of course they would fall asleep without knowing where you were, it was easy for them to forget about you.

“It’s over huh?” You suddenly hear a husky voice say, you already knew who it was and you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

“Y/n , answer me...is it over?” Sangyeon asked again this time his tone was more anger rather then hurt.

“Yes.” You whisper as you nod your head.

“Look at me and tell me it’s over.” Sangyeon says as he spins you around and grabs your shoulders trying to meet your gaze.

“Yes, it’s over Sangyeon, fuck.” You say annoyed thinking that you would rather have him hate you then to have him continue to try with you. You pull away from him and push him back.

“It’s over, I’m tired of you and I’m done with this.” You say trying to muster all your energy and not break down infront of him.

“Bullshit.” Sangyeon says as he grabs your face and attaches his lips your yours. You tried to fight it for the first couple of seconds but you couldn’t resist him. You loved Sangyeon with every inch of your mind, body and soul. Sangyeon was your escape from reality, he was your savior. As he deepened the kiss with his tongue you couldn’t help but melt into him. He quickly pulled away and grabbed your hand pulling you into his car. Driving off, you knew exactly where he was taking you. The entire car ride was silent you didn’t even want to look at him because you knew you would cave in and tell him everything.

But you couldn’t do that to him. Sangyeon was strong, smart and so handsome... he was perfect. But for the sake of his life, you had to keep him away from your families messy ways.

“Now, talk to me baby.” Sangyeon says as he closes the door to his place. His house was your safe haven, you spent countless times there cuddled up with him while he comforted you. But you had to remind yourself that you belonged to someone else and that you needed to protect your sister, so you had to push him away.

“Talk about what? I already told you... We are over!” You say in a stern tone as you stay as far away from his as possible.

“Y/n, I know you better then anyone and I know that you’re lying.” Sangyeon says in a gentle tone as he tries to make his way towards your frame. You take a couple steps back because you know if you let your guard down you will fall right into his arms. “Sangyeon, our entire relationship you told me you valued my opinion and my decisions. Why can’t you just accept this one?” You say as you place your hand on the doorknob.

“Fine, if this is what you want I will let you...” But before he could finish you opened the door and headed out. You sat inside a cab, heading home your heart had finally finished breaking into a million pieces. In a couple of hours you were going to meet your future husband. As you rest your head back your eyes filled with tears thinking about what would soon become your reality.

“Y/n, wake up you need to get ready.” You hear your mother say as she shakes you awake. Your mother pestered with your hair and makeup as if that would increase your value to the Heo mob. As you finish getting ready you head out to the front of your house where three black SUVs took over your small neighborhood.

“Don’t worry Daisy, I will be back for you.” You say as you give her a kiss on her cheek and head inside the vehicle.

“So , how long will it take us to get to the Heo mansion?” You ask the driver but he gave you no response. It took about 50min to get to the mansion. It was even bigger then you could ever imagined, it looked like one of the houses from the dramas. The driver said nothing but opened your door and pointed you to the entrance.

“Good morning miss.” A young lady greets you as you enter the door.

“My name is Jooe and I will be your personal assistant.” The young lady says as she leads you into the living room. You sat on a huge couch trying not to fidget with your hands.

“Miss y/l/n!” You hear a voice say as you turn around, you are struck with such beauty and elegance. This gentleman was wearing all black with sequins and sporting even dark black hair in a mullet style.

“My name is Hwall but soon you will be calling me husband.” Hwall added with a smirk as he raised his eyebrow as he examined your frame. This was the man that requested to marry you in exchange for paying off a dept, why? This was the man that you would call husband instead of Sangyeon? The thought hurt like no other. As you sat back down your phone began to ring. The light flashed with Sangyeon‘s name, causing your heart to drop to your stomach. You quickly tried to silence it but you knew he would just continue to call.

“Maybe we should get you a different phone number. I don’t want anyone from your past contacting you. I’m a very jealous guy.” Hwall added as he stood up and motioned you to hand over your phone. He stood tall with a irritated expression on his face. Normally you would fight back but you were drained and maybe it was for the best that Sangyeon couldn’t get a hold of you. You slowly handed him your phone and he quickly took it from your hand.

“Well, he’s a persistent fella isn’t he?” Hwall added as he threw your phone on the floor and stomped on it to shatter it.

“Miss Jooe, take y/n to her bedroom and get her settled in. Please keep a close eye on her. See you soon honey.” Hwall added as he looked at you over his shoulder with a stern look before he left the room.

This was going to be your life from now on. You were to be isolated from the world in order to keep the people you loved safe. But the question that dawned on you was, why did Hwall pick you?

[CD]

[imaginetonyandbucky]

After Afghanistan tony became a part-time grim reaper assigned to the winter soldier, since Bucky has a messed up head he can see tony.

Take My Hand (Don’t Fear the Reaper)

Archive Warning: Major Character Death (Tony dies off-screen prior to the start of the story).

Chapter 1 (On AO3)

“This is bullshit,” Tony announced, looking down at his dead body. While he watched, his would-be savior, a tall, thin, slightly familiar looking older man sat back on his heels with a sigh.  He bowed his head and muttered something in a language Tony didn’t understand, probably some prayers for Tony’s newly departed soul or something.  “I’m right here, though,” said the newly departed soul, sourly trying to kick a rock and failing.

NOT FOR LONG, a deep voice said, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Christ!” Tony jumped and spun at the same time, then his face went blank with disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I’M NOT, BUT I DO GET THAT A LOT. The origin of the voice was a bony figure in a black robe, carrying a no-shit scythe.  Tony glanced at the man who had dragged himself to his feet and was reaching for a blanket to cover Tony’s face, but he didn’t show any sign of seeing the figure in black. Of course not, Tony thought.  He’s not dead.  INDEED, Death said. ARE YOU READY?

“Doesn’t it bother you to be a cliché?” Tony said, gesturing to the scythe and robe. “I mean, really?”

NO, Death said.  Its shoulders may have moved in a shrug, but it was hard to say. DOES IT BOTHER YOU?

“Hey!” Tony protested. “I’m not…” But as he stared down at the blanket covered lump that used to be him, he found that he couldn’t lie, not even to himself.  Spoiled rich weapons dealer who got killed with his own weapons?  It was the ultimate morality tale of one's own sins coming home to roost, missing only a lost but beautiful princess and a poor but noble prince.  “Well, shit,” he said finally.  “Yes. It does bother me.” He scowled as he watched the man move slowly around the room, tidying the mess that had been made by Tony’s abrupt, if short, residence in – what was this place? A cave? What the hell was he doing in a cave, anyway?

THAT’S UNFORTUNATE,  Death said, not unsympathetically.  BUT ITS TIME TO GO.

“Is this the part where I make a deal or like challenge you to a fiddle contest or something?” Tony paced around his body, still not willing to admit that it was over.  If he’d been in a hospital they could have used that shock cart or something to bring him back to life, but in this cave there was nothing so sophisticated; to Tony’s dismay, the man didn’t even have a sink to wash his hands in, he was just using the sand of the cave to dry up the blood on his hands before wiping them on a rag that wasn’t much cleaner.

CAN YOU PLAY THE FIDDLE? Death asked, sounding mildly curious.

“What? No, that was just…I mean, I can play the piano, and the violin a little. What I meant was, is there anything I can do to…” Tony started to run a hand over his face in frustration, but his hand just went right through his face without stopping.  Not real, not even to himself. “I just feel like it wasn’t supposed to end like this.” He straightened as a thought occurred to him. “I have unfinished business! I can’t go into the light if I have unfinished business!”

THERE IS NO LIGHT, Death said, this time sounding irritated. YOU CAN’T STAY.  I HAVE A STRICT NO GHOST POLICY. He pointed one long bony finger at a sign that appeared over his shoulder, a plain wooden thing that had “NO GHOSTS” written on it in careful, painstaking brush strokes.   Underneath, in slightly sloppier writing, it said “133,590 Days Since Last Ghost.”

They stood there for a moment while Tony scowled at the sign, at Death, and at the cave where the poor man was still trying to tidy up.  They stood there for long enough that Tony had a realization.  “You can’t make me go, can you?” he said. “I have to make a choice.”

NO, I CAN’T MAKE YOU GO, Death admitted. Just as Tony was starting to feel victorious, the man’s movements slowed until they came to a complete halt, right in the middle of him throwing away a pile of bloody bandages.  The dust floating in the air, barely noticeable, stopped its movements, and the faint buzzing of the hastily rigged lighting in the room went silent, making the room deafeningly quiet. BUT I CAN WAIT.

(More after the break!)

Tony knew himself better than to think he was going to be able to outwait Death.  He was many things but patient was not one of them.  “So there’s no other option?” He said, aware that he was bordering on wheedling. “Go with you or be stuck here in this moment forever?”

Death was quiet for so long that Tony was starting to think that he wasn’t going to respond when he heard a strange whistling noise.  It was a sigh, somehow exhaled through a skeleton.  THE ONLY OTHER OPTION IS FOR YOU TO JOIN ME. BECOME A REAPER.

“Seriously? I have to take your place? That’s a real thing?”

NO, THERE IS ONLY ONE DEATH. YOU WILL BE MY ASSISTANT.

“Oh. Like, I do what you did for me? Meet people when they die and help them move on?”

YES.

Tony thought about that for a while.  It seemed a bit morbid, but still better than leaving forever and going to the terrifyingly unknown place that comes next.  He didn’t know why the thought of moving on filled him with such dread and fear, but he did know he’d do anything to put it off as long as possible. “Sure, it’s a deal.”

VERY WELL. Death held out his skeletal hand and Tony shook it gently, wondering if he was supposed to feel different or look different as time resumed its course around them.  YOU CAN HAVE THE PROBLEM CASES, it said as it turned away.

“So do I get my own robe and scythe, or-” With the suddenness of flipping a switch, Tony was out of the cave and standing in a ditch next to a country road, staring at a crumpled mass of a car that had just hit a tree head-on.   A woman was standing next to it, looking confused.

“Hey,” Tony said as he approached, waving his hand to get the woman’s attention.  “Are you okay?” he asked out of habit, then winced.  Duh, she wasn’t okay, she was dead.

She turned to him and waved back at him, polite but vague, still looking confused.  “What just happened?” She frowned at the car, and then at the forest around them.  “I was in the car, something ran out in front of me, and then I was just standing here.”

“You had an accident,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “And you, uh, didn’t make it.”

“What do you mean? I’m fine, I’m standing right here-“ She turned to look in the car and Tony tried to grab her by the shoulders to stop her, but his hands went right through her, ending up in her chest. Tony jerked back, embarrassed, but the whole awkward interaction was enough to distract her from turning around.

“I don’t know if you should do that,” he said apologetically. He could see the woman’s body over her shoulder, and there was a lot of blood. “You should just trust me.  I’m here to help you move on,” he added.  “You know, take the next step.”

“So are you an angel?” She asked, looking dubious.  Tony glanced down at himself and realized he was wearing the suit he’d been wearing when the convoy was attacked, so as far as outfits he would be spending eternity in, it could have been worse.  He wondered if it was possible for him to change into something more casual and resolved to figure that out later.

“Uh, no, not really. I’m a, um, person, like you, that was chosen to help others cope with this…transition,” Tony offered.  “But I am sure you’ll meet an angel when you move on.” He realized that that was something he really should have asked Death about, and wondered if there was a way to contact him.

That was when the woman started to cry and Tony felt himself starting to panic.  He’d never been good with people crying. He couldn't pat her on the shoulder comfortingly, so he just said the kind of “there, there, it will be okay” stuff that he’d seen people do on TV, the whole time wondering if by “problem cases” Death had meant criers.  Then he started tuning in to what she was saying between sobs and realized she was not sad, she was angry.

“That goddamn-“ gasp “sonofabitch” sob “is going to” gasping sob “get away with it!” Then she screeched with rage, tears still coursing down her cheeks. “He cheated on me and now he doesn’t even have to pay alimony! He gets my life insurance! My retirement money!” She screeched again and stomped on the ground. “This is such bullshit!”

“Oh man, that does suck,” Tony sympathized, taking a surreptitious step backwards

“I’m going to haunt him,” the woman swore, eyes red and wild. “I’m going to make his life miserable-“

“I’m afraid not.  No ghosts allowed,” Tony said apologetically, taking another step back when she glared at him.

“That’s not fair!” But the rage that had come so quickly seemed to have burned itself out, because that wasn’t screeched at nearly the volume of her other rants.

“I know it’s not,” Tony agreed. “Both of us should have had longer lives, time to do everything we wanted, but this is just how it is.  But now you get to find out what’s next, and that’s gotta be a way better use of your time than wasting it on some asshole, right?”

She sniffled and wiped at the tears on her face, jumping when her hand passed through her face just like Tony’s had. “I guess that’s true,” she said.  “He’s not worth it. I hope he marries that greedy trollop, she’s going to take him for everything he’s worth.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said wryly. “Are you ready?”

The woman turned her face to the sky, glanced around the peaceful forest for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. So what do we do?”

Hell if I know. But Tony smiled confidently. “Just come with me,” he said, and they took two steps together away from the still-ticking wreckage of the car, and then-

GOOD WORK, Death said.  They were in some kind of blank, dusty plain – or maybe plane would be a better word – and Tony saw the woman disappear in a flash of light.  The look on her face before she disappeared was beatific, and that made him smile, feeling gratified that he had helped her go to a better place.

“Thanks,” he said as he turned back to Death. “Are they all going to be like that? The problem cases?”

NOT ALL OF THEM, NO.

Well that was good, at least.  “Hey before you go, I have some questions-“

But Tony was already in a new place, a tiny apartment where an old woman was puttering around trying to clean, apparently oblivious to the fact that her hands were going right through the knickknacks she was trying to arrange on the mantle.

“Guess I’m going to have to figure it out on my own,” he sighed, and went to go introduce himself.

[mentalmimosa]

none of this is righteous anger (part iii)

Previous installments here: [archiveofourown.org/works/18655771/chapters/44241928]

The kiss that matters most is tentative, taken behind a closed door miles from anyone, Steve’s bare skin damp under Tony’s hands and Tony’s shirt, his shoes soaked by the storm Steve’s dragged in.

Sunday starts off beautiful, the sun high in a clear azure sky, but by noontime when Tony’s starting to keep an eye towards the drive, the temperature’s stifling and there are big balls of cotton in the west. He checks the larder for the tenth time and takes a mug of Irish coffee to the porch, watches the wind kick up dust in the yard and hear the horses in the barn nickering to each other, nervous; they don’t need to see the sky to know what’s coming. They can feel it.

He makes a pretense of sitting and fails at it terrible; gets back up and paces the porch. The mug gets lighter and lighter until it’s empty and his head is just dulled enough to stifle the fist of panic that’s lodged in his throat. He’s desperate for another drink which means he damn well shouldn’t have one so he settles for a cigar instead.

The wind is fevered now, rattling the fences and the eaves. It’s running from town, the storm is, east to west in a fierce line; he can see the rain in sheets racing up the road, a wave of water drenching everything in its path, including, if he’s kept his damned promise, Steve.

For a moment, he imagines Steve standing outside the church door, the God-fearing men and women of Lee’s Crossing spilling out around him, chattering and blessing each other as they stare nervously up at the sky. Everyone else will have hurried home, saddled horses or skedaddled up the street, but Steve’s not supposed to go home, to that little room he rents above the pharmacy. He’s supposed to come here, as far away from home and Deacon Rogers and the onionskin pages of his Bible as he can get, but will he? God guided Noah through a storm like this one, didn’t he, but Steve and his mare don’t have the luxury of some giant boat.

Maybe this is a sign, Tony thinks, biting hard at his cigar, or that’s how Steve might take it, anyway: a personal deterrence from his Lord and Savior to stay the hell away from Tony Stark.

The first drops of rain hit the dirt. The wind turns to the east and grows cold.

No, Tony tells himself, sucking in sweet tobacco and remembering the look on Steve’s face at the door, the feel of his fingers as they stroked Tony’s hair. Hell or high water, surely. Steve would be there.

The rain kicks up and chases him inside and he sits in a cloud of his own making, brooding, half hard and half anxious and by God, what had Steve done to him? A do-gooder, the man was, somebody who saw the world in black and white--that’s how Tony had always thought of him; a man who set more store by his moral compass than by anything he might feel.

It wasn’t a busy job, was it, being a sheriff in a town full of misfits, people who preferred to keep to themselves. It’s what Tony liked most about Lee’s Crossing, why he’d decided to risk putting down roots: people here were far more interested in their own business than anybody else’s. Some folks might have called it self-centered, but to Tony, it was just common sense. He didn’t give a damn who the bank teller slept with or how the owner of the saloon made her real cash and in return, they never questioned why the son of one of New York’s richest men was living on his own on a ranch in Montana he’d paid for in gold that he’d earned himself by foxing other people out of their money. He played on their greed or their ego, the folks that he swindled; on their belief that it was their God-given right to live high on the hog while the people who cooked for them, cleaned for them, died for them in the War Between the States, languished in the shadows and thanked their Lord with genuine humbleness whenever He saw fit to grant them a meal. They reminded him of his father, the men he’d met in Chicago, St. Louis, even down in Texas: unthinking and arrogant and entitled, and he’d felt good about taking their money, about keeping some for himself and seeding the rest of it to people who actually needed it. Once he’d built a reputation for himself as a scoundrel, a dandy-ish ne’er do well, he was a honeytrap: irresistible to the rich and stupid in search of a thrill but persona non grata enough to make his forays outside of the great houses and well-lit streets invisible to all but a few.

Ten years, he’d moved about, flitting from one city to another, one state to the next, taking with one smooth hand and giving with the other. He’d ached to flee New York for ages, but the hostilities had made that impossible--never mind that his father had bribed the goddamn US Army to stave off conscription and done the same to stop him from enlisting.

“You’re too old,” his father had said irritably, eyes fixed on a bank book. “Too old and too fucking stubborn. You’d desert within a month. Or be court martialed within your first week.”

He was 30 when the war broke out. 30 and unmarried and the only son of an only son, the last of an uncertain line. He drank too much and spent his father’s money and before the ink was dry at Appomattox, he was bolting from the city without any goodbyes, with only his wallet and one valise in hand.

A decade of gallivanting, drifting, swindling, and then, a few years ago, he’d found himself in the middle of a town that was nowhere filled with people who didn’t look at him twice. He’d fallen in love with the great stretches of prairie, the snow that rolled off the mountains, the pleasure of owning and tending his own land. He had plenty of money; there was no reason to keep moving. He set down his stakes and decided to make the little ranch five miles from the town's center his home.

But then Clint Barton had crossed his path, his and a lot of other people’s. Barton had bought the feed store last year, swept in all flashy with a fat wad of cash and decided that meant he owned this town. Oh, he’d never done anything strictly illegal, so far as Tony knew, but he’d made himself a damnable pest. He’d gotten loud with the ladies at the saloon; tried to instruct the farrier on how the man should best shoe his horse; thrown over a table at the tailor’s when his suit hadn’t come out just right. So when word had reached Tony through an old friend in Helena that a shipment of goods meant for Barton might be waylaid for the right price, well, what could he do but finance the diversion and make a neat profit from the less-than-strictly-legal resale of all those bolts of cloth and plow blades and rice?

That Barton would get wind of it was probably inevitable, but that he would involve the sheriff, much less some outside detective? It’d taken Tony surprise.

But it hadn’t turned out so bad, had it? No, it had not.

He rolls a new cigar between his teeth and did not look at the clock. Where in the ever-loving hell was Steve?

Even now, it’s hard for him to believe that the blushing kid who wouldn’t take a whiskey the first time they met is the same one who came all over him, who sucked his cock and begged with those big blue eyes for guidance, who held his wrists and kissed him like a force of nature, a constant, something that could not be argued with. Just thinking about him makes Tony’s gut tighten, sends a rush of blood rivering south, gets the rusty wings of his heart opening, fluttering, and makes him want to say all kinds of damnable things.

For an exhale, two, he’s glad Steve isn’t beside him, isn’t curled up like a great blond cat beside his legs. He might be wont to look down, the mood he’s in now, and give words to something foolish that sound too much like--

There’s a pounding on the door, the startle of a fist. Tony almost falls out of his chair.

Outside, it’s still pouring, but there’s no more thunder or lightning. There’s only Steve standing there, soaked through and shivering, every inch of him touched by the rain.

“Oh, honey,” Tony says, grabbing his hands, ten cold fingers that catch on his own. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Come in."

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Every Time a Bell Rings

An “It’s a Wonderful Life” AU involving a lost and depressed Neil, an Andrew stuck in the afterlife trying to earn his wings, Dan as the Archangel, Wymack as God, and my usual level of snark and inappropriate humor mixed with angst.  Read on AO3 if you prefer.  There is depiction of depression and half-hearted suicide attempts so read on with care.

Chapter 1:

He was just so, so tired.

It had been days since he’d last slept properly; no, more like weeks.  He couldn’t even really remember.  The rainbow of bruises over his fractured ribs made it almost impossible to find a comfortable position, especially on bare ground.  The cops were starting to notice him hanging around the park.  He’d have to move on soon, but he didn’t know if he could find the energy.

He didn’t even have a name right now.  He’d been Alex when he’d punched that guy and gotten his ass kicked in response, but he hadn’t been able to think of a new one suitable for this hellhole.  There was his favorite name, the one he’d saved, tucked away for a better time and a better place, but he wasn’t willing to waste it on this life.  The license and passport would keep.  Or maybe that would be the name he’d be buried under.

He found a shady spot out of view of the sidewalk and curled up in a ball, his duffel under his head.  Sleep found him in short snatches, not enough to provide relief; when voices sounded way too close he got up, brushed himself off, pulled a leaf out of his overlong hair, and started walking.

Stomach grumbling, he wandered into the closest chain restaurant.  The woman behind the counter looked him up and down.  “Kid, you’re going to have to leave.  We’re not a charity operation.”

“I have money,” he said, his voice coarse from thirst and disuse.  But when she just crossed her arms and glared at him he turned and dragged himself away.

There was a cafe across town, and he knew the woman there would let him sit in the AC and eat and drink in peace.  But three days ago she’d slipped him a bowl of pasta salad he hadn’t ordered, and yesterday she’d given him half a dozen cookies for free, saying they were too old to sell.  

They’d still been warm.  He’d eaten them for dinner.

He didn’t think he could handle her green-eyed concern again.  The 7-11 on the corner was a safe bet, and he went in there and bought two bottles of water and a three-day-old sandwich, then sat on the curb and devoured it.  A couple of younger kids riding bikes across the street paused and stared at him.  Polishing off one water bottle, he tucked the other into the net at the end of his duffel and headed down the road that led out of town, the children’s light voices chasing after him.

More and more, he was starting to think this life was going to kill him, slowly and painfully.  His mother would have raged at his resignation; she had fought death for as long as she could, and had kept him from it by taking the lives of others again and again.  But she was gone now, had been for years, and he was forgetting how to keep going.

Sometimes he didn’t understand how he was still alive.  He bore scars of wounds that should have killed him, had escaped by jumping out of the upper story of buildings without breaking his legs, had leaped from a moving car into oncoming traffic, but somehow he always got up, always kept breathing.

The road crossed a river that bordered the town.  Halfway across, his feet stopped of their own accord.  The water was deep and swift thanks to summer rains in the mountains north of town, and he could almost hear it calling to him.  Not by any of his former names, but by the one name, the perfect name that he had never fully claimed.  This could end, right now.  This pain that flared with every breath, the emptiness that echoed with every weary step.  It would be done with, and he could be in sweet oblivion.  Gone.  It wasn’t like anybody would notice; he’d been invisible for years.  All he had to do was throw his legs over the railing and let go.

*****

Andrew had been sitting in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity.  It may, in fact, have been an eternity; time kind of stopped making sense once you were dead.  He still didn’t know why he’d been stuck here.  After all the shit he’d done he had expected to go straight to hell when that car jumped the median.  But for some reason, no.  It was just this boring room with informational brochures about the Guardian Angel Program (called Mind the GAP; Andrew kind of wanted to smack whoever had come up with that one) and background music that was probably supposed to be soothing but instead bored into his brain like a drill.  Of course, this could have been hell, but he doubted it.  There was nobody else here.

He jumped when a door he hadn’t known existed slid open and a disembodied voice said, “Please proceed to the pearly gates to meet with the Archangel.”  Slowly he walked through the opening, blinking against the cheerful sunshine.  The gates couldn’t be missed; they were enormous and ostentatious, and did in fact shimmer like pearl.  Part of him wanted to turn around, jump off the cloudy material he was standing on, anything but deal with an eternity of harp playing and nice people, but he clenched his fists and kept going.

A woman with short hair and rich mahogany skin was waiting at the gates, enormous wings folded behind her, so bright Andrew couldn’t look at them directly.  He stopped in front of her, and she greeted him with a slight nod.  “Andrew,” she said, and her voice was commanding.  “Welcome.  I am the Archangel.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a man,” he said.

“I get that all the time,” was her reply, and she turned and began walking along the wall towards a small building.  He followed, bemused; he wasn’t sure whether he was more irritated that everything he’d heard was probably going to be wrong, or that he wasn’t even unique in his assholery.

She opened the door and beckoned him inside.  The walls were covered in a million tiny screens, humans of all sizes, shapes, and colors moving across them.  A large man sat at a desk in the center, faint flames flickering up his arms.  He had no visible wings, but the energy radiating off of him felt like a nuclear explosion.  “Andrew,” he said, in a voice that was all voices, deep and high, masculine and feminine, harsh and beautiful.  “Welcome.  You may call me Coach.”

Andrew said nothing.  Coach and the Archangel studied him for a long moment.  “Have you read the brochures for the Guardian Angel Program?” Coach asked.

“You already know I did.”

Coach conceded that with a nod.  “Is it something you think you’d be willing to participate in?”

Andrew’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Why the fuck would you want someone like me?”

Neither of them blinked at the curse.  “Sometimes the best choices to help troubled people are those whose own lives were troubled,” the Archangel said.  “We have some of our best savior work done by those who have taken lives themselves.  It is about what is in your soul, not what you did with your human life.”

“And you think I have it in my soul to help someone in trouble.”

“It does not matter what we believe,” Coach said.  “It matters what you believe.”  

Andrew snorted.  “You’ve got the wrong guy,” he said.  “Maybe you meant my brother, he always wanted to be a doctor.”

“Your brother is already part of the program,” the Archangel said, and Andrew recoiled.  

“He’s dead?”

“Mmm.  A drug overdose.”

Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  It hadn’t occurred to him that with him gone, there would be nobody to get Aaron off the drugs.  “Your ‘GAP’ must be a pretty shitty program if it can’t stop things like that.”

“It is because of your brother, and millions of others like him, that we are trying this new phase in our program,” Coach said.  “We can’t always save people in the traditional way.  After all, we can’t take away free will.  But maybe we can help them to save themselves.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you have a supernatural Big Brothers/Big Sisters program going on up here.”

Coach made a noise that may have been laughter.  “You can think of it that way, if you like.”  He gestured to the screens.  “These are the people we are trying to help.  You may look.”  

Andrew walked to one wall.  There was a teenager crying in his room, and somehow Andrew knew he had just come out to his parents.  A girl in a bathroom, hunched over a toilet.  A woman in a man’s body.  A child, hiding from her uncle.  A kid, tightening a tourniquet around his bicep.  A young man, stumbling down a road, dragging a duffel behind him, despair across every line of his body.  

There was a knock on the door, and Andrew tore his gaze away from the screen he’d been watching to see an angel enter.  Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed, with iridescent wings; he looked vaguely like Coach and briefly Andrew thought about asking if he was Jesus.  “Kevin,” Coach said.  “What brings you here?”

“This guy,” Kevin said.  “Nathaniel, or whatever name he wants to go by now.  I can’t do it, I can’t get through to him.  I keep trying to help, but I think he’s out of reach.”

“You have been very focused on helping his physical body,” the Archangel said, “but that is not the damage that needs our skills.”

“If I don’t help him physically, he’s going to get himself killed.  I’ve been going crazy just trying to keep him from getting murdered, but then he does something stupid like piss off a biker three times his size.  I don’t even know how many bullets I’ve blocked, or how many times I’ve slowed his falls.”

Andrew glanced back at the screen with the man with the duffel.  He didn’t know why, but he was certain this was who this angel—Kevin—was talking about.  The Archangel was saying something, but Andrew wasn’t listening.  There was something on the man’s face, something too familiar.  Something he’d seen on his own face, more than once, when he looked in the mirror with a blade to his wrist.

“Hey, asshole?” Andrew said, waving his hand.  Kevin and the Archangel stopped talking and looked at him in surprise, while Coach looked vaguely amused.  “This your guy?”

“Yes, it is.  Who’re you?” Kevin asked.

“New guy,” Coach said.  “We’re recruiting.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Kevin said, and it was Andrew’s turn to be surprised; was this a curse when you were in heaven?  “Just what we need, another attitude problem.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said, and talked over whatever Kevin was going to say in response.  “I’m trying to help you here, dipshit.  Your guy’s about to go over.”

“Damnit,” Kevin said, rushing to the screen.  Andrew half-expected Coach’s energy to go supernova on them all but he just radiated amusement.  It took a minute before Andrew realized the amusement was directed at him.

Kevin let out a long-suffering sigh, drawing Andrew’s attention back to the screen.  “All right, let me go down and catch him, then I’ll figure something out.”

“Catching him isn’t going to solve anything,” Andrew said.

“It’s going to make him a lot less dead,” Kevin replied, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, for now.  But if it’s not this now, it’ll be something else later.”  All three of them were staring at him.  “Didn’t you just tell me it’s about helping people save themselves?”

“You have a better idea?”

Andrew looked back at the screen and hesitated.  He hadn’t even managed to save his own brother, in the end.  

“Touch the screen,” the Archangel said.  It didn’t make sense, but Andrew found himself reaching for it anyway.  A brush of his fingers and a thousand images embedded themselves in his brain.  A young red-headed boy, watching as a larger version of himself carved up a screaming man.  His hands shaking when a knife was pushed into them, then the knife clattering to the floor and the boy bracing for the blow that took him off his feet.  The same boy running, running, a brown-haired woman next to him gripping his arm while gunshots rang out.  An older version with blonde hair and gray eyes, sitting in a cafe in what looked like Paris.  Then light brown hair and brown eyes in a desert.  Dark hair and dark eyes as the woman gasped her last in the driver’s seat of a car.  The same boy—no, he was a man now—arguing with a man who was beating a dog.  Having a cigarette lighter pressed into the flesh of his arms.  The older red-haired man from the beginning falling in a shower of bullets.  Then back on the run in a new disguise.  Brown hair and piercing blue eyes, giving food to a man sleeping in a cardboard box.  Breaking up a gang of boys picking on another kid.  Punching a man in the throat for harassing a teenage girl, then getting the shit kicked out of him in an alley.  

Twenty years of a life, blinking by in a second.  When it was done, Andrew was reeling, but he knew what had to be done.  “Make him save you,” he said to Kevin.

Kevin snorted.  “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.  You’ve been up here for five minutes, I’ve been doing this for ten years.  The whole reason he’s alive—”

“Blah blah blah yeah, you’re wonderful, but he’s about to fucking kill himself.  Now, I don’t give a shit, but you obviously do.  He has a savior thing going on, think about what he did with that girl and those bullies and that dog.  Go down there and make him save you.”

Coach stood up.  “Andrew.”  Andrew looked at him.  “I’m sending you down there.”

“Coach, I don’t—”

But he blinked and the room and the angels and the screens were gone.

In its place was a bridge and the blinding sun, the pavement nearly hot enough to melt the soles of sneakers Andrew didn’t remember ever wearing.  The river roared down below, and the man was there on the opposite side, his duffel cast aside onto the bridge, his legs dangling.  He was about to drop, and Andrew had no time.  He glanced down and dizziness hit him at the distance between himself and the water.  Gritting his teeth against the nausea, he thought, I’m already dead, and threw himself over the railing, a breathless scream tearing out of him as he fell.

[baekhyuns-abs]

Tainted Fear

(gif not mine credit to the owner)

This is vampire Joonmyeon and his own Slave To Pleasure spinoff. When a girl saw Dinner and the gifs that came along with it I couldn’t stop myself. This idea just hit me like a slap on the clit face.  (this takes place before Slave to Pleasure) Sexual content.

“You need to relax.” Yifan announced boldly. Joonmyeon ran his hands over his face, distraught and irritated. “No, no, no, Yifan, n--” “When was the last time you had a good fuck?” Yifan sat on his office chair leisurely lifting his feet onto his creaky desk. Joonmyeon rolled his soft red eyes and shook his head. “I'm not dignifying that question with an answer.” Yifan smirked. “C’mon.” “I'm quite fine.” Joonmyeon insisted. “Luhan stole your last one, your favourite one I believe.” Yifan looked all too happy at the prospect. “So it must be a while.” “I don't have favourites.” He replied swiftly. Yifan brushed him off quickly, ignoring his argument as if he hadn’t even spoken. “There's some new ones that I've recruited, one I think you'll like--” “You know I hate this business, I've never indulged in this and I won't start now.” Joonmyeon snapped, standing from his chair. Yifan lowered his feet, standing and circling his desk to face his stubborn brother. A cunning look was sent Joonmyeon’s way as Yifan pulled back the curtain on his private booth. Joonmyeon watched as a girl no older than 20 quivered at the sudden reveal. She had large doe eyes that swam with fear and apprehension. Her small, tiny form looked lost on the lush satin sheets of Yifan’s personal booth. Her scent was delicious and her skin so soft as porcelain it made Joonmyeon’s mouth dry. She looked from vampire to vampire her breath baited with what was to happen. Her fear shook the atmosphere and it made Joonmyeon want to taint her fear with something much more sinful. Yifan knew him well; too well. “You always had a weakness for the frail ones.” Yifan drawled. “You haven't had one like this in a few good decades, you'd be stupid to turn this one down.” He was smug, his tone laced with smug truth. Joonmyeon heard her heartbeat just that little bit faster and his throat burned, it burned like it hadn't had blood in weeks. “She's a virgin too.” Yifan continued patronisingly. Nothing could save Joonmyeon at that moment, his core pulsed with need and the sound of her heart and the deepness of her breaths made his throat drier by the second. His eyes scanned her body, the loose fitting white gown reflecting her innocence and her young age, her disheveled hair, freshly washed but not brushed and her small round face. “I’ll have one of the maids bring her to the manor--” “No!” Joonmyeon forced himself to protest, he had to, for his own moral standing - he had to try. “-- All primmed and ready--” “Alright.” Joonmyeon glared at him, conceding. “You set it up - set it up exactly how I like it to be.” “It was good doing business with you, my friend.” Yifan smiled ~~~ Joonmyeon trudged back to the manor with a frustrated scowl on his face. The knocked out fisherman he dragged with him by the collar of his shirt hopefully enough to sate his hunger and his frustration for the time being. “Are you sharing?” Chanyeol passed him on his way to his office looking gleeful at his master’s meal. “Go and hunt your own. You still need practice.” Joonmyeon shot back ignoring his huff. Joonmyeon shut himself in his office, he started for the long table in front of his roaring fireplace and he tossed his prey atop of it like he weighed nothing but a feather. He pulled some anesthesia from his stash and injected it into the human’s bloodstream keeping him under. Joonmyeon had a long life, he was the best of the best, not like the elders he had crossed back when he was a youngling, but he was still extremely experienced. He hunted differently than the rest, he didn’t need that much blood like the rest, he was the second oldest vampire in their house. He didn’t bite into his victims - unless it was sex -, he liked to savior their livelihood, keep them alive as long as he could so their blood stayed rich. Dead blood was bad blood. He hung his velvet red blazer over his office chair and pulled a glass from his cabinet, his small blade clinking against the glass. He walked to his meal and pushing his jacket up his arm he pressed the small sharp blade to the side of his wrist. He caught the blood in his glass and raised it to his lips. The red thick liquid was bland and sharp but he drank it nevertheless.  Footsteps behind his door caught his attention and he turned. Zitao opened the door confidently and smiled at Joonmyeon. “This is for you.” The young vampire stepped aside and Joonmyeon could smell her before he saw her. He heard the tremble of fear in her heart and the strong scent of fear in the air. He took another gulp of his blood and he watched with a predatory gaze as his present walked in with alarm written clear on her soft features. Her lip was pouted and Joonmyeon couldn’t wait to suck it. She was without her scarce lacy lingerie Yifan had decorated her with she now wore an elegant dark green gown that had a tempting slit from her hip to the floor. Zitao pushed her inside gently and closed the door. A velvet choker was snug around her neck and the neckline of her dress was generous around the curves of her breasts. Joonmyeon’s throat began to feel scratchy. She stood almost shaking as she was left alone with the handsome vampire she had been given to. Her eyes drifted to the softly breathing man on the table to the glass in his hand filled with what she could only assume was with blood. Her heart lurched to her throat and her fists clenched at her sides. “Why are you scared?” She had heard him speak earlier, when he argued on the other side of the curtain of where she sat panicked in the office of the tall vampire. But it sounded different now, more lucious and deeper, dangerous as he drank the warm blood. She moistened her lips. “I… I don’t want to die…” It was a croak, it was almost inaudible and Joonmyeon just caught it. Joonmyeon rested his glass on the table, his head tilting and a small smile appearing on his face. “Who said anything about you dying?” She gulped and she looked to the floor unable to meet his coy red eyes. “Isn’t that what you do...?” “Sometimes.” She nodded silently and Joonmyeon licked the corner of his mouth. “Come here.” She looked up at him and her heart picked up speed. Joonmyeon had to root himself in his place to save the girl more terror at his monstorous nature. “Now.” His voice was a little firmer. She lifted her heavy feet and padded over to him slowly and she could barely breathe as she stood in front of him, a meter from him. She knew it could have been worse, she had heard the other girls in the whore house complain about ugly human pigs that couldn’t give them anything in return for their gross sex. Joonmyeon was a vampire, he had to know things and he certainly wasn’t ugly. But there was another vampire she had heard of in this house, he was supposedly the nicest but she held her breath reminding herself - it could be worse. “Closer.” Her bottom lip trembled and she blinked away the tears as she did so, her steps small as she came to him. She stood her breasts to his chest, almost touching, a whisper away. Joonmyeon looked down at her, his red eyes sharpening as her studied her face up close, pleased. Her hair had been wrapped up messily in an updo, some of the strands falling to her cheeks. Joonmyeon lifted a finger, twirling them in his fingers. She tensed with the proximity and the coldness of his skin as it whispered against her cheek. “Have you ever been kissed?” He asked. She couldn’t look away from his face. “No…” She husked. Joonmyeon’s eyes darkened and his hand slipped to the nape of her neck, drawing her in closer making her shiver. He dipped his head and she didn’t dare to blink as he closed his cold lips over hers. Her eyes fell closed at the feeling and she felt her knees tremble as his hot tongue ran through the seam of her lips. The sensation was strange but not unwelcome and she felt herself reacting to it, surprising herself. Joonmyeon hungirly kissed her lips, both hands sinking into her hair, pulling apart the up do uncaringly. He pulled her hair, making her arch against him as he deepened the kiss, pressing their bodies together. She was warm, hot energy against him and he wanted more. She felt dazed, as she tried to kiss him with as much passion as she could muster. Her made her mewl in her throat and her cheeks flared with embarrassment; she made that sound, she didn’t know she could. Her legs were useless when she felt the sharpness of his protruding fangs against her exploring tongue. She felt them next on her bottom lip and she gasped a the sharp prick of pain as they broke the skin effortlessly. The bittersweet taste of blood touched his tongue and Joonmyeon groaned. The noise created a wave of liquid heat spread down to abdomen. His lips closed over the wounds and he sucked lavishly on her rich blood. Pain melted into numb pleasure as she moaned wistfully in his iron grip. Joonmyeon detached himself from her mouth, licking away the remaining blood that oozed from her puffy delicious lip. He let her hair go and with hooded eyes she watched as he picked her up in his strong arms. Her surroundings blurred as she was taken from the room, through a door next to a bookshelf to his bed. She lay still on the white satin sheets as her vampire stood above her, his expression thoughtful with wicked desire. He kept her dress on, running his hand up her leg exposed by the revealing slit. She shivered at his breathtaking cold touch. Her arousal hung air in the air and Joonmyeon was delighted. She wore no underwear and it was easy to push her legs apart to feel her wetness on her inner thighs. “Still scared?” He asked as he pushed her dress up her body. He hovered over the lower half of her body and her face was red hot as his face was directly over her exposed heat. She itched to cover herself, shy and uncomfortable but his look kept her still under him. She bit down on her finger and shook her head unable to find the words to speak.   Joonmyeon bent down and when he opened his mouth she saw a glimpse of his threatening canines. “Good girl.” He licked her inner thigh and all her breath left her in a rush. His hand travelled down the expanse of her skin between her legs till it reached her soaked core. Her breath got caught in her throat as his finger drifted against her slit slowly, making her shake at the rush of new sensations that hit her brain. Her eyes wide and her mouth open he found her clit, the bundle of nerves quivering at his cold touch. His finger traced her entrance delicately and she subconsciously bucked her hips to his hand, her body becoming a slave to his touch. A loud mewl left her throat as his finger pressed tightly against her walls, pumping in and out of her slowly. “Shit.” He muttered against her thigh feeling just how tight she really was. He bit down on her inner thigh, unable to stop himself and her legs stiffened around his shoulders. He carried on fingering her as blood poured into his mouth. She felt the stabbing pain in her thigh and she cried out, her hands fisting the pillow. She felt the pleasure of his pumping fingers and the sucking numbing pain of his mouth attached to her leg and all of it together was intense. She couldn’t find the humiliation anymore when she screamed not even when she felt the best pleasure in the world rock her body and soak the sheets. Joonmyeon licked the wound clean, his fingers coaxing her, calming her as they slowly left her center. Blood stained his chin but she didn’t feel scared, not by the blood, not by him, just of herself of her body as he pulled the straps down her arms, pulling the dress down her body, exposing her all to him. She could barely keep her eyes open as she watched Joonmyeon raise to stand at the foot of the bed, watching her as he pulled shirt apart, slowly, button by button. She looked delicious in just her choker. “Turn over.” His voice was gruff and she sluggishly rose on her arms to do as he said as best as she could. She tucked her knees beneath her, remembering what she had seen briefly at her time at the house. She felt the bed dip behind her when he was completely naked and she bit her lip, apprehensive. Joonmyeon pushed her tense thighs apart, situating himself between them. He pressed his hand down on her lower back, smoothing it up her back, pressing her down, pushing her ass up higher and pressing her face into the mattress. “Are you ready?” She felt his thumb pressing against her button again making her squirm. She wanted to say no but she knew that was the wrong answer. “Yes.” She choked. Joonmyeon held her hips as his thick shaft slowly breached her. She whimpered in pain, her eyes clenching. “N-no-!” He held her still as he slowly filled her up, inch by inch. “Relax.” He cooed, his voice strained. She pressed her face into the sheets, tears brimming her eyes as he moved inside of her. He felt her pain and he scented her tears. He wanted to lose control on her body, lose himself in sex - but not yet. His hand looped around her hip, finding her clit quickly making her clench around him so invitingly. She gripped the bars of the headboard so hard her knuckled whitened. He moved his hips slowly pounding her softly and deeply as her whimpers gave way to moans. Pain melded into bliss and she pressed her cheek to the tear soaked mattress, her mewls freely filling the room as Joonmyeon fastened his pace, He palmed her ass in his hand as he fucked her harder, making her yell louder. She felt like she was in heaven as he made her toes curl, her second orgasm crashing into her body violently making her shake. Joonmyeon ripped his cock from her, her juices dripping down her legs and she sighed at the empty feeling. His finger left her clit and that hand came down hard on her ass. She cried out at the sting, tears blurring her vision and in one fast lithe movement he thrust himself deep inside of her. Her throat felt hoarse as he did it again and again, pushing in her so deep her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Orgasms blended into each other creating such intense pleasure that she didn’t know if she would ever be able to walk again.

[attackingstarfish]

Just finished LoZ: Wind Waker...

I normally never post, but I recently wrapped up Wind Waker HD (Yes, I’m late to the party), and it is so far removed from the usual Zelda fare that I just had to compile my thoughts. And if I’m compiling my thoughts, I might as well yell them into the void.

You will have to show me physical proof that Wind Waker is not Ocarina of Time from the Opposite Dimension, where windows are the primary means of entering your house and people worship at the altar of Hello Games, because despite me being almost exactly as satisfied with Wind Waker HD as I was with Ocarina of Time 3D, the greatest sources of joy are flipped with the biggest annoyances between the two games.

Yay!

Breath of the Wild had won me over in part because the entire world felt cohesive; you could go anywhere on the map without having to encounter a single loading screen, and I had no idea Wind Waker did the same thing. The Great Sea is a vast trove of trees, pirates, and treasure, with the occasional giant squid attack or salutation from the Flying Dutchman. Each of the 49 segments contains an island that is often unique in purpose, and you’re very rarely sent to a specific island for a specific item by a specific character. Instead, the entire overworld becomes open to you as soon as you grab your sail on Windfall Island, and you have a literal sea of knowledge before you as the 49 fish that serve as your guidebook to the game take their places.

A couple of islands start off closed, unable to be reached until you get the Iron Boots or the Bow or the Hulk Hogan suplex manual, but that’s it as far as what you can’t reach, and the squares of ocean containing even these islands can be reached as early as any other zone, fish and all. The fish are easy to spot, splashing around near their respective region’s landmass, and to reward taking to initiative to explore, a surprising amount of what they tell you can be put to use immediately, like the location of the all-new extra-fast wind-changing sail the remake’s added to speed up travel. Good thing, too, because there’s a point where travel time stops being buildup and becomes padding, especially when you have to dance a round of Hands Up every time you want to change direction. Later in the game, when you’re better equipped, you could stop by one of those islands you couldn’t figure out earlier on, and figure out what to do with just one more trip around the border. Nothing pops up on your map to indicate that suddenly you’re able to access anything new, and your boat doesn’t  wonder whether the eastmost pillar on island A7 has met any nice hookshot targets lately. The game trusts that you can navigate the uses for your gear yourself, which I value. Fewer tutorials, more expectations.

Even the story serves the game’s hands-off attitude. Ocarina starts with Link going into the Deku Tree to purge it of some unspecified evil (What exactly does Gohma do in there, anyway?) before coming out to be told of his fate to kill a man he has never met before and become Hyrule’s savior. Link takes up the mantle in that game only because the gods who have not and will never make a proper appearance want him to do it. Meanwhile, Wind Waker opens with Link putting on the green tunic to make his grandmother happy for a day, right before his sister, who clearly adores him, gets kidnapped by a giant bird, and he teams up with pirates to sneak into a fortress and rescue her but instead gets bitch-slapped by Ganondorf, who turns out to own the place and the bird. In addition to being awesome because pirates kick ass, Link’s introduction to the man who wants him dead feels a lot more natural here, and Ganondorf doesn’t even come into the plot for real until the second half of the game. Link’s got a sister to save, and everything he’ll do to accomplish that goal will demonstrate him to be worthy of the Master Sword, which itself seems to prefer this organic sort of journey, seeing as the Link who set out to get the Master Sword from the beginning ended up locked in solitary confinement by the thing while it allowed the man it was created to kill to instead take over the world. Evidently the Master Sword is a strong, independent blade beholden to no one who can’t think for themselves, and anyone who disagrees can spend some quality time with the nice old man who loves to talk and talk and talk and talk.

The characters in Wind Waker feel more on the dynamic side than Ocarina’s. At first I was a bit surprised that i felt that way considering Ocarina had you view two very different versions of Hyrule, but Ocarina’s characters either don’t change in personality much between time periods or don’t make an appearance in one of the two at all. Talon’s still lazy in the future, the carpenters are still idiots, the Lake Hylia scientist is still mad, the Kokiri of course don’t change at all, you see none of the Zoras after their caves are frozen over, etc. Not to mention Ganondorf, who doesn’t get much beyond “evil Gerudo thief king who wants to take over the world because of reasons,” even if he gets a bit further than many movie/game villains and is able to demonstrate exactly what he’d do while in charge and why he’s so dangerous. Wind Waker, meanwhile, has even a fair few one-off characters with their own tiny arcs. Mila goes from stuck-up rich kid to poor as dirt and struggling to adapt, so out of her element that she resorts to stealing money from her new boss until Link catches her and helps her stay true to herself in the future. Maggie’s father starts out so desperate for Link to save his daughter that he will annoyingly stop you in your tracks every time he so much as glimpses you and repeat his pleas for help, but after Maggie is returned home and he strikes it rich through no deed of his own, he decides everyone else is beneath him and starts bitching at Link, the Rito postman, and anyone who thinks repeatedly boasting about your own fabulous wealth makes for poor dinner conversation. Even Ganondorf himself is given more than a simple desire to take over Hyrule this time around, as his belief that the rest of the kingdom deserves to suffer the way the Gerudo suffered in the desert is brought to light. 

Boo!

Part of the reason I liked the dungeons in Ocarina of Time so much is that they had a way of coming full circle at the end, or even a smaller full circle in the middle. You’d come across something at the beginning, go “Huh, that looks cool,” then move on. An hour later, BOOM, payoff, and likely in a way you didn’t even expect. The web serving as the floor in the Deku Tree and the blue stone head at the back of Dodongo’s Cavern come to mind. Plus, there were often open rooms that allowed you to get a handle on where everything else was relative to you, and gaze upon areas you’ll visit once you find the Hookshot or Hover Boots. Wind Waker’s dungeons are the antithesis of the rest of the game, they’re cramped and, for the first half of the game, overly linear. Dragon Roost never musters up much more challenge than “kill enemy in front of you, go through door in front of you, repeat,” a far cry from the wall-climbing around the first half of the Deku Tree. Re-hydrating the bombs to get into the place is arguably as clever as you get with it, which for me is the perfect representation of the amount of thought that went into everything surrounding the dungeons vs. the amount of thought that went into the dungeons. And aside from those spinning leaf wheels in Forbidden Woods that wouldn’t know what a wind was if they were fired for incompetence and forced to spend the rest of their lives at its mercy, this is best illustrated during the teamwork-based dungeons with Medli and Makar toward the end of the game .

Considering how often you have to switch between characters to set up a Mirror Shield reflect or to hit a switch or to plant a seed or because you got hit fucking once, it would’ve been nice not to have to do half the Macarena every time you want to switch to your companion’s viewpoint. It also would’ve been nice if the controls of your partners didn’t make me want to offer them to the Floormasters. That said, Medli wasn’t awful. Yes, her flight was a bit hard to direct, there was no way to halt her Link-bearing glide without throwing her, and the number of times you had to hop on the Wind Waker was a pain, but the irritation was diminished when lot of her roles involved standing still and shining light while you played as the character the game actually put work into handling. Plus, my wave of enthusiasm from the first moment I walked under a spotlight while carrying her and saw the light reflect lasted me quite a ways into the dungeon, so my memories of the Earth Temple are okay enough.

On the other hand, Makar. (I still call him Oaki, which should indicate how memorable Makar’s character is) When flying with Medli, all that was required was good aim when leaping off any ledge you were leaving, whether she was on her own or supporting Link. Makar has to fly in patterns more complex than straight lines, so naturally his controls are twice as stupid. You have to repeatedly press A to fly, speeding up or slowing down your button presses to increase or decrease the amount of lift as you go. Button mashing as a recurring mechanic, yay. Its imprecise nature becomes worse when the vertical nature of the dungeon’s biggest room has Makar rack up a ton of momentum from the amount of rising and falling he’ll be doing, leaving you struggling to adjust your frequency to keep up, with aerial endurance that makes you wonder how the Korok seed-spreading ritual has not led them to extinction by mass drowning. Fortunately, there’s a giant fan you can activate at the bottom of the room to blow yourself upward and kill any chance you have at forward progress. You’d think that being able to coast to the top of everything would be a good thing, but being in the fan’s range of “anywhere” causes Makar to eschew any direction that isn’t straight up (as his flight meter drains!), when running out of flight power has the same effect but downwards. If that wind catches you while you’re trying to cross the room, you’re left to watch as Makar is frozen in place while his energy drains to zero, wait for the fan to stop, fall several stories to the bottom of the room, and walk about two feet toward where you want to go before the fan activates again and restarts the cycle. And that’s assuming one of the many flying enemies doesn’t brush Makar and throw the camera back behind a Link who’s attempting to keep calm by doing the wave.

The combat took some getting used to. Ocarina’s combat was fine; it was easy to tell what you were in range to hit, and timing your swings properly could get shield-wielding enemies like Stalfos in a loop where continually accurate shots would finish them in seconds. In Wind Waker, Link’s attacks don’t reach quite as far as his sword would indicate; you’d think the gods would make sure their magical evil-smiting blade is most capable at the end that goes in the King of Evil, but I guess not. “Just The Tip” is a no-no with these monsters, so it’s either impale them in full or let them dominate you.

Meanwhile, you have two options for your targeting system, and they both suck. You either hold down L as long as you want to keep an enemy targeted, which before long will cause your left index finger to rebel against its draconian master, or press the button once to start targeting and press it again to target a different enemy, leaving you with no way to stop targeting the enemies and put an arrow in the switch. This wasn’t that big a deal in Ocarina, since Link had a wider vertical range with the bow and there were never many enemies hounding you  when there was another immediate objective to complete, but in Wind Waker, you can expect a rainbow of respawning Chu’s to ambush you around the clock. It sours a lot of dungeons and dungeon-themed areas for me. That’s why the Wind Waker experience was so surprising; the dungeons were a slog to get through and felt less like a collection of clever puzzle ideas suiting each region’s theme and more like an obligation to throw in because it’s Zelda, yet everything surrounding them felt engaging and intriguing enough to make me want to keep playing and find out what happened to everyone.

(Tower of the Gods was pretty cool, too.)

[lillesbianthatcould]

answers to anon

Is a kiss considered cheating? yes

Have you ever faked orgasm? i don’t think so

If you could have one superpower, what would it be? FLY 100%

Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years? haha definitely not

Tell us some funny drunk story. i’ve only been ‘drunk’ once and it wasn’t super exciting or anything. i remember running around in circles in the grass w/ my friends seeing how many i could do before i fell down or threw up lmfao

Why are you no longer together with your ex? well, i’ve had quite a few ex’s and none of them are even SLIGHTLY comparable to my current girlfriend. tbh no one ever could be in any way. she’s my soulmate and i wouldn’t trade her for the world.

If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be? in my sleep, in bed with my gf holding my hand.

What are your current goals? to get through the next 6 months or so without too many hurdles, and to do exceedingly well with the certificate i’m planning to get in order to get a full-time job so i can live by my gf (:

Do you like someone? obviously yes ^^

Who was the last person to disappoint you? probably one of my old friends

Do you like your body? i’m beginning to honestly

Can you keep a diet? if i put all my effort into it, i’m sure i could manage. i just don’t want to lmao.

If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say? love yourself first

Do you work? yep

If you could choose only one food to eat to the rest of your life, what would it be? probably either cheese or potatoes

Would you get a tattoo? already have one, want soooo many more

Something you don’t mind spending all your money on? presents for my girlfriend or my friends

Can you drive? yes, i wouldn’t have a relationship if i couldn’t tbh

When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful? uhhh idk

What was the last thing you cried for? a stupid reason lol

Do you keep a journal? yeah sorta

Is life fun? sometimes

Is farting in front of people irrelevant? it’s funny ?? lmao

What’s your dream car? definitely a 67′ chevrolet impala

Are grades in school important? yeah i mean, they weren’t my biggest priority when i was in high school, but they are pretty important if you’re wanting to get into a 4 year college and whatnot.

Describe your crush. she’s fucking stunning. so intelligent. extremely sweet and kind. overall the most amazing woman i’ve ever known. (besides my mom ofc)

What was the last book/movie that really impressed you? the glass castle. great movie.

What was your last lie? probably about eating lunch - i always tell my gf or mom that i ate, when sometimes i don’t (not because i’m restricting myself but because i’m either too lazy to make food or because nothing sounds appetizing).

Dumbest lie you ever told? i haven’t told many crazy lies or anything that i can remember..

Is crying in front of people embarrassing? nah, at least not to me. i always try to tell my friends, “crying is good. we all need to do it. don’t worry about looking dumb because you won’t to me.”

Something you did and you are proud of? uhh well it’s not a huge deal but on my last trip up to see my gf, i gave this lady at the grocery store a ride to her house because it was pouring rain and she lost her keys. i felt really bad, i wasn’t gonna make her walk home with a whole cart of groceries (she had a limp and was on the older side) and although it wasn’t my safest idea, it was still nice and she called me her savior like 100 times and said i was an angel from heaven, so that was sweet. (:

What’s your favourite cocktail? i don’t drink lol

Something you are good at? umm idk tbh.. i’m pretty decent at basketball????

Do you like small kids? yes as long as they’re respectful and sweet

How are you feeling right now? pretty good!

What would you name your daughter/son? son: atticus / daughter: mable

What do you need to be happy? music

Is there some you want to punch in the face right now? yes always

What was the last gift you received? i think it was when my friend zoe surprised me with sweet-tarts on my break at work and it was so nice. i love her sm.

What was the last gift you gave? it’s technically not a gift but i just mailed  some random cute stuff to my gf and she opened it on skype like an hour or so ago (:

What was the last concert you went to? green day in st. louis, missouri!!

Favourite place to shop at? either h&m or old navy

Who inspires you? morgan freeman tbh

How old were you when you first got drunk? like 16 i think

How old were you when you first got high? probably early 16 also.

How old were you when you first had sex? 17 i think ?? or i had just turned 18

When was your first kiss? we don’t speak of that

Something you want to do until the end of this year? bANG MY GF

Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done? ohhh so many things

Post a selfie. ok i will 

Who are you most comfortable around? honestly cami

Name one thing that terrifies you. the ocean

What kind of books do you read? the typical basic-as-fuck teen novels

What would you tell your 12 year old self? don’t spend so much time on any of those people. you’ll lose them all in like 5 years. it’s so fckn sad but true like… i am not friends with a single person i was friends with back then.

What is your favourite flower? roses bc i’m baSIC-AS-FUCK

Any bad habits you have? uhhhh overthinking, comparing myself, not eating when i’m stressed, talking to people that aren’t worth my time, giving too many damn chances.. the list goes on and on.

What kind of people are you attracted to? idk nice people?? people who have the same sense of humor as me. idk like if you like trump,,,, we probably wouldn’t work out lmao.

What was the last thing you cried for? i think i already answered this but it was over someone i’m no longer friends with. idk it was earlier today & not worth it.

Is there something you don’t eat? Some food that truly disgust you? PINEAPPLE 

Are you in love? very

Something you find romantic? i like random notes or texts or cute shit to remind you that the other person is thinking about u

How long was your longest relationship? it is the current one i am in - 1 year and over 8 months so far.

What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex? uhhh idk this is a weird question for me

What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex? again ?? it’s weird ??

What are you saving money for? i should be saving it for moving away lmao. but i’m using most of my money on christmas presents for my gf, friends & parents.

How would you describe your bad side? HANGRY

Are you actually a good person? Why? idk think so ? maybe ? but sometimes i think i’m the worst person ever so ????

What are you living for? my future plans with my girlfriend honestly & cause i have the sweetest niece now (’:

Have you ever done anything illegal? yeah

Do you like your body? some of these questions are repeating lol ^ it’s also Q #11

Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally? yeah but not directly i don’t think :/

Ever sent nudes? all day erryday

Have you ever cheated on someone? nah

Favourite candy? anything sour especially sour jolly ranchers uggfuugfgf

Is there a blog you visit every day, or almost every day? Tag it! @wulfwire it’s my alpha gay (; she’s da best, go follow her !!!

Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game? i don’t really have time to play anymore :// 

Favourite TV series? THE OFFICE UHGGHHFGHD

Are you religious? Does God exist? i used to be christian and believe in god and whatnot, now i guess you’d call me agnostic?? like i believe in *something* but not in ‘God’ necessarily. 

What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why? i haven’t read in so longgggg

What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism? i mean, you do you. i know for a fact i couldn’t do it because i’m so picky and depend on dairy products so i know i could never go vegan and idk man it’s just so much work.

How long have you been on Tumblr? since july of 13′ so wow. over 4 years… 0.0

Do you like Chineese food? ehh. i’m trying to like it more!

McDonalds or Subway? mcdonalds probably.

Vodka or whiskey? neither bleh

Alcohol or drugs? drugs ?? i guess - only if weed counts ??

Ever been out of your province/state/country? yes many times

Meaning behind your blog name? don’t wanna talk about it

What are you scared of? lots of things; insects mainly, and open water - like not even just the ocean, but even lakes and ponds too. 

Last time you were insulted? i can’t remember ?? damn, that’s a great feeling

Most traumatic experience? probably the time i was having seizures for 5 years straight. thankfully i’ve been seizure free for about 6 years now.

Perfect date idea? something corny or cheesy idk. i love simple things like going to a park and talking for hours and eating ice cream and laughing about nonsense.

Favourite app on your phone? tumblr for sure, or 8-ball pool *cause i’m such a cool kid* 

What colour are the walls in your room? navy blue

Do you watch Youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber? always and forever a fothermucker (; @jackskellin

Share your favourite quote. “i’d rather be hated for who i am, than loved for who i am not.” - miles mckenna 

What is the meaning of life? who knows, man. just enjoy the ride.

Do you like horror movies? eh not really, i’m a total baby. but my new friend is probably gonna end up making me like them cause that’s all she watches.

Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened? yeah probably a bunch of times. we used to fight all the time. we both weren’t mentally great a few years ago. mainly due to my dad dealing with being an alcoholic. we’re much better now, thankfully.

Do you feel lucky or special in a way? yeah i definitely feel lucky a lot of the time.

Can you keep a secret? always.

[adella-the-romantic-blog]

Get To Know Me (even tho literally no one asked lol)

*PERSONAL DETAILS

Nicknames? Kirbs, mostly. My coworkers at an old job called me Kirbstomp, which birthed the name that I use for literally everything. My family calls me Sue because they thing that “Kirby Sue” is a better southern name for me. Where do you live? lol south Louisiana kill me pls What’s your age? 24 Hair color? Black Eye color? Brown Height? 5′2 on a good day Date of Birth? November 16th What’s your star sign? I’m the truest Scorpio you’ve ever met hello Element? Water How many siblings? Two half siblings How many pets? I have 4 dogs (Harley, Gizmo, Bandit, and Kokomo), two of which technically live with my parents, and a corn snake named Peach Obsessions? Pokemon, Disney, snakes, slime (don’t u fuckin judge me it’s so cool) Bad habits? Drinking until I pass out does that count really? Phobias? Falling, the void

*ABOUT YOU

What makes you happy? Rainy days, 50 First Dates, spending time with any other human ever What really irritates you? Hot air, water left on the edge of the sink, spending too much time with any other human ever What makes you sad? pft everything hi i’m depressed What makes you angry? People who slow down too much while trying to turn, living in the south, Trump’s America What makes you scared? Under cooked chicken, when a friend doesn’t text me that they made it home, Trump’s America (see I did the thing again) Who is your best friend? Julie, who I met through the last Disney rp I was in on Tumblr, Alex, who I met through this Disney rp on Tumblr, and Wade, who I met through Ms. Roxie’s pre-k class.  Ever broken a bone? Yes, broke my tailbone playing softball. What was the last CD you bought? Christ, um... maybe... Paramore? Brand New Eyes?  What was the last book you read? It’s Kind Of A Funny Story by Ned Vizzini Who was the last person you spoke to? Like spoke-spoke? My mom. Texted was my friend Becca. What was the last thing you ate? Mushroom rice What was the last thing you drank? Uh idk some V-8 stuff that tastes like the gummy watermelon Lifesavers What’s the best thing you’ve ever bought? My gaming computer, probably. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever bought? My gaming computer, probably. What’s the best thing you’ve ever been given? A house. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever been given? My mom likes to believe that she’s good at picking out clothes to give me for Christmas. She isn’t. What are your future goals? My current goal is to make it out of Louisiana in one piece. One step at a time. Describe your bedroom? Woo okay. It’s like a small apartment. I have a fenced in yard where Harley and Gizmo can run and play and not get lost in the woods, and a covered, wooden porch with a table and chairs where I keep my crystals laid out so that they can be in the moonlight as much as possible. There’s fairy lights strung up around in the rafters of the porch roof. The door opens into my room, to the left is my bed in the corner with grey sheets, a black comforter with a gold mandala inlay, and a giant Maui TsumTsum that I cuddle with at night. There’s a star map tapestry on the wall next to my bed, and in front of the bed is my TV stand. There’s a basket in the corner that holds all of my records and a small table that holds my record player (Fleetwood Mac Live is on the player now). Next to my closet door there is a small terrarium hung that holds some sand and a succulent, and the same goes for th terrarium hung next to my window. I’ve framed concert posters of the Beatles and Elvis (fight me) across from my bookshelf. Who do you consider the most beautiful woman in the world? Well, I mean *unrolls mile long scroll* have you got time to talk about our lord and savior Idina Menzel? If not there’s Karen Gillan and Natalie Dormer and Elizabeth Gillies and Who do you consider the most handsome man in the world? Maybe... idk maybe Ryan Reynolds? Favorite thing to do on a hot summers day? Swim so that I don’t feel like my skin is melting off Favorite thing to do on a snowy winters day? PLAY IN THE SNOW GIVE ME THE CHILLY GOODNESS If you were granted 3 wishes, what would they be? A better life for my dad, the money and willpower to make something of myself, so much money. If you could go back in time to see or change something, when would it be and what would you do? Wow um... there are so many things I’d go back and change honestly lmao What’s the first thing you think about when you wake up? Is it cold yet? or Please don’t let it be 9:30 yet. Do you believe in the after-life? EhhhHHHHHHHHH???????? Where do you see yourself in 10 years time? I honestly have no idea What’s the funniest joke you’ve ever been told? “It’s just a phase.” *aggressively turns Pokemon music up* Any hidden talents? Does telepathy count? I can kind of sing too? Dream job? Zookeeper Who is your hero? Honestly Idina Menzel Describe yourself in 3 words: Loyal, charismatic, lazy

*FAVORITES

Favorite color? Pink Favorite number? 3 Favorite animal? Snake Favorite sport (to play)? Volleyball Favorite sport (to watch)? Football, baseball, volleyball Favorite Show(s)? Golden Girls, Steven Universe Favorite movies? Aladdin, 50 First Dates Favorite band? Paramore, Fleetwood Mac Favorite song? Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston Favorite room in the house? My bedroom Favorite food? Pizza Favorite drink? Bahama Mama Favorite place? Coyote Drive-In in Fort Worth, TX Favorite cartoon character? Garnet on SU, Princess Jasmine Favorite day of the week? Thursday Favorite day of the year? Halloween and my birthday Favorite season? Fall Favorite Holiday? Halloween Favorite girls name? Kalista Favorite boys name? Emery Favorite country? England Favorite smell? Coconut Favorite sound? Rain Favorite accent? British Favorite Ships (in or our of BDRP)? Pft mine (I think Octoclam might be my favorite don’t tell the others or Alex) Favorite Fandoms? Critical Role, Steven Universe

*PREFERENCES

Coke or Pepsi? Pepsi Pen or Pencil? Pen Day or Night? Night Cat or Dog? Both? Both are good. Summer or Winter? Winter T.V. or Radio? Radio Brains or Beauty? whY THE FUCK I CAN’T HAVE BOTH I say both Cup or Mug? Mug Tea or Coffee? Also both Gold or Silver? Silver, but like gold is cool too Brush or Comb? Pft neither City or Country? City Early or Late riser? Late Blond or Brunette? Brunette Scary or Romantic movies? Scary Board or Computer games? Um how dare you I need both Half full or Half empty? Depends on the day Happy and poor or Sad and rich? Happy and poor Glasses or Contacts? Glasses Flowers or Chocolates? Flowers Love or Money? Love Hugs or Kisses? UM both but like kisses if I had to choose

And now, pictures that you didn’t ask for.

[rahleeyah]

Okay okay first of all, PM me if you really don’t care about these and I’ll stop lol! Post ep thoughts on a first time viewing of “Savior”

1. Rich Girl Liv makes an appearance! She can spot a $2k purse a mile away and Elliot knows it. Now all I can think about is how he went home that night with the reminder that she lived an entirely different life before meeting him and how he sometimes feels entirely inadequate with her history and culture and he just has a million kids at home and doesn’t get to do fancy shit cause he’s tired, Kathy is tired and he never buys Kathy purses like that and Kathy never got to the point in life where she bought purses like that for herself cause someone always needed something. 💔

2. Oh man the NICU. Baby #2 spent some time in there and I had a flashback to the endless amount of hand washing (up to the elbows!) before being allowed in and how visitors are extremely limited (prob no cops allowed). Giggled about how cavalier a stay this 24 week micro preemie had with all these cop visitors. (Before anyone worries, mine was an 8lb NICU baby who tried to roll over in his little crib thing. He’s now a beast of a child who put me in traction making me carry his 40lb healthy self this weekend)

3. Lee is completely underutilized this episode and why is it so hot when he and Elliot pray together?

4. We just never hear about this baby and the medical decisions Liv makes again? Okay. 🤦🏻‍♀️

5. I desperately need a scene in S23 where it’s very apparent to Elliot that Liv is a MOM now and it just punches him in the gut and he can’t breathe. He missed it. And he should have been there. And I need a moment where Liv is so fucking smug but also angry. Smug because she knows Elliot was about to use his classic “you don’t understand you’re not a parent” line and HE CAN’T THROW THAT IN HER FACE ANYMORE, but angry because she realizes he’s always been right and being a parent is SOOOO different and changes the game and she HATES that he’s right. But she also knows that he violated parent rule #1 which is that you don’t need to throw in non-parent’s faces that it’s different because there is just no way of knowing before you KNOW. I have this scene in mind where she just unloads on him about how she always expected him to be there when she became a mom. Just yelling how when the squad chipped in for a crib and car seats and a high chair and stroller and baby bouncers she just always thought he would have been there to get some ridiculous gift because his kids loved it and he thought it would help her out. How she always imagined rolling her eyes at his unsolicited dad advice and imagined refusing to take it but then breaking down and using it and URGH sometimes he would fucking be right and it would irritate her to no end.

6. I don’t think Elliot ever really agreed with how Kathy raised the kids. Like I think there is a lot of child-rearing fights that happen in the Stabler household. Elliot thinks Kathy is too permissive and let’s the kids off too easy, and Kathy is just always so angry and irritated because if he wants an opinion he should be there more often and she’s just one person basically doing it alone.

No I love these keep em coming 🙌🙌🙌

1) oh you just gonna wreck me right out the gate with Rich Girl Liv casually recognizing class and Kathy never getting anywhere near it. Kathy, who was stripped of her opportunity for a different, maybe better life, as much if not more than Elliot. Kathy bby you deserved better.

2) oooof that's so scary fam I'm glad your little one recovered. But like yeah they're not about following protocol lmaooo

3) lmaoooo I mean. Idk but it is

4) YEAH WE JUST NEVER HEAR ABOUT THIS BABY AGAIN. "hey Olivia we know you always wanted a child and here is a vulnerable little baby entrusted to your care make a life or death decision for this child right now OR ELSE" and then. No follow up. Which. I think we all know what that means 😭

5) the fact that Elliot missed this milestone in Olivia's life will never not destroy me. He should have been there. He promised to support her and help her in any way she needed to make this dream a reality and then he left and she did it all by herself. And Elliot watching her, seeing that she is a good mom, a great mom, like he always knew she would be? Olivia confronting him about it? Oh my heart

6) that's a really interesting take and honestly I can see it. And like. Elliot loves his kids of course he does but he is damaged by his upbringing and his work and he gets so angry with them and so controlling and aggressive that I can totally see a) him thinking Kathy is too lenient and b) Kathy thinking he's an asshole who's too hard on them. And the fact that Kathy is basically doing it all by herself makes that even worse, bc not only has he put her in this position where everything is on her, when he does try to interfere and be a parent he comes very close to being a bully sometimes and I can see her being so defensive of the kids bc they deserve better than a dad who's almost never around, and is angry when he is. Kathy baby you never should have let him come back 😭 like don't get me wrong I love him and he is not a horrible dad and he is not mean to his kids every second but that temper jumps out a lot. I like to think he mellowed after he left the NYPD tho. Like. He is no longer under that pressure, and he is no longer terrified for his kids now that he's not seeing new threats against them every single day and plus they're older and moving on and he's (maybe) spending more time with Kathy and Eli than he was able to spend with the older kids when they were small.