#i also put scars on them.. wasn’t sure if they were supposed to have them or not🫣

[ahhrenata]

some steddie doodles inspired by @stevethehairington ’s super cute and amazing fic waving down the wind ✨

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy being followed

Part three? I guess, cause apparently it’s not content to stay in my head. Part One, Part Two

To say Danny was awake when he fist met these guys would be true, but to say he was fully aware would be a lie, and to live in Gotham one needed to be constantly aware.

If not, they would end up in this exact situation. Being stalked by vigilantes.

Him, Danny “Phantom” Fenton, Ghost King of the Infinite realms, was being constantly followed by a vigilante family. At least Danny assumed they were a family after hearing Red Hood call Nightwing “little brother.” (“I’m older than you.” “Yeah but you’re shorter.” “That’s not how that works!”) Also there was a child and at least three teenagers running around in spandex and armor. If they weren’t a family Danny wasn’t half-dead.

Anyway, Danny was pretty-sure they were watching him. His only guess as to why, well it started with a comment he made when slightly delirious. Because on that night when he was awake but not really, he called Batman the the fury-vigilante. In front of who the young king now realizes might be the bat’s son.

Danny understands that it might have been embarrassing but also it was just a comment and not even an original one! A lot of people called him that! And sure, not always to his face but still it could not have been his first time hearing it.

So Danny saw it as unnecessary to send out his army of (admittedly nice) children to harass Danny whenever they could. It was getting old and they always looked at him as if he was the odd one. Which he was but they didn’t know that. Like, Danny is just trying to get to where he needs to go, you people are the ones squaring up to random thugs on a school night.

Not that Danny didn’t appreciate the constant rescues, but he knew the life of a teenage vigilante and it wasn’t an easy one. Danny had a list of regrets and the scars to prove it. Hell, Baby Ninja looked younger than Danny when he first started.

In the first month of being shadowed Danny was sure he had met all of Batman’s children, either by rescue or confrontation. (How was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed near that wearhouse?) He decided that Red Robin and Signal were his favorites, they spoke to him as a fellow person. Dickwing was his least favorite. After the incident with the Fenton anti-creep stick and four creeps, Dickwing started to lecture Danny on self-preservation and “being too young to put himself in that kind of danger.” Danny had stared pointedly at Baby Ninja on the fire escape (not that Dickwing noticed.)

Danny didn’t really now what their goal was, so far outside the three a.m. gun fights, the hypocritical lectures, and Baby Ninja’s prickly nature, the Batkids weren’t so bad. Still Danny wasn’t going to tell them his name. Hello? they were following him. Yes they were vigilantes but they were also stalkers and Danny had rights.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 

You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

[anakin-skywalker-always]

I Can Feel It Calling In The Air Tonight:

Pairing: Padawan!Anakin x Vigrin!Padawan!Reader

Requested: Yes | No

(was 💕- “Just…be gentle” 🌹- First time and 🌻- “I love you.”/“say it again” in my emoji requests)

Warnings: Smut. First time cringe? Swear words? Unprotected. P in V. As always, let me know if you think there should be something listed here.

Words: 1.9k

Author’s Notes: Anakin and reader are around 19 in this :) 18+ MDNI sorry this is probably really bad and lame and short. It’s also unedited sorry!!

The air in the Temple felt thick, and muggy, like it clung to your skin. Your little, curly baby hairs stuck to the back of your neck, the humidity causing your padawan braid to come loose. Rebraiding it was on your ever growing list of things to do. It was one of the hotter summer nights on Coruscant, but you couldn’t shake the idea that this burning was simply the anxiety coursing through you. Sticking to the safety of the cool shadows, you made your way through the Jedi temple, after hours.

You and Anakin Skywalker had been…well you didn’t exactly know the word for it. You wish you could say dating, but Jedi don’t really date. It was no secret to anyone though, that the Padawan learners, they had urges. Young adults don’t change, regardless of the context you put them in it’s only natural. In the words of Anakin’s master, the two of you had been ‘fooling around’ for a little bit now. Despite the fact it was no shock to the Masters that the Padawan’s stretched the rules regarding attachment, it was the ‘getting caught’ part that mattered, blind eyes only turned so far.

That’s how you found yourself, in your thin, cotton, standard-issue pyjamas and Jedi robe, sneaking in shadow and slinking past columns of your ancient order. You hadn’t seen Anakin in weeks, himself and Master Kenobi found themselves on missions in the outer rim more often than not. Yourself, being Master Mace Windu’s Padawan, you knew your Master simply didn’t like Anakin, and you couldn’t help but to romanticise the idea of the father figure in your life barring you from seeing the boy you may like. In short, if you and Anakin wanted to see one another, you usually had to make time.

Anakin could sense your nerves as you approached his hallway, his door. Usually he would wait for your four sharp raps against the door frame, but tonight he waited patiently behind the door, ready to pull you in. He couldn’t help it. He felt possessed by you, you consumed nearly every waking thought, and destroyed his subconscious dreams. You kept him tethered to the real world, he often felt like he could disappear into the vastness of the force any minute, but with the promise of you, Anakin’s feet remained firmly planted.

You were dragged into Anakin’s bare chest and strong arms before you even raised your fist to knock. Snaking your arms around his waist, the contact wasn’t doing much for the uncomfortable heat. As Anakin found his metal hand wrapped into your hair, kissing your hairline, dragging his flesh fingers down your spine, he realised just how much he had missed you while he was off-world.

“Hello.” You whispered into the night, mumbled by Anakin’s skin. He heard you, nonetheless.

“Hello.” Anakin always managed to sound sure of himself, you didn’t understand how he was always so even in tone. You knew other padawans called him whiny when you were younger, but you had never seen this whiny, baby side that your lover supposedly had.

War, you supposed, ages people.

You started: “I really missed you this time-” Just as Anakin managed to get out:

“Gods, I missed you, you have no idea-”

His metal hand gently grasps your chin, directing your eyes up to his own. You couldn’t help but giggle, his smirk, the little dimple, his shiny eyes, fresh scars. He was beautiful.

Despite it all, Anakin’s lips were soft, warm, inviting. The humidity has chapped yours, but in the process made them more sensitive. You could’ve sworn that you felt every nerve fire through that kiss.

Never breaking the kiss, Anakin walked you backwards, your knees hitting his bed.

For the first time in a long while, Anakin felt scared. It was in the air tonight, how badly the two of you wanted each other. And now, here you were, laid flat on his bed, looking expectantly up at him, the city lights filtering through his blinds, refracting across your face.

“Why so nervous Skywalker?” You quipped, your voice no louder than a whisper. You quirked an eyebrow, and Anakin’s flesh hand found the back of his neck, scratching nervously. Anakin could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, branding his nervousness as tangible. “I thought you said you’ve done this before.” Anakin knew you were poking fun at him to try and aid his anxiety, making a serious thing not feel so serious.

And yes, it was true. Padmé, Naboo, guard duty. It was fun, Anakin learnt a lot. But with you it’s just different, there are other emotions in play, more attachment. And of that, he had to admit he was scared.

You could see the apprehension in Anakin’s face, it was kind of hilarious really. You were the virgin in this scenario, already slick with want for him, and an eagerness to boot. Leaning up to capture his lips in a soft, gentle, innocent kiss, you whispered: “Just…be gentle.” And with that, Anakin got to work.

With your legs hanging over his bed, Anakin knelt on the floor, face to face with your clothed core. Gingerly, his fingertips grazed over the waistband of your grey pants, your shirt sneaking further up your chest, displaying the sliver of sensitive, goosebump-riddled skin. Before going any further, Anakin looked up, his brilliant blue eyes of fire meeting your own.

“Are you sure?” This was Anakin’s final probe for consent, he had to know you felt comfortable, felt safe with him. He knew most people his age didn’t really see having sex as a big thing, it wasn’t so serious, it was normal. But not to Anakin. Sex, something so primal, so ancient, with so many intricacies and vulnerabilities, it should be treated with respect.

Anakin couldn’t live with himself if you thought he didn’t respect you.

You loved Anakin- not that you’ve ever said this aloud to him - and his carefulness when it came to you.

“Yes, Anakin.” You huffed, squirming in anticipation.

He needed no further convincing, quickly ridding you of your standard issue pants and plain panties.

Spreading your legs open with a firmness you weren’t unfamiliar with, Anakin kept a strong grip on the inner, tender skin of your thighs as he started devouring your already sopping cunt.

Anakin loved eating you out, it was divine. His tongue launched through your folds, he sucked and nibbled on your throbbing, hot core. The lewd sounds only spurring him on more. This wasn’t Anakin’s first time eating you out, but the soft mewls that sprang from your mouth felt different this time. Anakin’s cold, metal fingers found their way to your clit, you hissed from the contact.

Anakin could feel your orgasm building from the slight tremble reverberating onto his mouth. His own cock was fully hard and painfully constricted by his grey, cotton pants. He knew that his precum was probably leaving a wet patch, a stain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Oh,” you cried, back arching as Anakin’s mouth kept working on your core. “Anakin, Anakin please-“ you begged. You didn’t know what you begged him for. His cock, to let you come, as thanks? It didn’t matter though as your first orgasm tore right through you, flashes of white hot light felt like they were being torn out of you. Anakin happily feasted on your slick, his chest heaving with yours in unison.

Pulling away from your core, the humid air set your body alight, as Anakin quickly rid himself of his pants. Spitting on his hand with some of your leftover orgasm, he pumped himself a few times, his red tip leaky and sensitive. Anakin could’ve easily cum then and there, watching you come to from your fucked out state, hair spread out on the bed like a halo, beautiful strong legs shaking slightly.

You missed his closeness, eagerly propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch Anakin stroking his huge member. You couldn’t help but flush a bright pink at the sight of it. You knew logically it had to fit, but you weren’t quite sure how. And, maybe it was egotistical of you, but you felt ravenous at the idea of the Chosen One’s dick being hard at the sight of yourself. You were the one to get Skywalker the Hero hot and bothered.

It was the greatest victory you had ever scored.

Anakin crawled himself between your outstretched legs, lining his hard member up to your slick and weepy hole. He looked at your shiny, beautiful eyes once more, just once more to confirm that you were happy, comfortable.

The softness in your round eyes, and your genuine smile was enough for him.

He thrusted his tip in gently, just enough for you to adjust. Anakin could’ve cum on the spot, again, from the rolling of your gorgeous eyes back into your pretty little head. Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he needed to move.

“Sweetheart can I move?” Anakin asks softly, moving his mouth to the sensitive part of your neck, just under your ear. Nibbling and kissing downwards in a fiery path.

“Oh, please Anakin I need more I need you-“ You were vaguely aware of your rambling but you didn’t care, rolling your hips up to meet his, coercing him and his cock to fill you completely.

Filling you to the hilt, Anakin couldn’t help but moan into your neck. Your velveteen walls were heaven sent. Anakin’s low moaning as he pumped in and out of you at a slow, deep pace was incomprehensible. You couldn’t help but to moan yourself, stringing curses and his name along with it.

“Faster Anakin.” You begged him, your hands finding his muscular back, all sinew and tone. You scratched up and down the length of his spine.

This set Anakin alight, picking up the pace and fucking you like an animal. He could’ve sworn he felt every feathering motion, as you constricted around him.

“Ani- I’m - ah, oh - Anakin I’m going to cum.” Your confession was innocent enough, but Anakin looked away from your contorted, beautiful face and looked to where your bodies joined. He saw your precious cream for the second time that night. But this time it spilt out around the base of his cock, getting caught in his curly, dark hair.

Something snapped in Anakin then, fucking you further, harder, at an unrelenting pace through your orgasm. Until he felt his balls tightening. He knew he was close.

Grunting, he asked: “I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it Sweetheart?”

The simple question bought tears of pleasure to your eyes, your back arching, one of your hands wrapped around Anakin’s padawan braid, pulling his ear to your mouth.

“Inside, oh please cum inside me Ani.”

That was all Anakin needed to release. Thick ropes of hot come shot through you, as he left his cock inside, slowly fucking his cum into you.

With his cock still inside, Anakin lent over you, face to face. The two of you focusing on each others force signature, calming your erratic breathing.

Maybe it was the thrill of the night, but you felt possessed by a happier version of your normal self.

“I love you.” The admission was so quiet, Anakin wasn’t sure he even heard you. To be fair, you didn’t even know if you spoke it.

“Say it again.” Anakin begged, stroking your stuck hair away from your sweaty face.

“I love you Anakin Skywalker.”

“And I love you.”

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite: Blitzø

ft Loona doodles :) Alright first off sorry this took so long i got a job lol

A large part of his character is the fact that he used to be a clown, so I took a bit of two face in this design and accentuated the scarring on the left side of his face. I decided to give him the circular cheek bits to allude to the clown as well as ruffling his collar under the clothes. He’s the most complex design of the IMP so far, aside from Loona’s multiple spots, so i tried to keep the colors simple but distinct from M&M. I took the spikes and put them on his clothes – as in he puts on thorns to keep people away. I think a pink tone suits his more lusty character. 

Now as for his character... I'll be honest I struggled with him for a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted his character to go or how serious this rewrite would take the drama Viv wants to write. I adore writing deep characters, so I suppose I’m going to have to take The Office’s approach of being a comedy with moving parts. There are overarching plot lines in this version, that being Moxxie’s mafia ties coming back to haunt him, Blitzo’s past coming back to fuck him over in the form of everything about him, and Millie’s insecurities fucking her over when it counts. Maybe the series underlying theme is how running from your problems doesn’t work. Idk, because I also like the whole monster of the week type assassin gigs they do. I’ll make it work. 

So now, introducing the new and improved Blitzø! 

Blitzø is a mixed imp, his father being from Greed and his mother being from Lust. As such he’s a very poor mix of bad traits. He’s hypersexual (to the point of disturbing others), greedy as fuck (as he underpays Millie and Moxxie), is greatly attached to and possessive of those he likes (hence his smothering of Loona and stalking of M&M), and tends to think with his dick in most situations which get him into quite a few pickles (hehe pickle) 

Alright, so personality wise he is just about the same. He shits on others, is generally an ass and not very shy about it, but one thing I want to change is his delivery. This Blitzø is much more jovial about what he’s doing, putting on an act of being very charming and playful, even when he insults people. Ex, the line in the pilot when he mentions Moxxie crushing his dreams would include a very childish pout and a chuckle after. He plays the things he says off as jokes so it gives him an air of... idk like you don’t know when he’s ever being serious. 

He grew up in a circus in Greed along with his twin sister Barbie Wire (side note if Blitzo was my og creation he would have a pun/type name like Barbie does. Too tired to come up with one now, but mainly just because Barbie Wire is a much more creative name than fucking Blitzo) and his mother, who was dying day by day. His father was the ring leader and used his children as props to make money. Blitzo was a double act with Barbie Wire where they would do tricks on trained horses before Barbie started wanting to do trapeze and Blitzo was paired with Fizz instead to do acrobatics and tell jokes. 

Now since we don’t know what the fuck happened in Blitzo’s past (despite being on fucking season 2) I’m going to leave this bit open ended until Viv plays her cards then rewrite it into my story.  

So overall I’m not tweaking too much with Blitzo. Maybe instead of being a woobie who is like oh woe is me I suck he is just an overt asshole who sort of wants to be better but that’s too much work.  

His relationship with Stolas is a can of worms and I fucking hate worms. Alright, so we’re scrapping the childhood buddies thing, and going full force into what we all were shown in the pilot – this powerful demon is banging Blitzo in exchange for the Grimoire. Now real quick, why doesn’t Blitzo use Asmodean crystals? In this I'm making it so only lust demons can bond with crystals (bonding meaning only that demon can use them) and unbound crystals can’t leave Lust. So Blitzo would have to go to Lust and buy one, which is expensive as fuck and he was too broke at the time he struck the deal with Stolas. He’s planning on ditching Stolas as soon as he has enough cash to buy a crystal for IMP to use. 

So Stolas and Blitzo are both using each other, neither of them are like “omg I think he likes me”. Stolas wants sex to fuel his imp fetish and Blitzo wants the book. Blitzo has every intention of cutting this off as soon as he gets the crystal, and in his mind is only really indulging some rich brat demon. The issue comes when Blitzo finds himself actually liking Stolas – he likes the owl’s stupid spiels about literature and space and herbs, he likes that Stolas tells him helpful things with no prompting (like how certain herbs can treat injuries and things like that), and he finds himself liking Stolas’s company. Which is a big problem if he wants to cut the demon off, so he starts trying to get that in gear. This is also while being constantly reminded how unlovable he is and how he ruins everything he touches, but he’s conflicted because Stolas has started to treat him kindly and refer to him like an acquaintance rather than a sex toy. 

Any I'm tired af, going to bed. 

Oh, but before I go I just want to say that now that I’ve finished the IMP gang, I’m taking a minor break from reworking Helluva and will be posting some RWBY redesigns I’ve made because I fucking hate RWBY but at the same time it’s like my childhood. I’ll tag anything Rwby I'm doing as Rwby Rework if you’re interested, but don’t worry I’ll continue to do more viv/helluva/hazbin later this month! 

Thanks for reading <3

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic March 22 – prompt 22: Impervius – word count 909

Impervius - Makes an object waterproof

Sirius wasn’t mad McGonagall had caught him charming her classroom ceiling to start raining and had given him detention. No, Sirius was mad Remus had been assigned to supervise him as he stopped the spell and dried the whole classroom without magic. Lately, Remus had been acting weird towards him, and he thought he knew why. After his friends had found out about the scars he had on his legs thanks to Walburga’s favourite Slicing curse he had been a bit more open about his family. Safely guided by James (and more often than not also safely tucked in James’s arms) he had started to tell the other Marauders bits and pieces about the house he had grown up in. About his parents’ rigid discipline. About the Black family motto, Toujours Pur. About the Sacred Twenty-eight and his parents’ belief that anyone outside of that circle wasn’t worth even existing. He suspected that had caused Remus to mostly avoid eye contact with him, exit a room as soon as it ended up just being the two of them, and almost jumping away whenever they accidentally touched. He supposed it was difficult adjusting to the idea one of your friends had parents who thought you were an abomination, but he had always been careful to make it very clear he didn’t support any of his parents’ beliefs. Even what he couldn’t control, he used to say, had turned out against his family values. His being sorted into Gryffindor was the most obvious and the fact he liked men was the most hilarious since he kept flirting with each one of his friends claiming out loud it was payback for the way he had been raised. He had had to stop that too, since Remus had looked uncomfortable about it.

“You’ve outdone yourself, really,” Remus said, shielding his head from the rain pouring from the ceiling. “I’ve rarely seen McGonagall so angry.”

“I know,” Sirius smirked, before pointing his wand at Remus’s bag. “Impervius! Wouldn’t want your precious books to get soaked, Moony.”

“Thanks,” Remus nodded, leaning on a desk nearby. “You should really stop the spell before it gets worse, though.”

“You know it’s not my fault, right?”

Sirius bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say that, he just wanted to get detention over as quickly as possible and maybe slip into James’s bed later on and ask him what he could do to make sure Remus knew he was safe with him, he would always be safe with him.

“I’m pretty sure the classroom being flooded is, Pads.”

“No, I mean… Finite incantatem!” Sirius said. If they were going to have this conversation, at least they wouldn’t be in the pouring rain. “I mean about my parents.”

“What?”

“Their ideas about ‘blood purity’ and all that bullshit. It’s what they think, not me.”

“I know that, Pads.”

Sirius looked at Remus, who was looking back at him with a puzzled expression.

“You don’t… You don’t think I have the same ideas?”

Remus stared at him, eyes wide.

“We’ve been friends for years and I know how horrible your family is. Why would I think that?”

“It’s just…” Sirius hesitated. “You’ve been distant lately and I thought…”

He was expecting Remus to deny it, but instead he looked away from him.

“Yeah, like that,” Sirius sighed. “If it’s not my family, what is it Moony? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Remus was still not looking at him.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just something about me and it’s nothing, really.”

“It clearly isn’t, you’re not even able to look me in the eye!”

Sirius walked up to Remus, stopping only when he was almost up against him. He hesitated a fraction of second, but Remus was still looking away, so he reached up and put his hand on his cheek, gently but firmly turning his head.

“What is it? Please, Moony, tell me,” he whispered.

He had never looked that close at Remus’s eyes. That warm brown with somehow hues of gold in them. Gorgeous, but Remus was a marvel of a person, in and out, even if he scoffed every time someone mentioned it. Remus blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering for a second, before he suddenly moved forward, crushing their mouths together. It was over in seconds, the feel of Remus’s lips on his, the way his heart skipped a beat, the sound at the back of his throat, before Remus abruptly pulled back.

“Shit, sorry, Sirius, I’m sorry,” he had turned bright red. “I know you don’t…”

“I don’t what?” Sirius said, trying to find words in the sea of no please kiss me again his brain was screaming.

“Me. Don’t like me. Not that way,” Remus grimaced. “James is going to kill me.”

“What does Prongs have to do with this?” Sirius asked, lost.

“Well, I mean… You…” Remus gestured vaguely.

“Me and James?”

“I mean, you’re always in each other’s beds,” Remus said, defensively.

“Yes, to talk and plan, not to make out!” Sirius roared with laughter. “And I’m not his type anyway, you know he likes them mean.”

“I… And what’s your type then?”

Sirius considered it for a minute, still standing so close to Remus, still with his friend a deep shade of red.

“Confused, apparently,” he sighed, before leaning in and kissing Remus again.

[hellfireclubmember]

ok so i have a request if that’s cool.

so steve harrington x reader where the reader has scars/stretch marks and is insecure about them and doesn’t want steve to see them? maybe like hurt/comfort.

thank u🤍🤍

*okay, so sorry this took so long. just a quick warning this is the first time i've written anything that wasn’t just supposed to be fluff so pls have mercy on me <3 oh and this turned out to b a lot longer than i thought it would be*

It was summer in Hawkins, Indiana. The season of trying to keep cool by any means. Which usually meant spending most days at the town pool. Steve wasn’t keen on cramming into a pool full of preteens and their parents, which is lucky for him considering the pool in his backyard. However, he had concocted a plan to spend his weekend with you and his friends at his family’s lake house. He now just had to convince you to come which was proving to be quite difficult. Everyone else was fully on board, eager to cool off and relax for a change. He didn’t plan on his girlfriend being the one fully against the idea, honestly his money was on Max being the most difficult to convince.

“Baby, come on. For once my plan is perfect.” He was sitting on your bed begging you to reconsider. “We barely spend anytime relaxing together. Its either we’re fighting disgusting monsters or we’re both busy working.” He tugged on your hand so you would turn to look at him.

Your willpower was crumbling. Saying no to Steve made you feel horrible but thinking of saying yes made your chest tighten. Spending the weekend at the lake with everyone sounded like a dream but that also meant having to wear less clothes than you’re really comfortable wearing.

You had known everyone for a really long time but you had officially been dating Steve for about 2 months. You had loved him for way more than that and now that you were together you didn’t want anything to ruin your relationship with him. Which meant keeping him at arm’s length about some things, things you had convinced yourself would make you undesirable to him.

“I’ll get on my knees right now.” He had your face in between both his hands now. “Please don’t make me but I swear I’ll do it if you ask.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the worst.” The grin on your face too wide for anyone to think you were being serious.

“You love me though, which is why you’re gonna say yes?” He said, waiting for you to cave and caving you were. There was really no point in continuing to say no to him. You both knew he was going to get what he wanted, he usually did.

You let out a sigh. “Fine, Steve. I’ll go” He immediately planted a hard kiss on your lips.

“You’re the best, baby. I swear you’ll have fun.” He kissed your forehead, then your nose and then your lips again. “If you don’t, we can hide all of Henderson’s clothes so he spends all weekend scavenger hunting.”  

You had said yes but that didn’t mean having to actually get into the lake. There was no way he could convince you of jumping into the lake. You would put your foot down this time for sure. You were steeling yourself; no amount of begging could sway you on this.

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

“Steve, no. I’ll watch you from here, okay? I don’t want to get in the water.” You were sat on the dock behind the house. The sky was almost unnaturally clear, the sun beaming down at all of you as if angry with the Earth. There was a slight summer breeze making its way around everyone but nothing strong enough to keep anyone from sweating. Ultimately an ideal day to be exactly where you were. Dustin, Mike and Robin were splashing each other in the water whilst Max and Lucas were inside getting food. Your very annoying boyfriend standing in front of you, beautiful hairy chest on display, hands on his hips.

“But it’s so hot, you have to be melting by now.” He had been bugging you about this since you guys got out of the car.

“(Y/N), c’mon! When do we ever have free time where we’re not knocking on death’s door?” Robin yelled from inside the water.

“Yeah! Who knows how long we have before the next slimy freak emerges from the Earth to try and kill everyone?” Lucas said as he walked past you getting ready to dive in. Max walked behind him with a bag of chips in her hands, agreeing to Lucas’ statement.  

They’re right and you know they’re right. Maybe you could push past your insecurities just this once, let go and have fun. You looked up at Steve’s hopeful face again, reaching for his hand and playing with his fingers.

“You really want me to go in with you?”

Steve squatted down to be at eye level with you. Sometimes when he looked at you this closely he was overwhelmed with how beautiful one person could be. He thought himself the luckiest person in the world. “More than anything.”

You nodded, again giving in to your boyfriend’s every whim and got up to go change. Everyone cheered as you walked inside the house, you lifted your hand in the air, middle finger extended.

“I’ll wait for you right here!” Steve yelled out after you.

In the bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your body clad in your bathing suit. This was what you were dreading about this trip. Truth is you wanted to avoid Steve seeing the stretch marks that littered your skin on the sides of your lower half. The indented stripes of skin being the only thing your eyes could see when you looked in the mirror and you were terrified of that being the same for Steve, terrified he wouldn’t want you anymore.

You could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. You couldn’t do this; you couldn’t go out there like this. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you slid down to sit on the bathroom floor. You felt pathetic, silently crying in the bathroom whilst everyone was outside having a blast.

You didn’t notice how long you had been in there but Steve definitely did. He was starting to get worried so he got up from his seat and walked over to the bathroom, knocking softly. “Babe, are you okay?”

Hearing his voice made you snap your gaze to the locked door. You wiped the tears on your face and tried to sound as normal as possible. If Steve knew you were crying then he would definitely find a way into the bathroom

“Yeah, I’m okay.” As you said that a small involuntary sob escaped you, making your eyes widen.

“Are you crying?” Oh no, oh no, oh no. You heard the doorknob jiggle as Steve attempted to get in. “Sweetheart can you let me in please?”

You looked around the bathroom, eyes landing on someone’s towel near the shower. Quickly unhooking it and wrapping it around your hips. The skin on your lips felt dry as you took a deep breath in, an effort to prepare yourself to face your boyfriend. When you opened the door you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve. He was leaning on the door frame, concern written all over his face as he examined yours.

“You were crying.” His eyebrows furrowed. He walked into the bathroom with you and closed the door behind him. Steve’s arms immediately wrapping around your body in a tight hug. “Why were you crying?” He spoke into your hair.

The second the words left his lips fresh tears began streaming down your face. Steve rubbed small circles on your back, giving you time to just cry in his arms. Every few minutes he would whisper “I love you” in your ear. You both stayed in that position until he heard your breathing start to even out. Steve pulled away wanting to look you in the eyes. You tried looking at everything else but him. Making Steve lean everywhere your eyes went. When you finally quit trying to evade him and made eye contact, he gave you a comforting smile.

“Can you tell me what made you this upset?” He was holding your hand as he spoke, rubbing your knuckles gently with his thumb. You almost started crying again just looking at him, his perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect skin.

“Stevie, I just” You breathed in slowly to keep any tears at bay. “I just love you so much.”

“That’s no reason to cry.” His voice was soft, his words coated with care.

“You’re so perfect and I want to be perfect for you too.” Sniffle. “And I’m not, I’m just not.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, opting to look at the floor instead.

Steve was so confused. He couldn’t think of any reason why you would say that. When he looked at you sometimes he had to physically pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming you up. To him you were as perfect as any person could be. He adored you. “Why would do you think that?”

“Because it’s true, Steve. I’m not pretty enough to be with you, I’m covered in stretch marks, and you’re perfect.” A few more tears slipped from your eyes but you quickly wiped them off. If you started crying again you don’t know when you would stop.

Steve finally understood why you were so against this trip and why you were so adamant about not getting in the water. “Baby, look at me.” He lifted your head up so you could look him in the eye again. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. Seriously, you’re a knockout, a ten, a fox.” He saw a whisper of a smile on your face as he kept talking. “I’m serious. If I could worship your body all day I would.” His eyes roamed every inch of your face. He leaned in and gave you quick kiss. “You don’t have to get into the water, I’ll sit with you inside or outside or wherever you want. I just want to spend time with you because you’re my favorite person.” You fully smiled now, hearing him speak sticky sweet words with his whole chest. You loved Steve Harrington, he loved you and that was enough.

You shook your head. “I’ll get in.” You hesitated before taking the towel off. Steve took a few steps back to look at you. You held your breath as you watched his eyes scan your body.

The tall boy was momentarily at a loss for words, which for Steve was a first. He couldn’t believe you could be so insecure when you looked like this. “(y/n)” he put his hand on your hip. “You’re so hot.”

“Yeah?” You beamed up at him.

“Hell yeah.” He caught your lips in a needy kiss. “Maybe we should spend some time inside first?” Steve spoke with a lazy smirk on his face.

You laughed. “Tempting but we’re on duty, Stevie. Always the babysitters.”

[ouabhs]

acftl review (finally)

I give it a 3 ⭐️ (as much as it pains me) even then it’s only this high bc I love evajacks so much

so I was finally able to gather my thoughts into one post and while there were many things I enjoyed a few others didn’t sit right..

1. the whole story curse thing.. it makes sense that the story curse would twist things which is why some things were left unexplained but it doesn’t feel like it was done deliberately?? it just felt like stephanie genuinely didn’t know how to tie some things together.. like sure not every single thing needs an explanation but she emphasised certain things wayyy too much in the first two books for them to be completely ignored for example evajacks talking to each other in their minds. Even the broken heart scar wasn’t addressed again after like halfway through acftl

2. too much apollo.. sorry this is not even just me being biased or whatever like I do agree his pov helped explain the plot from a different perspective but he got wayyy more of a backstory and a conclusion to his character than jacks for a someone that wasn’t as present in the last 2 books.. and this was supposed to be jacks’ series kinda (ik it was evangelines too) but I feel like jacks got sidelined hard and that’s disappointing. It also didn’t help that whenever there was an intense scene between evajacks the pov would switch to apollo.. to be fair I think having 3 povs was just hard to execute in general

3. the kiss scene.. usually it would not be a big deal but it’s a big part of jacks character that he can’t kiss girls without killing them idk I thought him finally getting to kiss evangeline would be a lot more… grand? they barely got a page or any detail and then the next chapter was “once upon a time there was kissing and more kissing 🥰🥰” which was even more underwhelming. Even apollo and evangelines kiss scenes were longer and more detailed and they got multiple

4. the overall vibe of the 3rd book felt very different to the first two I couldn’t put my finger on it at first but I feel like it had something to do with the writing.. at some parts it felt familiar (like all the descriptions and the fairytale aspects) but others it just felt different?

5. during too many scenes it just felt like stephanie was rewriting tbona.. like I haven’t really seen anyone say this yet but a good chunk of the book was quotes from tbona which I feel took up a lot of unnecessary space and could’ve been used to develop other plots or characters? Literally someone that hasn’t read tbona could get a gist of what happened cause it’s all summarised in there 😭

6. the plot in general.. contrary to popular belief I don’t think this was that romance focused (as people claim as to why things weren’t explained) because I think stephanie incorporated more plot in here but it was just different to what we saw in the last books because previous characters (luc, marisol, tiberius, kristof) weren’t as present in this book and new characters plots and explanations were just thrown in.. not much felt connected

7. jacks’ backstory.. (going back to my second point) how he became a fate was really glossed over I feel and was only briefly mentioned but I just wanted more.. I do like the fact that he said he did it for chaos and I wish their friendship was delved into more because he literally turned to immortality because his friend would be alone. What about his parents? His friendship with Lyric? The merrywood three in general? His life when he was trapped in the card?

8. the first fox.. again wayy too significant to be missed out especially since jacks doesn’t really remember whether or not he had a thing for her and chaos said evangeline was similar to her.. how was there no link?

I definitely have more to add but for now my main takeaway is that while tbona was very hard to top I feel like acftl could’ve been so much more especially since it was set up so well.. I think so many people are disappointed because it doesn’t hold up as well for the last book in a series but I’m just glad evajacks got their happy ending 🫠

[aprocessionofthoughts]

You're like me

ai-less whumptober 2023 day 9- scar reveal fandom- Danny phantom x batman TW- blood, dissection, nothing graphic summary- The pit has been feeling strange lately. Then Jason hears a sound from the apartment next door. An apartment that's supposed to be empty.

ao3 ai-less whumptober2023 masterlist part 1 of DLM

Jason was glad when the end of patrol came along. He had been on edge since this morning, though he hadn’t been able to pinpoint why. He had checked up on all his business ventures and looked into gang activity, but everything seemed normal. 

The worst thing was that the Pit had felt like it was stirring. It was weird though. Usually when the Pit stirred Jason felt angry, but this just left him feeling as if there was something he needed to do. Or maybe it was a warning? He wasn’t sure. 

So, he was glad to be heading back to his safehouse where he would be able to bake some cookies and sit back with a good book in order to destress. 

The cookies had just come out of the oven and he was reading while he waited for them to cool. He wasn't a heathen like certain older brothers who burned their tongues because they ate the cookies right out of the oven.

Then Jason heard a thump and a quiet curse from the apartment next door. The apartment that was supposed to be empty. The apartment that should be empty because Jason rented the apartments to either side of his so they wouldn't hear him coming back from vigilantism. 

Quietly, Jason stood and grabbed his nearest gun. He quietly exited his apartment and walked to the neighboring door. The apartment had furniture so he could barge in and claim whoever was there was trespassing, but he kept quiet. There wasn’t a good reason why someone would be in his apartment. There wasn’t anything to steal. Either it was an unlucky thief or someone who knew that Jason lived next door.

He quietly unlocked the door then slammed it open and pointed his gun into the room. Then he froze.

That was a kid. A kid was sitting on the floor staring at him with wide eyes.

And then Jason registreed the blood.

He holstreed his gun and put his hands up. “Hey, kid. Mind telling me what you’re doing in my apartment?”

The kid didn’t say anything. “Do you need some help with that?” Jason gestured to the bloody towel the kid was holding to his stomach.

“No! I’m good! So, sorry to be in your haunt. I’ll leave now.” The kid made to stand up but his legs gave out on him.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. That looks like a nasty wound and I’ve got a first aid kit. And if you let me help you, I’ll also give you something to eat.” Jason tried to project an air of calm and safety and he felt the pit stir, but it didn’t feel angry. It felt comforting? Whatever. He’d deal with that later. Right now he had a hurt, scared kid he needed to help.

“I’ll take the first aid kit. But I can do it myself.”

Jason raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Okay, it’s in the bathroom so I’ll be right back.” he walked quickly to the bathroom fearing that if he took to long the kid would leave.

By the time he got back the kid was leaning against the couch his eyes half closed.

“I got the kit.” Jason said as he set it close to the kid. 

As the kid reached to take it Jason asked, “What can I call you instead of kid?”

The kid frowned but shifted to stare at him. It was honestly kind of unnerving and Jason did his best to project calm, after a few seconds the kid seemed to relax.

“Danny.”

“Nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Jason.”

Danny gave a slight smile that looked more like a grimace then opened the first aid kit. Jason watched as he took out a needle and tried to thread it but his hands were shaking so badly he was having trouble.

“Shoot.” Danny said as the needle slipped from his fingers.

“Here, let me.” Jason said as he slowly reached out to take the needle and thread. Danny watched him closely but didn’t say anything. After he threaded the needle he turned to look at Danny. “It would probably be easier if I did the stitches. It would be bad if your finger slipped and you poked the wrong part or threaded the needle wrong. I promise I’ll be careful.”

DAnny stared at him long enough that Jason thought he was going to refuse. Then said, “It’s not a normal injury.”

Jason smirked. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve seen plenty of injuries. I am a Gothamite.”

Danny frowned at him for a moment before sighing and turning away as he lifted his shirt up.

The pit roared inside Jason.

The bleeding was coming from a gash in the kid’s side where it looked like he’d been stabbed. But there was also…

That was…

That was a dissection scar.

.............

AN- I plan to continue this but it probably won’t be until after October because I want to focus on completing the challenges I'm participating in.

[royal-they]

You know the whole hunter having scars on his hand’s theory was an interesting bit. As much as I enjoyed that theory, I feel like the symbolism behind Hunter’s hands in general is just as interesting. 

When we are properly introduced to the Golden Guard in Separate Tides - I know he’s technically in the finale of season one but whatever - we have no clue what he looks like beyond this version of him. He’s confident, bold, and incredibly dangerous. And as much as I enjoy the Golden Guard this version of Hunter it feels like there isn’t a lot to him at this point. We don’t know a lot about him, we don’t even know what he looks like. 

Then Hunting Palisman comes along, 

(I picked this screenshot because it amuses me greatly lol) To me this is Hunters actual introduction. We learn a lot about him, and most importantly that there’s clearly a lot more than what meets the eye. The reveal of his face is completely involuntary, and it throws him off his game a lot in my opinion. (haha throws like throws him off the ship- excuse me, my humor is bad ignore me)

His power at this time is heavily reliant on his persona, the Golden Guard. His age is a big part of this it seems. People aren’t taking him as seriously anymore, not even Luz if we’re being quite honest. He’s just some grumpy kid, and Luz is a huge empath and starts to understand him more and in turn we also get to. 

It doesn’t feel like a huge coincidence that when his face is shown we get to see more of him as a person as well. 

But there’s another detail about this scene that sticks out to me personally, 

Hunter just shows his wrist. Now this could very well be because his sigil is on his wrist, but it also feels very purposeful. Like nobody's supposed to see his hands. 

Hands are very telling of a lot of things. Hands are quite sensitive, hands are quite expressive, and hands can - in my opinion - tell you a lot about someone. 

Yet throughout this whole episode Hunter is quite resistant to show any part of himself other than the Golden Guard. 

But there's a clear shift when Hunter tells Luz his name. He stops threatening her, and he pulls down his mask. This time by choice. He wants to open up to her, at least a little. And this is the start of Hunters redemption in my mind.

When he starts to let down his guard. However, 

Kikimora strikes him right after he opens up.

Hunter pulls the mask right back up though. Which, wasn’t really needed? Like you could argue that it was so she wouldn’t recognize him, but she literally says, who’s there. So, it feels like the only reason he did that is because it makes him feel safe, it’s a security tool of sorts. Which makes a lot of sense, he’s a child soldier of course he feels a lack of security.

Their a lot more open with this message in Thanks to Them, 

He acts so much like the Golden Guard throughout this. He’s trying to come across as dangerous, which okay how the hell are you going to fight Belos with a rake in crocs but whatever. 

The symbolism of what the mask means to him is made quite clear. As I said before, it makes him feel secure. He’s not as reliant on it anymore, but in the moment it does make him feel better. Confident and sure of himself as Hunter seems to put it. 

Now I know, I said I going to talk about his hands and I haven’t really and I’m sorry, I’m getting there. 

One of the most pivotal parts of Hunters arc is arguably Any Sport in a Storm, it’s when he finally smiles and he’s a lot more trusting and happier. His pose is very showing of that, throughout this episode he never hides his face and in this shot he holds out his hands. 

His stance is open and welcoming because he genuinely feels that these other kids are people he can trust. He hasn’t had that up to this point other than with Flapjack. 

The way he says “I’m your friend now.” is really interesting to me. In his mind he wasn’t their friend before, they were friends with Caleb not Hunter. Which, he’s not completely wrong, he was hiding a lot. However, he was still Hunter. His personality wasn’t any different. But Hunter doesn’t really know how relationships work, he views his relationships only existing if he’s giving the other person something. In this case, it’s a job. Now their friends, because now he’s contributed something. The others don’t view it this way at all though, because it’s not supposed to be this way, 

This is a line that I feel was incredibly important. Hunter isn’t aware this is the case and even after he denies it. But Gus probably more than anyone knows this is true and I think that’s what makes Labyrinth Runners work so well. They both understand what it’s like to be as Gus puts it, stabbed in the back. (Also just like, Wittebros foreshadowing lmao)

Gus gets what Hunter been through. The things he’s dealt with are on a much smaller scale next to Hunter’s but it doesn’t take way from them. It makes perfect sense that they’re able to connect like this. That their able to later on be open with each other. 

All right lets tie all this together and bring it back to his hands cuz I’ve been getting way to excited about all these other things I keep mentioning and then I want to talk about them for way to long, 

The first time we see Hunters hands is in Thanks to Them. He’s a lot happier throughout this episode and much friendlier and more open with his friends. Of which he now has! (Other than Flapjack of course) 

Every single time, every single fucking time Hunter gets to comfortable it feels like someone rips the rug out from under him. And every single time he goes back to closing himself off from everyone. 

This is made apparently clear in For the Future, 

Hunter finally gets it in this episode. I’ve mentioned before that he’s telling everything he’s telling Willow to himself as well as her before: https://at.tumblr.com/royal-they/royal-they-i-feel-like-a-lot-of-people-misread/oyirnb6vph5u 

I feel like this is important because while this is a very Willow centric episode - well also a Luz centric episode but like that’s not relevant - Hunter also has a lot of growth in this episode. 

The fact that he literally links fingers with Willow and is actually open with his feelings to her and Gus is very telling. That’s the true symbolism of his hands, they’re not just the troubles he’s faced in the past. They’re a symbol of him, his growth, his relationships. They’re not a sign of Belo’s abuse towards him, he’s not held back by it. He’s his own person, and he’s not going to hide that anymore. 

That’s too me, why Hunters hands not having scars is actually super important. 

(note: this doesn’t mean those who want to interpret him as having scars are discounting any of his character development or saying he’s not his own person separate from his trauma. im just saying that i think his hands not having scars has just as must symbolism, if not more then his hands having scars.)

[dmwrites]

Out in the ocean, there are many kinds of fish. Martyn and Scott, the self-named Mean Gills, took to spending their evenings on the Limited Life server pointing out new fish that swam in their waters. If wasn’t the most efficient use of their ever-decreasing life time, but it was enjoyable. The ocean was a mysterious place, and their little island base was prime for making new tropical discoveries. But sometimes, the discoveries found them first.

At first, it was just some food missing out of chests. Scott blamed Martyn, naturally, and Martyn blamed everyone else, but at the end of the day, the Bad Boys’ bread bridge existed for a reason, and that reason was to stead wheat off it it, so it wasn’t really that big of an issue. But then it was weird sounds- both Martyn and Scott kept hearing an odd humming noise, like someone was attempting to sing a song they didn’t know. There were also strange flashes of bioluminescence at night sometimes, which wove itself around coral deep down before vanishing completely. It was odd, but the Mean Gills mostly dismissed it all. Too much going on on the surface to really worry about what the ocean held.

Or so they thought.

It was Scott who saw him first- a dark head of hair and piercing blue eyes watching him as he planted some seeds one afternoon. Scott let out a yelp and scrambled for his bow.

“What’s up?” Martyn asked in concern, jumping down from his hourglass, sword raised.

By the time Scott had his bow in hand, the head was gone. Scott sighed crossly. “I swear I just saw someone with dark brown hair watching me.”

“Dark brown hair… who on earth could that be… Bdubs?” Martyn asked.

“No, this person was paler then Bdubs.”

“Scar?”

“Scar would have accidentally drowned.”

“True. Uhh, Joel?”

“Maybe.” Scott muttered. At that moment, Joel happened to be passing by on the shoreline, holding some raw beef, assumedly from team T.I.E.S.‘s base.

“Joel. You’re not wet from spying on us, are you?.” Scott called out to him.

Joel reacted in his own crude way. “What? Of course I’m not wet, you idiots. You two aren’t even handsome enough for me to be wet. Or even get in the water for you.”

“Ew.” Scott commented as Joel swagged off into the forest. There was an echoing giggle at that that sounded nothing like anyone they knew.

“Who was that?” Martyn cried, looking all around. “We heard you, fucker. Stop playing coy- just kill us if you’re jonesing for it!”

There was a moment of silence, and then a splash. A man appeared on their island, pulling himself until his arms and chest were resting on the grass. He smiled at them, giggling again.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

Scott grabbed at Martyn, who pointed his sword at the intruder. “Who- what on earth are you, some kind of fish or something?”

“Or something…” the man smiled, and Scott and Martyn could see a few rows of sharp, pointed teeth. “I’m xB. Was just hanging out in these here waters, saw I had some new neighbors. Had to do a prank, it’s just good manners.”

“Do you live here?” Martyn asked, bewildered.

“I live where there’s water, really. And I assume this fun little place is yours?” xB glanced around, and as he did, a glittering tail slapped at the water behind him.

“Oh my god, are you a merman?” Martyn asked in wonder.

“Or something.” xB repeated, a small smile playing on his lips. “You can look at my tail if you want. Come in the water with me.”

“Sweet.” Martyn took off his shoes.

“Wha- Martyn, what are you doing? This could be a trap!” Scott said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Sure, but if it is, I lose an hour. We still got a bit of time left on the bank, my friend. And if worse comes to worse, it’ll be a hell of a story to tell, I suppose.”

Scott considered that. “Fair.” He jumped into the water, Martyn followed, and they both ducked under the waves.

xB was a sight to behold, with the upper body of a guy in a black hoodie, and the lower half of some great fish. His scales were a shimmery dark blue, kind of similar to the sculk that the ancient cities was overrun with. He was clearly strong, as even the simple movement of his tail sent minor shockwaves through the water. Scott and Martyn stayed under the water, staring at this creature, until they both started taking damage.

“Hey Scott- team meeting?” Martyn said as soon as they were both back on the island, pulling Scott to the side. “So, what on earth do we do about this?”

Scott looked over at xB and clicked his tongue. “I mean, he’s cute. Not really my type, but cute.” Scott murmured.

“Same. But like, I dunno, I feel like I could make an exception every once in a while. Something about him. Maybe we could just kinda let him stick around for eye candy.”

“Ew, you fish fucker.” Scott joked, hitting Martyn’s arm.

“You’re one to talk… I’ve heard your stories from times gone past.” Martyn replied, chuckling.

xB just watched them with a gentle smile on his face, his tail waving lazily in the water behind him.

“I’m gonna be honest, I get the feeling he’s not going to just leave if we ask.” Scott said, bringing the conversation back around. “But, to be fair, he could be useful to us, if we play our cards right. Siren call our enemies into the ocean or something. Can he do that?”

“Maybe.” xB said slyly from the water.

“We love a man of mystery.” Scott said dryly.

“Alright, xB, you’re on the team. Welcome to the Mean Gills.” Martyn said.

“The what?”

——

In terms of alliances, it was an odd one. xB was more like a pet then anything, if a pet could make jokes like “Oh, so you have, like, an expiration date. Like food.” when learning about their life timers. He mostly hung out on rocks out a sea, or peered at them at the side of their island base. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, the way he looked at them from time to time, but he was funny and had a sweet giggle that echoed throughout the cove. He’d found out that Martyn and Scott thought he was going to lure them out to sea, which tickled him, and took to joking about it constantly.

“Oh my god. Scott, look at this, he’s definitely doing that on purpose.” Martyn said one mid-morning, looking out at the ocean with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Who?”

“xB. Come look.”

Scott sighed, walking over. “Martyn, I think you’re slut-shaming, he’s not showing off on pur- oh no, that’s definitely on purpose. Good lord.”

xB had draped himself onto a rock out at sea, warming himself in the sun. The deep blues and blacks of his scales shimmered with the water and the sun, and he had taken off his hoodie.

“Boo, you whore!” Scott called to him, cupping his hands over his mouth. xB just waved and giggled, a sound that carried all the way across the sea to reach them.

“I dunno, he does look good though.” Martyn muttered. “Like a damn siren’s call or something, forreal.”

“It’s just because Ren isn’t here, let’s be real.” Scott said loftily. Martyn pushed him into the ocean, and xB swam over to rescue him, which lead to a slew of jokes and laughter.

——

Unfortunately, the light days of jokes and warm ocean air were only sweet for so long. As timers ticked down, everyone became more desperate. Death was more devastating, and, after a while, permanent. Scott and Martyn didn’t escape this terror and bloodlust, of course, but they did find that their island was a bit of a safe haven- it seemed like they were forgotten about a lot of the time, and that was perfectly fine to the Mean Gills. xB helped as he could, bringing them fish to eat and humming his little songs to welcome them home. He also took to circling the island, watching for outsiders for them while they slept. Neither Scott nor Martyn spoke of it, but they both felt like they had a secret weapon in xB. They were protected, or as protected as anyone can be in such situations.

“One hour left for me, I’m afraid.” Martyn said quietly, on the day they knew would be the last. The Mean Gills’ final stand, they’d decided, would be here, on the island, with xB at their side. They didn’t know who was left, but had heard several explosions throughout the day.

Scott sighed, standing up and brushing off his pants. “I can’t just sit here and stare at you until you die. I’m going to go see if there’s anything left to loot. Maybe I can steal a kill or two and get you some more time somehow. Be safe, Martyn. I’ll be back before the hour is up. I promise.” Scott hugged Martyn tight. “xB, watch over him.”

“Of course.” xB replied softly, playing with the shoelace of Martyn’s shoe. He and Martyn watched Scott boat out to the shore, and vanish into the trees.

Martyn let out a long breath. “I can’t believe this is it. Like, less than an hour left. And all I can do is watch. It’s almost- it’s stupid, really. We are all controlled by these stupid numbers, and our options are to fight or just sit around and wait for death. How awful. I wonder if they’re satisfied- well, never mind about all that.”

“You know…” xB began. “There could be another way.”

“What?” Martyn looked down at xB, confused.

“You could die on your own terms.” xB said, maddeningly vague.

“How?” Martyn was wracking his brain, trying to imagine a world where he could tell the watchers to fuck off by defying them. That was more Scott’s area then his. xB said nothing, but dove into the sea. “Wha- oh my god, so now you play hard to get?” Martyn muttered, and dove in after him.

xB wasn’t far, just floating in place under the water, smiling at Martyn. Martyn would never admit it out loud, but the merman was really quite pretty, in his own way.

“It’s a noble thing, you know, to die to the sea.” xB said softly, taking Martyn’s head in his hands, rubbing one thumb gently across his cheek.

Martyn stared into those bright blue eyes, and suddenly, he understood. “I suppose it is.” Martyn replied, filling his lungs with water as he spoke. And he slowly drowned himself, one tick of damage at at time, until his body was still, only held up by xB’s hands.

Scott saw the message in chat and he choked out a moan of sorrow. He hasn’t even been there, too busy scavenging abandoned chests for any supplies for their final stand. Well, Scott supposed, only his final stand now.

He looked down at the timer on his arm. One hour left. He’d always been just one hour ahead of Martyn, a little bit luckier. He bit back some tears, urging himself to just keep moving, back to the base.

As soon as he emerged from the tree line that opened up into the island base, a gasp died in his throat. A body was floating face-up in the ocean. Martyn, clearly dead. His chest was gone, mangled so badly that Scott retched. His blood was slowly dyeing the ocean a cloudy red.

Scott put down a boat and rowed back to his island, the Coral Kids base, some kind of sick curiosity overtaking him. And then a head popped up beside Martyn’s, still chewing.

“Oh my god.” Scott jumped out of his boat just in time, as a huge tail cleaved it in half.

“I prefer xB.” Those clever blue eyes watched Scott’s every movement, and even though he didn’t dare get close to the edge of the land, he could see that xB’s beard and hair were littered with gore.

“You’re not some pretty mermaid, are you?” Scott said quietly.

“No.” xB chuckled. Another death message appeared in chat. Scott ignored it.

“You’re a shark.”

“I’m whatever you want to call me. Doesn’t matter. You haven’t got much longer. What, like an hour now?”

“No.” Scott lied.

“You could die on your own terms, you know. Isn’t that what you’re all about, Scott?The ocean saved you this whole time, and it can save you again. You don’t have to watch your death come.”

“Oh, what, so Martyn took control of his own destiny, huh?” Scott asked.

“Martyn died in my arms and the ocean’s embrace. Bit romantic, really. And isn’t that just what you want, Scott? A bit of fucked up romance?” xB giggled.

“I’m not- shut the fuck up. I’m not going to obey your siren’s call.” Scott pointed his bow at xB in rage.

xB shrugged. “Okay. I’ll just be here when you can’t stand it anymore.” And he began to swim, slowly circling the Mean Gills island, eyes locked on Scott. He wasn’t a protector at all, but a buzzard circling the beginnings of a carcass.

Thunder clap after thunder clap, Scott watched his friends’ death messages in chat. Martyn’s body floated listlessly in the water. And Scott cursed this world, cursed its rules, and cursed xBcrafted, because he was right. All Scott did was defy the rules the world tried to set for him. He didn’t have to die to a sword to the throat or a timer ticking down to zero. He and xB knew that.

“Damn you, xB.” Scott whispered, finally, and the words felt like some kind of terrible relief.

And so, with the remains of his life ticking down to the end, an end that he sought to control, Scott jumped, down into the water stained red, into the cool arms of a brutal, yet defiant, death.

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Iris

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Iris spends time with Reyansh, a rare reprieve.

Warnings and Content: General rooms on fire themes but also talks of body scars, past physical abuse, death of a parent in childbirth, daddy issues.

******************** And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am~ Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

The girl had gone to bed early, Reyansh escorting her to her room. He was supposed to stay there for a few hours until the next guard came, but Iris was not surprised when he snuck back down to the kitchen to her.

“Why are you still up? C’mon, let me walk you to your room.”

“No.” She shook her head, arms deep in sudsy water. “Too much to do.”

“Come oooon” Rey sauntered over to her, wrapping his arm around Iris’s waist and burying his face in her neck. “You need to rest.”

Iris was not pleased with his dismissal, shoving him off her and and turning around. “I don’t need to relax, Rey. I need to do dishes, plan this week's meals, wash the hall floors while everyone is asleep, beat the rugs, and it’s already 10! I have to be up at 5 to get the chicken eggs and get to the stores to get the first pick of the good shit because if Santiago doesn’t get his goddamn hushpuppies he’s gonna go ballistic!” She wasn’t sure when she started yelling, but when she saw his face, patiently waiting for her to get it all out, Iris felt bad. She mutters a sorry and goes back to her dishes. 

Rey takes his place by her side. He doesn’t say it’s okay because he knows she hates that, because it’s not okay. He simply gives her a smile when she looks at him and starts drying and putting things away. She doesn’t like to talk after an outburst, she feels embarrassed and angry… Rey offers her a peaceful comfort in his presence.

“You don’t have to help. You should go to bed, you’ve had a busy day.” She knew it was useless but she had to try anyway. Reyansh had a lot of work too, he was in charge of the girl now but still the stables and much of the landscaping. Still he found time so come to the kitchen or sneak into her room. Most of his freetime was spent helping Iris with her never ending list of chores. 

She didn’t like keeping secrets from him, but it seemed Reyansh understood she was a guarded person. They didn’t even have sex, although there were… extras. Iris had no problem using her hands or mouth on him, but Iris didn’t want to get naked around him yet and she certain didn’t want him touching her until she was sure she wouldn’t…. Well…

It was for his own good.

Rey for his part didn’t feel right leaving her wanting, so they found he could get her off rubbing her over her underwear or Iris riding his thigh. It worked for them. The sex was for… reasons, but the fact she refused to undress at all was another all together. Iris wasn’t in the house by choice, she wasn’t in this goddamn cult by choice.

Iris was born into chaos. An early child of Delta when the people following Divine Mother settled into an abandoned town, her mother died giving birth to her, and soon she found that her father’s fault among other things. Jonah, notoriously, couldn’t keep it in pants. Her mom, Beatriz, Delilah, the delivery lady… hell, she had suspected he had fucked the girls father before he died and even Santiago’s cousin who had come by. That’s why she didn’t like him spending time with the girl… but she didn’t like the girl spending time with Rey, either.

Santiago was a jealous god.

Will had been scorned once by cheating.

Ben delighted in violence.

And Francisco… Well, it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?

Well, not always the quiet ones. She had enough scars on her body from the not-so-quiet of the two making sure she knew her place in the house and what happens if things didn’t get done.

If Reyansh knew what had been done to her years ago, before he was moved up… He might fly off the fucking handle. He’s almost certainly tell Jonah, and that’d open up a whole world of problems. Despite being the source of her problems, he had this stupid fucking savior complex and would put on a stupid fucking masculinity pissing contest with Ben and Santiago and just get himself killed and make her life worse.

Rey tried to get her to leave, but he had no plan. She wasn’t just going to wonder into the woods, not with the absolute hell outside. Only Jonah had any sort of understanding of the landscape, and that was minimal at best. Iris refused to take a risk that might involve Rey getting harmed just to leave. It was decent here for him. He worked long hours, but he was fed, clothed, sheltered and always had that smile on his face. He liked guarding the girl too, she was warming up to trusting him and sometimes she heard them laughing. She was a nice girl, it wasn’t personal… but one wrong move and Rey could be killed or worse.

Rey said something she couldn’t understand. “Hm?” Iris snapped out of her thoughts, turning to him.

“I said, I saw Jonah in the hall, got the shit beat out of him.”

Iris narrowed her eyes at that. That was certainly strange. She hated that it still tugged on her heart. ”He tell you what happened?”

He shook his head, not stopping his side of the work. “Not a thing, but I saw Ben and Frank walking the opposite way not too long before.”

“It was probably Be, then” She scoffed. “Makes sense. Santiago projects too much of his daddy issues on Jonah to do anything.”

Reyansh laughed at that, tucking his chin to his chest, making a double chin pop up. Cutie pie.

The dishes were done, and Rey handed Iris a towel to dry her hands before pulling her into his arms. 

“Tell me, jannu.” He kissed the side of her face, lips brushing against the headband she used to pull her hair back and out of her face while she worked. “Can my busy, amazing woman find some time in her day to dance with me?”

Iris allowed herself to settle into him. The next round of chores could wait a little bit… What she had with Rey was more important. He made her feel safe, kept her sane, made her laugh. These pockets of time were more important than anything else. He made time for her, she would make time for him. Iris looked up to kiss him, allowing it to deepen as her heart surged for her love. Kissing was allowed. Oh god, did she love him.

 Wrapping her arms around his middle, Iris rested her head on his chest.

“I always have time to dance with you, baby…”

***************

if you ever get the chance to see the goo goo dolls live, do it. I've been em twice and when they play Iris, at the line "you bleed just to know you're alive" they cut the music and the singing and its just the crowd shouting the lyrics and I feel like I touched god both times.

Amazing.

Anyway this chapter was a bit hard to write. Months ago, a dear friend and I conceptualized this series, she was a huge help and this series was close to a co project. she offered to help as much as I needed because she was soooo excited. she helped so much with Iris and Rey, she named them, chose their face claims, helped figure out personalities... Rey was her favorite. Unfortunately, not everything is meant to last. Bb girl, if for some reason you are still reading this story, know I love you so much.

To everyone else, I hope you love Reyansh as much as I do. I hope you love their romance as much as I do. Both of these two deserve the world.

If you didn't see, I have a Jonah character ai now and lemme tell you, he's a flirt. A straight up whore.

ANYWAY the Santiago's weird cousin reference was about this crack fic I wrote for fen

Thank you for all your support! ROF is looking like 15 chapters or more rn so I hope y'all in it for the long haul. Hugs and kisses.

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

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Please remember to leave a small comment so I know you're still here! If it seems you've disappeared to love I may shorten the tag list bc its long!!

[hopelessly-malicious]

Unexpected Presence

Cw/minor injury, implied abuse

Just a heads up I have not edited this at all so it might be shit and I also originally had my characters in this but had to change it for this post and it’s 3am and I’m tired so I might have missed something

Hero slipped through the newly unlocked door as quickly and quietly as they could, silently cursing as the footsteps grew louder.

Inside they found a dingy room, so dark they couldn’t see the opposite wall. Their hand blindly traced the wall in search of a light switch but was unsuccessful in their endeavour. Groaning, they crouched down against the door, listening for the footsteps to once again fade.

Eventually the only sound that interrupted the silence was Hero’s steady breathing. They let out a sigh of relief. And the breathing continued across the room. Shit. Hero rose from their spot on the ground as quietly as possible, hands raised preemptively.

They took a step forward, then another. Surely whoever was there had heard them entering, right? Why had they not said anything? Or attacked them? Their eyes had began to adjust to the dark and they could just make out a shirtless figure sitting slumped against the wall a few feet ahead of them, their wrists chained above their head.

Fuck. They aren’t moving. Are they dead? Hero began to panic. Of course they’d chosen the one room with a corpse in it to get themself trapped in. That was just their luck.

“Pull yourself together, Hero!” They whispered to themself. They had heard breathing, so whatever they were dealing with, was probably not a dead body. Regardless, they stepped forward and kneeled in-front of the figure to investigate further. It appeared to be a person about their age, though they couldn’t see their face through the thick, dark hair.

“Hey,” Hero said softly. “Are you alright?”

No response. They tapped the persons shoulder awkwardly. The person groaned, lifting their head slowly as they glanced around the room, before landing on Hero, who just sat in stunned silence. Hero recognised Villain instantly. It was practically impossible not to with the scar over their jaw and piercing grey eyes, but they had to admit they looked different. Their usual neat, half tied back hair was tousled and loose, almost long enough to cover their entire face when it wasn’t pushed to the sides. The circles under their eyes had deepened so much they looked undead, and they looked as if they hadn’t eaten in days. It wasn’t just appearances though. Their usual calm, sarcastic demeanour seemed to have slipped away. Now, they reminded Hero of a cornered animal as opposed to a threatening presence.

“Get the fuck back right now.” Villain uttered in a small, croaky voice.

Hero put their hands up and shuffled back a few inches. They were not sure how to react to this. This was someone they were supposed to be fighting, that’s why they’d snuck into the base in the first place. They’d expected a battle, not… this.

“This is some sort of trick isn’t it? Your friends are probably waiting outside that door right now getting ready to jump me or something.”

Villain let out a bitter laugh that was cut off as their breath hitched and they winced. “Sure. I’ve just sat down here for a week without food, beating the shit out of myself to catch you out. This is all an elaborate ruse to trap you when you least expect it.”

Hero sighed. They were being stupid, this clearly wasn’t a trick, but somehow that made them even more confused.

“What happened to you?”

Villain glared at them. “Why would I talk to you about that? I still don’t know why you're here. What do you want with me?”

Thinking carefully about how much information to reveal without endangering their team, Hero gave a vague response. “I wasn’t looking for you, I was just looking for intel on what we- I, am working against. I almost got caught though so I just jumped trough the first door I saw.” They had another look around the room. There was no furniture, and both the walls and floor were covered in dirt and dried blood, and there were various sharp things hanging from the wall furthest from them, mainly knifes, but a few things they didn’t recognise, such as a rod with electric wire and a large battery pack attached. Hero glanced back at Villain, noticing the hastily bandaged wounds all over their torso, and the dark, purple bruises up their arms and ribs.

They felt sick to their stomach. This was inhumane.

“I can’t just leave you here.” They stood back up and walked over to the wall, grabbing what looked like a small version of a hacksaw.

Villain let out a small gasp, eyes wide. Hero internally cursed at themself, obviously brandishing a weapon at a traumatised person wasn’t a good idea. They held up their hands again. “Sorry. I’m gonna use this to cut through the cuffs on your wrists, is that ok?” Villain, unblinking, slowly nodded yes to the question.

Hero moved to stand next to Villain, examining the leather straps around their wrists as they tried to angle the saw correctly. Villain kept their eyes glued to the saw, gaze unwavering. The first cuff finally gave in and they slowly lowered their arm, allowing themself a quick glance at the dried blood all over their forearms. Hero made quick work of the other cuff, before slowly walking back to the hooks to replace the saw where they’d found it.

“Ok, we should probably get going now before someone comes down here.” They offered Villain a hand.

“I don’t need your help.” Villain muttered. They stood up quickly, apparently too quickly as their eyes rolled back and they collapsed against the wall, clutching their ribs.

“Not a word.” They grimaced.

“Are you going to accept my help now, idiot?”

[lunavadash-creates]

Next idea reffering to the latest message. The reader gives them their necklace as a lucky charm and some kind of promise to come back to them right before they go on a mission/battle?

You know my favorite characters, but feel free to write for characters you like to write about.

🔪

After weeks/months/years of silence, I am back.

Thank you Knifey for believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself! I hope you will enjoy it!

Altaїr

„Why are you giving me this?” he was so surprised when you suddenly gave him a turquoise

The stone was in the shade of summer sky, covered with a thin web of darker veins, it was held in place by a black, leather strap

“It should give you protection, especially that I won’t be there with you”

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the one to believe in the magical power of colourful stones, he was just happy to have a gift from you

He immediately put it around his neck, secretly happy that he will be able to have a piece of you wherever he goes

“Thank you” he would say while hugging you and leaving a gentle kiss on your temple

“Promise me you will be careful and that you will come back to me”

“I shall”

After that, he thought about what to give you in return

During his missions, he was learning about different stones and when he found out that turquoise was really supposed to give peace and protection, he felt like his heart skipped a beat

It took a long time but finally, he managed to find the perfect stone – one that you then wore to the end of the time

Shay

The Morrigan was docked in the port for a week now and you were bored

As not-yet-the-official-templar you weren’t allowed to attend the meetings and all the weird shenanigans Shay had to take part in

It’s not like you cared a lot about politics but it was boring all alone

Like sure shopping and eating nice food was great after weeks at the sea but you missed your love

That day you were on the shore, enjoying the sun and the warm weather, baling barefoot on the wet sand, allowing the ocean to wash around your feet

At one point you found a clam

It had a pearl inside

And only by a total accident you also knew that Shay will have a birthday soon

It took a bit to find the right blacksmith but he agreed, after getting some additional coins, to put priority on your order

You made a sketch of what you wanted – a silver four-leaf clover with this small pearl inside

“It’s for good luck,” you said while giving him the present

The grin on his face widened  

“I make my own luck”

And then he spent half of the night thanking you for a beautiful gift

Arno

He doesn’t really like getting gifts

Unless a gift is a cup of coffee

Honestly giving him a gift is such a pain as he has almost everything he wants

Like seriously he grew up rich and as a Café Theatre owner he doesn’t really complain about the lack of money to spend

One day he comes back home and tells you he has a mission in Germany so he will be away for a few weeks

He also asked you to take care of the Café in his absence as he trusts you the most

It broke your heart that he will be away for so long so you desperately thought about something to make him remember his home and you

At one point you found a weird man from a land far far away who was selling some goods

Among them, there was a little Rhodochrosite. A pink crystal in a shape of an obelisk hanging on a silver threat

This man piqued your curiosity so you listen to the story of the spiritual meaning of the stone

You came back home with this necklace just to find Arno packing his clothes

You hugged him from behind, not really wanting to let him go so far away without you

“I have something for you”

“I hope it’s a cup of coffee”

“I don’t want you to go. But also, I cannot stop you so… please, have it with you. It’s a Rhodochrosite and it means compassion and love. They say it clears away emotional wounds and scars from the past. With it… you will come back to me eventually, right?”

There was a moment of silence and you thought Arno wasn’t really happy

It was until he hugged you so tightly, he almost took your breath away

“It is so much better than coffee. I swear I will come back to your Cherie”

He kept his promise

Edward

The crew was preparing your ship to set sails

Right next to your there was Jackdaw, also getting ready to head toward the endless blue

While sitting on the railing you watched the blond man, your friend and lover, ready to leave for a mission that will take him god-knows-where

You were holding a coin in your hand frantically flipping it through your fingers

“Hey, Kenway!” you shouted, to catch his attention. Despite the sound of waves crashing against the shore, he heard you and immediately turned around, just in time to catch the object that flew his way

It was a golden coin with jackdaw on it and a little hole at the top, through which run a leather strap

He raised his head only to see you holding the twin coin, already on your neck

“This is a promise, Kenway. Better come back and find me after the job is done” you threaten, but actually, you were afraid that the endless ocean will be too much of a gap between you and the bond you shared would be severed

Edward put the necklace with a coin on and then sent you one of his smirks

“I will find you even at the edge of the world, Lass! And you better have the second coin prepared for me!”

[limon-rat]

"I did come back, but no one was there. "It wasn't until I heard about you saving the world from the rock apocalypse that I realized you were even still alive."

I thought about this too hard and now y'all get a one shot <3 (cw: mild panic, implied death one of which didn't actually happen but he doesn't need to know that yet)

~~~~~~~~

He just wanted to find them.

He wasn’t even sure what started it. Maybe he was tired of avoiding it? Maybe he just got curious. He wasn’t entirely sure.

But one day, just a few years after John Dory had finally gotten into a rhythm, he decided to go back for his brothers. He wasn’t sure where the others had gone off to, but he knew Branch should still be home. He could put some faith in Floyd and hope he was there too but if anyone would be home, it’d be Branch.

At least he hoped so…

The dread began when he got outside of town.

He had to sneak into Bergen Town using long-abandoned tunnels. They lead out the south end of town, the same tunnels he’d used when he’d left. Ironic, that he was using them now to go back. But something was wrong. He couldn’t really tell, but the tunnel seemed… disturbed. Or maybe used? The dust wasn’t as thick as it should be after three years, but there weren’t any footprints. It was just enough to put him off.

But he’d made up his mind and he didn’t really feel like walking back yet. So into the tunnel he went.

Only when he got out of the tunnel did he realize something was really wrong.

The Tree was dark.

Usually, the Troll Tree was glowing with light from the pods, casting a soft, multi-color glow on the surrounding town buildings. But it was completely dark now, not a single pod lit.

He didn’t know why he didn’t turn back right then and there. Everything was wrong, nothing was how he remembered. Far too dark, far too quiet. It didn’t even look like his old home, just some dying tree.

And yet, instead of turning tail, he began his search, careful to be quiet. The Bergens should be asleep but he’s learned it’s better to be safe than sorry. He walked slowly, careful to take in every detail he could in the dark. Torn and uprooted sprouts, massive holes in the ground, scars that hadn’t healed, deep gouges in the tree… Violence. A lot of violence.

The tree stayed eerily quiet, and the more he looked, the more he felt unnerved. It was quiet but also dull. The colors from the plants and leaves seemed drained. As if the trolls just existing there had brought color to the foliage.

…They probably had actually.

But now that he’d acknowledged it, that everything was quiet and dull and everything the trolls weren’t, that dread started to change into something more venomous.

He hated it.

If the plants were dead and the pods weren’t lit that meant the trolls were gone  which meant-

No, they’re here. They have to be.

His pace picked up as he neared the Tree’s trunk, quickly whipping his hair to get him up high. As he moved, his body went into auto pilot, adjusting to paths and branches that he didn’t even recognize now like second nature. By the time he was getting to the western edge of the canopy, he was in a dead sprint.

Please be here.

Finally, he found his old home. His grandma Rosiepuff’s pod. It was still how he’d left it, save for the newly grown vines creeping up the sides. It looked… abandoned.

They’re here. He reassured himself again, even the voice in his head filled with doubt.

The door opened the moment he approached, unfurling just as it had done before, as if it were still filled with life. He stepped inside and he already knew everything was wrong.

“Branch?” He called quietly. Something cracked under his foot and whipping his head to look down, he found a picture frame. Why was it on the ground? It was supposed to be hung by the record player. This one was a picture of him and his brothers. Branch had just joined the band, right before the tour. They were all in their stupid puffy jackets and Branch was drowning in his, a massive grin on his face.

It made John’s heart hurt.

Looking back up, he tried again, “Branch? Grandma? Where are you guys?”

No answer. The pod remained completely silent. It was never quiet.

"Branch!? Grandma!?" John tried again, tail thrashing behind him, feeling a disgusting thing begin to coil around his chest. Where were they? They can't be- they aren't gone, are they? No no, they couldn't be. They're fine, they're just... they…

Where did they go?

Where is his baby brother?

"Branch!" John tried once more, trying the bedrooms now. They had to be here. Grandma couldn't leave not without Branch-

What if she's gone?

No, no she's not gone. She wouldn't. She'd made it this far, she wouldn't just-

Since when did she get a say in this?

Reaching the bedrooms, John was panting hard enough his throat burned and he was sure his ribs were trying to suffocate him but he had to find them-

The beds were made. The room was in the same shape as the outside -covered in dust and strangled by vines- but the beds were made. All of them but Branch’s, but even then it looked… wrong. Not like Branch had slept in it, like it’d been made and someone had just been laying on it, ruffling the blankets slightly. It wasn’t used, just touched.

But Branch wasn’t here.

And the same went for the kitchen. Dusty, littered with dry leaves and massive vines. There were even utensils out and Grandma didn’t just leave stuff out. Especially not on the stove, or even the table for fucks sake.

Outback was the same story. The door unfurled to let him out, resting gently against the branch. It looked just as decrepit as the rest of the tree, the laundry still on the laundry still on the line -she would never leave laundry still on the line- swaying in dry wind.

He searched the entire pod top to bottom and he never found them. They were gone. Gone. Along with everyone else. The entire tree was empty and it was torn apart and something bad happened.

What if-

What if the Bergens got tired of only one day a year.

What if they ate everyone-

He had to leave.

But everything was still here. He couldn’t leave it all here just to waste away…

He had space in his bag, right?

He could at least bring the last of his baby brother with him.

[owtenen]

life series etho is such…. an enigma to me…..

TLDR; ethos strategies in the life series are like a clock, eventually he’s bound to repeat himself. he deserves to be put in a test tube and studied under a microscope

in third life, Etho didn’t really have any true allies. Like sure, he was part of the Dogwarts alliance, and maybe he teamed with Impulse for a bit, but the wool fort was his. he built that and just let Impulse hang around. He wasn’t committed to anyone fully the entire time, and when he died, he died burning at the hands of his supposed ally who was too focused on winning to actually hold up his end of the bargain. (i could on and on about impulse and his poor decisions in third life, but this isn’t about him)

i like to think that because of this, he learned to do better in last life. making strong alliances with those he felt like he could trust, and giving all he had into his relationship (whether you interpreted it as /p or /r) with bdubs. he had team BEST, and he never ever betrayed them for anything, even when bdubs did. he survived because he was carful and he had his friends. he was safe in his fort and he did what he had to do to survive. his other alliances were fleeting, even fake in the case of scar, but he never stopped fighting for BEST, at least until he realized he had to let them go to have a chance at winning.

perhaps he learned from impulse in third life. maybe he realized that alliances really only existed until you had a better chance of winning with someone else. he was still green when the rest of BEST was red or eliminated, and he realized fast that the best way to win would be to stick with the rest of the yellows. he betrayed his true ally’s to win, and in the end it didn’t matter. he allowed Bdubs to die because of his false promises, and he couldn’t even secure the victory.

double life is when everything changed. etho was soul bound to Joel, the man that killed him in Last Life. they hadn’t ever really interacted all that much, but they knew each other by reputation alone. despite considering leaving Joel for Impulse and Bdubs, once he learned that Joel had made them a boat, he was committed to their relationship (again, either /p or /r) until the very end. he burned the entire server down for joel, and he followed him everywhere and protected him at all costs. he betrayed his ally’s in last life and it cost him not only the victory, but also his humanity (!!!!), and i wonder if he promised himself he wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen with Joel.

If the ship burns, everything burns. that’s what joel said when the red wars were raging and the server was crumbling down. etho was prepared to burn again, but this time, he would burn with his ally. it was just too bad that that blinding courage was their downfall.

now we’re on limited life, and you see him doing similar things to what he did in third life. he has ally’s similar to third life, meaning he’s not fully committed to any of them. while officially he is part of team TIES, his (cough… here we go) family commitments to the Clockers are making that quite difficult. he’s playing multiple sides again, but like in third life, he’ll eventually have to pick a side and watch as his ally’s fight for the very last second.